Chapter Three — The Garden at Dusk

The day’s duties stretched longer than Elias had expected. By the time he left the solar, his head ached from transcribing endless decrees and summarizing letters laced with veiled threats. He longed for quiet, for fresh air, for anything beyond the ink and wax of politics.

He found himself wandering into the palace gardens. The sun had already begun its descent, painting the sky in washes of gold and violet. Lanterns flickered to life along the pathways, casting pools of soft light among the hedges. Roses climbed trellises, heavy with fragrance, their blooms just beginning to open in the warm evening air.

Elias drew a slow breath, letting the stillness wash over him. For a rare moment, he felt free of watchful eyes.

“Lord Varrow.”

The voice startled him. He turned sharply to see Adrian standing at the garden’s edge, a cloak draped over his shoulders, his expression unreadable in the fading light.

“Your Highness,” Elias said quickly, bowing. “Forgive me, I did not know—”

“The gardens are not mine alone.” Adrian stepped closer, his boots soundless against the gravel. “They are meant to be walked in. To remind us that there is beauty beyond stone walls and endless parchment.”

Elias hesitated, unsure if he was being dismissed or invited. The prince’s gaze held his, steady and searching, until finally Adrian gestured toward the path.

“Walk with me.”

It was not a request.

They moved side by side through the lantern-lit paths. For a while, neither spoke. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves and the soft splash of a fountain nearby. Adrian’s silence was not oppressive, but contemplative, as though he measured each thought before granting it voice.

At last, the prince said, “You read quickly. You understood more than I expected.”

“I try to be thorough,” Elias replied carefully.

“You are more than thorough.” Adrian’s eyes flicked to him, glinting in the lantern light. “You saw the meaning beneath the words. That is rare.”

The praise stirred something warm in Elias’s chest, though he fought to keep his tone even. “I only serve as best I can.”

Adrian stopped before the fountain, its water catching the fading sunlight. He rested his hand against the stone rim, his profile caught in the glow of the lantern.

“Tell me, Lord Varrow,” the prince said quietly. “Do you believe loyalty is always a virtue?”

Elias blinked. “I… would hope so. Without loyalty, what binds men to their oaths? To their king?”

Adrian’s lips curved faintly, though it was not quite a smile. “And yet, loyalty can chain as much as it frees. One may be loyal to tradition, to duty, even when it crushes the heart beneath it.”

The words hung in the air between them, weighted, dangerous. Elias felt them as if they were meant not for some abstract truth but for him alone.

“I think,” Elias said slowly, “that loyalty is noble… but it should never blind a man to his own soul.”

For a moment, silence reigned. Adrian’s gaze lingered on him, intent, unreadable, before shifting back to the fountain.

“You speak boldly,” the prince murmured. “Few would dare.”

“Perhaps I should not,” Elias admitted.

“Perhaps,” Adrian said, and this time there was a flicker of something like amusement in his eyes. “Or perhaps that is why you are here.”

The lanterns sputtered as a breeze stirred the roses. The distance between them felt suddenly fragile, a thread stretched taut, ready to snap—or to bind.

But then footsteps approached: a guard, bowing low. “Your Highness. The council requests your presence.”

Adrian straightened, his princely mask sliding into place with practiced ease. “Very well.” He glanced once more at Elias, something unspoken flickering in his eyes. “Walk me back.”

Elias followed, his heart still pounding, knowing the garden would linger in his memory long after the night swallowed its colors.

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