The midday sun bathed the quiet park in a soft golden hue.
It was the same spot, a street down from the Brenthall estate, where once two children from noble houses were bound in a formal engagement.
A small stone gazebo stood in the center, surrounded by trimmed hedges and a marble fountain that trickled softly into a clear pool.
But today, the air was stiff with quiet tension.
Maya stood by the edge of the fountain, her hands gently clasped in front of her.
Her dark purple hair fell freely down her back, and her purple eyes remained fixed on the approaching carriage.
She had worn a modest white dress for the occasion, not for beauty but formality.
The carriage door opened.
Noah stepped out.
He looked the same, and yet different.
Something about him seemed drained, like a man worn by too many lifetimes.
His footsteps were slow but sure as he walked toward the stone table where a tea set was already prepared.
Several people were already seated.
