Tales of Neglected ones

The sun hung low in the sky as the carriage passed beneath the grand gates of the Imperial Capital. Warm light touched the white stone walls and rooftops, giving everything a soft, golden glow.

Inside the carriage, Seraphina leaned toward the window, quietly watching the city unfold. She didn't speak. She didn't need to. Her expression said everything.

The streets were wide and clean, lined with flowering trees and neat rows of buildings with glass-paneled windows. A gentle breeze carried the distant hum of voices, the faint notes of a stringed instrument being played somewhere nearby, and the scent of fresh bread and blooming vines.

Everywhere she looked, there was something to notice—small fountains trickling beside garden walls, children laughing near a bookstall, and decorative lights already beginning to flicker on as the day edged toward evening.

Sylas sat across from her. He wasn't staring or lost in thought—just watching. He noticed the way the roads curved slightly inward, how the trees were planted evenly, how everyone seemed to move without rushing.

"It's a well-kept city," he said quietly.

Seraphina glanced back at him, smiling. "It really is."

Their carriage turned through a peaceful neighborhood tucked just east of the central square. The roads narrowed slightly, and the sounds of the busy main streets faded. Ahead stood their assigned estate—simple but beautiful, with ivy climbing the outer walls, warm lights behind the windows, and a quiet fountain set in the center of the courtyard.

When the carriage stopped, Seraphina stepped out first. She took a few slow steps into the courtyard, her eyes sweeping over everything—the curved stone benches, the neat rows of flowers, the carving above the front door showing a sun rising over a calm lake.

Sylas followed her out, taking in the surroundings. The space was open and airy, with clear pathways and quiet corners. He didn't feel tense. Just curious.

"This feels… peaceful," Seraphina said softly, turning in place once.

Sylas nodded. "It does."

Inside, the caretaker greeted them and gave a brief tour. Their rooms were simple and well-furnished. The estate had a reading room, a common sitting area, and a small dining hall overlooking the garden. Nothing was grand, but everything felt intentional—like it had been prepared thoughtfully, without excess.

Seraphina chose a room with a view of the rooftops and trees. Sylas's room faced the quiet street, shaded by tall oaks.

---

That evening, they were invited to a small welcome dinner hosted by a few of the Duke's advisors and local household members. The setting was relaxed, with only a few guests gathered around a long wooden table.

Plates of fresh bread, roasted vegetables, and light soup were served, along with a gentle fruit wine and honey-glazed root slices. Candles flickered in the lanterns overhead, casting a warm, golden light across the room.

Seraphina listened with interest as the adults spoke about the city's newest exhibitions, the upcoming season's public concerts, and the calm weather that had blessed the region for the past month.

Sylas sat quietly, not withdrawn—just listening. His attention moved from one speaker to the next. He didn't feel out of place. Everything here had a slow, steady rhythm to it.

After a while, one of the advisors turned to Seraphina.

"You should visit the Crystal Square while you're here. It's beautiful in the morning—the way the light hits the fountains and stone tiles. Quite the sight."

"I'd love to see it," she replied with a cheerful nod.

"There's also the Rose Library not far from here," another added. "If you're interested in history or poetry, you'll enjoy the collection."

Sylas made a quiet note of both, though he said nothing aloud.

The dinner ended gently, with warm goodnights and a final offering of sweet tea. No formal words. No heavy speeches. Just a calm evening among people who had long since learned the pace of the Capital.

---

Later that night, the city had softened into quiet light. From the balcony outside their rooms, the buildings looked almost like lanterns themselves—glowing from within.

Seraphina stood there, leaning on the railing. She wasn't thinking deeply, nor was she overwhelmed. She was simply enjoying the stillness.

Sylas joined her a moment later, arms resting casually beside hers on the ledge.

"I like it here," Seraphina said after a while.

Sylas looked at the rooftops ahead, the streets below, the slow-moving glow of a carriage far in the distance. "It's a calm place."

She turned her head slightly. "Do you think we'll get used to this?"

"Maybe," he said, "but it's okay if we don't."

She smiled, then turned her gaze back to the view.

They didn't speak after that.

Not because they had run out of things to say—but because they didn't need words right then.

The city didn't feel like a challenge or a danger. It felt like the beginning of something new. And both of them, in their own quiet ways, were ready for it.