The sun had already climbed close to its zenith.
Two figures strolled side by side beneath a wisteria arbor just beginning to bloom, bathing a corner of the courtyard in soft violet.
he wisteria cascaded like waterfalls of violet silk, the air beneath them hushed and luminous, as if time had softened its pace.
The quiet delight on her face did not escape Dorian's gaze.
"My father once went to great lengths to find this flower," he said, his voice low and threaded with memory.
"To win my mother's heart."
He paused, then added quietly,
"But he never made it back in time to see its first bloom."
That day, when his mother took his hand and walked with him beneath the newly blossomed wisteria, she said nothing.
But the subtle tremble in her grip told him all he needed to know.
Inside, she had shattered.
Because that spring, the season the wisteria finally bloomed… his father never came home.
And not long after, his mother too left this world behind.
