The garden stretched out before Cassius, Lucius, and the senior maid, a breathtaking sight of vibrant blooms and meticulously sculpted hedges, the air thick with the sweet scent of roses and the hum of bees drifting lazily in the golden sunlight.
Roses climbed the vines in cascades of red and green, their petals catching the breeze, while neatly trimmed paths wound through beds of lavender and marigolds, the colors so vivid they seemed to pulse under the clear sky.
Yet, for all its beauty, the garden's splendor faded the moment their eyes feil on the girl seated at a simple wooden table beneath a shaded tree.
No flower, no pretty sky or artistry of landscaping could compete with her presence—she was a beacon, drawing every gaze with an effortless, radiant allure.
