Dawn broke over Iron Hearth. Golden light began to creep through the crevices of industrial buildings, greeting a city that never truly slept. But this morning was different. The air felt heavier. More sacred.
In the gardens of Iron Hearth Castle, dew still clung to the tips of the leaves. Snow Chrysanthemums were in full bloom in the corners, their white-blue petals contrasting sharply with the green foliage. In the center of the garden, two figures sat side by side on a stone bench.
Rianor and Elara.
Elara smiled, her pale face finally regaining some color. Her crimson hair flowed beautifully, a striking contrast to the Snow Chrysanthemum she held. Her violet eyes gazed at Rianor with immeasurable warmth.
"You know," Rianor broke the silence, his tone lighter and warmer than usual, "I used to think these flowers were just ordinary plants. It turns out... they bloom most beautifully right in the middle of the snow."
