The Moon Pavilion sat on the far edge of the eastern gardens, its pale arches glowing under the lanterns strung along the covered walkway. Night had fallen fully, and the cicadas sang from the shadows. Liora kept her steps quiet, the hem of her robe brushing over the smooth stone path.
She had waited until her assigned maid had retired to the back quarters, then slipped out, hugging the darker edges of the walls. Every step toward the Pavilion seemed to echo in her chest. The gardens were beautiful even at night, with lilies swaying gently in the breeze and the air carrying the faint perfume of night-blooming jasmine but the beauty only heightened her unease.
Rowan's note was still tucked inside her sleeve. She hadn't seen him in weeks, and yet… if this was a trap, she was walking straight into it.
