The estate gardens of House Virelya were famous across the Border Territories for their beauty.
Roses climbed trellises in careful patterns. Hedges stood trimmed to geometric perfection. Fountains tinkled with water imported from mountain springs, the sound designed to soothe rather than distract.
And in the heart of it all, in a private courtyard walled off from curious eyes, Lady Bianca Virelya sat among her birds.
She wore cream today. Simple muslin that made her look younger than her twenty-two years, innocent almost, with her midnight blue hair falling loose around her shoulders and her green eyes soft as spring grass. The kind of girl who belonged in fairy tales, surrounded by singing creatures and dappled sunlight.
The birds thought so too.
