A Walk Among Blossoms

Ania burst out laughing so hard she nearly fell from her chair. Sasha tried to hide her smile and failed. Even Victor let out a quiet, amused breath.

For the first time in a long while, laughter filled the courtyard again—unforced, genuine, alive.

And as the maids bowed and began to carry away the dishes, Victor stayed a moment longer, his gaze lost in the sunlight reflecting off the fountain. The rippling gold shimmered across the stone, catching in his eyes like a quiet reflection of everything he'd thought he'd lost.

Slowly, the laughter faded. The courtyard returned to its calm rhythm—the soft clink of plates being stacked, the whisper of skirts brushing the stone, the murmur of a breeze shifting through the leaves.

Anna glanced at Victor, her eyes holding that maternal mix of warmth and insight that could see through every mask. "Victor," she said gently, "why don't you take Sasha for a walk? The garden's at its best this time of day."

Victor blinked, his fingers pausing mid-motion on the rim of his glass. "A walk?"

"Yes," Anna said, smiling like she already knew what he'd say next. "You've been sitting too long. And I'm sure Sasha would like to see the roses before the sun dips."

He hesitated, as if weighing words he didn't know how to say. His eyes flickered briefly toward Sasha. She looked up just then, meeting his gaze, and for a second both froze—caught in that quiet pull that always seemed to exist between them, like two threads drawn by the same current.

Ben chuckled softly, breaking the silence. "Your mother's right, son. Go on. The air's good for the mind."

Ania grinned from beside him. "Go, big brother! Don't worry, I'll guard the table."

That earned a low laugh from Ben. "Guard the table or raid the desserts?"

"I can do both!" she shot back, crossing her arms proudly.

Victor's lips curved into a reluctant smile. "You'll eat yourself sick."

"I'll take my chances," she said, giggling.

Anna shook her head fondly before looking back at Victor. "Go," she said softly, her tone carrying that gentle firmness only mothers possess.

He rose finally, smoothing his coat as he turned toward Sasha. "Would you… like to?"

Sasha blinked, caught between surprise and something softer. "I'd love to," she said, her voice quiet but steady.

Victor nodded once, and without another word, he led her away from the table, past the fountain, through the arch that opened toward the other side of the garden.

The sound of their footsteps faded slowly, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the song of distant birds. The path ahead curved gently beneath the canopy of flowering trees, petals falling like soft rain with every breeze.

Behind them, Anna watched until they disappeared from sight, her hands clasped together lightly.

Ben leaned back in his chair, his eyes following the direction they'd gone. "He's changing," he said softly.

Anna smiled. "He's healing."

Ania rested her chin on her hands, still watching the archway. "Big brother and Lady Sasha look good together," she said thoughtfully. "He smiled more today than all last week."

Anna's expression softened. "He needed someone who could make him smile again."

"Someone who understands the weight he carries," Ben added, his voice thoughtful.

Ania turned toward her parents with a teasing grin. "So… does that mean you both approve?"

Anna laughed quietly. "Approval isn't the right word. Let's just say… I have hope."

Ben nodded. "As do I."

Ania beamed. "Then I'll help too!"

Her mother arched an eyebrow. "Help how, exactly?"

"I'll… um…" She paused, realizing she hadn't thought that far. "I'll make sure they get more time together!"

Ben laughed, a deep, amused sound that filled the air. "Just don't go following them into the garden."

"I wasn't going to!" Ania said quickly, face flaring red as both parents chuckled.

---

Meanwhile, beyond the archway, Victor and Sasha walked in silence. The garden stretched wide and green, bordered by walls of climbing vines and ancient stone. The air smelled faintly of lilac and fresh grass. Birds fluttered from branch to branch, their songs threading softly through the warm afternoon light.

Neither of them spoke at first. It wasn't an awkward silence—it was simply peaceful, the kind of quiet that let the heart breathe.

Victor glanced at her once, noticing how her fingers brushed the flowers as they walked, how her eyes seemed to soften with each step. "You like the garden?" he asked finally.

"I love it," she said, smiling faintly. "It feels alive… like it remembers everyone who's walked here."

He nodded slowly. "It does."

She looked up at him. "Really?"

A small, nostalgic smile tugged at his lips. "When I was younger, I used to talk to the trees. I thought they listened."

Sasha chuckled quietly. "And do they?"

Victor tilted his head, pretending to think. "They haven't argued with me yet."

That made her laugh—a soft, genuine sound that carried easily through the air. "Then maybe they just like your voice."

"Or maybe," he said, glancing her way, "they prefer yours."

Her breath caught slightly, but she covered it with a small smile. "Flattery doesn't suit you, Victor."

"It wasn't flattery," he said simply. "Just truth."

Sasha looked away, hiding the color rising in her cheeks.

They walked a little farther, following the winding path until it opened into a small clearing where a marble bench stood beneath a willow tree. The fountain's distant sound echoed faintly behind them, replaced now by the soft rustle of falling petals.

Victor paused, gesturing slightly. "Want to sit?"

She nodded, and they sat side by side. The bench was cool to the touch, the air still carrying the warmth of the sun.

For a moment, neither spoke. Then Sasha said quietly, "Your family… they're kind."

"They are," Victor agreed, his tone almost reverent. "They've given me more than I ever expected to have."

Sasha looked at him. "You mean love."

He exhaled, nodding slowly. "Yes. Love. It's… strange, isn't it? To crave something you don't fully understand until you finally have it."

Her eyes softened. "Not strange. Human."

Victor smiled faintly. "Sometimes I forget I still am."

Sasha turned slightly toward him. "You're more human than most people I've met."

He looked at her then, meeting her gaze—deep, steady, sincere. "And what about you?"

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