╳ .⎛  lady-cassiia​​ . ⎠

The Carolingian pleasure gardens made their name for being Germany’s most beautiful stretch of land that was never visited. Now, it was venue to the occasional dinner party, but the vastness of the place, as it winded farther and farther away from the palace, and from the dizzying horde of high-society itself, allowed one too much opportunity for intimacy. Aristocrats thrived, after all, in rooms where no secrets could be kept. And so the gardens stood like a haunt over the palace, unblemished by the foul smoke of political chatter, and also Hubert’s pipe.

It was the mistier mornings that Phillip liked better than anything. When the fog settled deep among the flowers, and when it glided along the silver-roofed water, it had him believing that he belonged in some sort of fairy tale. With his days mostly spent kissing the hands of people he barely liked, he found the greatest comfort there, perfectly alone in the gardens. 

His worn hands were unfamiliar with the earth that he now toiled over. It'd been close to twenty years the last he remembered bending over the rose bushes beside his mother, and though a well-rooted sadness had kept him from visiting the flowers again for a long time, he decided today, very much on a whim, to care for them the way she did.