I waited until evening. I knew her routine after asking maids here and there—in the evening, she would go to the garden at the backside of the palace to watch the sunset and "meditate," which usually just meant brooding with a sword in her lap.
So, I also went to the garden.
As I entered, the air changed, thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the earthy musk of damp soil. It was a labyrinth of color; vibrant snapdragons, glowing moon-lilies, and ancient, gnarled trees that had likely seen the first tile being placed of the palace. The path was made of white quartz that caught the dying light of the sun, glowing like a trail of fallen stars.
I followed the path through a thicket of weeping willows, their branches draping down like curtains of green silk. Soon, I saw her.
