The clock's gentle chime at three in the afternoon marked the commencement of a lavish affair—the Queen's exquisite tea party in the splendid royal garden. The sun, at its zenith, cast a warm golden glow upon the scene, illuminating the meticulously arranged tables beneath the ancient boughs of oak and cherry blossom trees.

  At the heart of the garden, the Queen's tea table stood her Majesty, magnificent in regal attire, welcomed each guest with a warmth that matched the gentle sunlight.

  And like the first flower of spring, the ladies swarmed the queen like bees, showering her with compliments and gratitude for the invite. It didn’t take long for Duchess Whitmore to capture the queen’s attention.

  “Your Grace, I pray you’ve been well.” Bowing her head, Elara followed suit.

  “Ah, Marie, it is good to see you,” she nodded. The queen and Duchess Whitmore had known each other since their younger years and continue their friendship to this very day.

  “Your dress looks absolutely stunning,” Marie gushed.

  The queen's attire was indeed a sight to behold. Each layer seemed to cascade with elegance, resembling the delicate petals of a blossoming rose. The fabric shimmered, catching the sunlight in a dance of colors. Intricate embroidery adorned the gown, a tapestry that complemented the queen's dignified presence with an aura of timeless beauty.

  “Thank you, Marie.” The queen’s eyes landed on Elara, who had been quietly standing beside her mother seemingly staring at a tray of confections on a table next to them.

  Amusement danced in the queen’s eyes, but before she could comment, she was interrupted by her butler.

  “Your Grace, Prince Sebastian is not in his room.” The butler whispered. Elara overheard the whispers and did not fail to miss the frown from the queen.

  “Then look for him at the library, he is probably there with his nose on a book,” the queen huffed.

  Elara chose to tuned out the conversation. “Mother,” she turned to look at her, “can I go and eat some chocolate cakes?”

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  “Alright, but not too many, Elara.” Marie patted Elara’s head and turned back to her Majesty, engaging a conversation about the current trends of finest jewelries.

  Elara grinned and went ahead to a row of short chocolate cakes. She picked a plate and went to sit on a bench. A little bit isolated from the crowd, the soft murmur of the fountain was her only company.

  She delicately cut a small piece of the chocolate cake, savoring its rich aroma. The moist and crumbly texture, coupled with a blend of bittersweet chocolate and velvety ganache frosting, created a symphony of flavors. A subtle hint of vanilla lingered, offering a sweet and satisfying aftertaste, encouraging her to savor each bite.

  To a realm of pure indulgence, it didn’t last long as she heard her mother calling for her.

  “Elara!...Excuse me, have you seen my daughter?”

  ‘Oh dear.’

  Thinking her mother might have plans for her to meet girls at her age. A desire to escape overcame her shyness, prompting her to explore the garden's hidden corners—A perfect chance for her to get away for a little while.

  Leaving her half eaten cake, she bundled up the ends of her dress and ran to what appears to be a labyrinth of foliage where vibrant flowers intertwined with emerald leaves. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming roses, and the soft rustle of leaves as she navigated the maze.

  Elara giggled at the thought of how devious she is, her laughter echoed through the labyrinth, a carefree spirit lost in the beauty of nature.

  “I can’t believe I ran from my mother!” She said to no one but to the dense canopy above her.

  Breathless, she emerged from the labyrinth's intricate twists and turns, stepping into what felt like a hidden sanctuary.

  The enchanting field sprawled out before Elara, a canvas painted with hues of emerald and gold. The grass, a lush carpet beneath her cream-colored heels, swayed with the soft breeze. Wildflowers of orange, white, and yellow colors adorned the landscape, their petals a vibrant mosaic.

  At the heart of the field stood an ancient oak tree, its gnarled branches reaching towards the heavens like weathered hands. The leaves danced in the breeze. Shafts of golden sunlight filtered through the intricate foliage, casting a warm glow upon the grass beneath the tree.

  The place is inviting enough that Elara almost failed to notice the boy sitting beneath the oak tree.