The sky was a clear, serene blue—perfect for the royal picnic arranged in the special garden, the only garden with lively flowers and plant in Elysium.
Sunlight poured through the tall trees, warming the soft grass and coaxing blooms from the flowerbeds.
It was an ideal day, especially for the children who rarely had the chance to enjoy the open air.
Blankets were spread across the garden's open clearing, each one hosting the high-ranking concubines—those currently pregnant with Claude's children or already mothers to his heirs.
Their laughter mixed with the soft giggles of babies nestled in woven baskets or cradled in their arms.
"Honey, this is a flower," Dalia said sweetly, holding out a vivid hyantich blossom to baby Lyra.
The child's little hand reached out with a joyful squeal, grabbing at the petals.
"Smart girl," Dalia cooed proudly, pinching her daughter's cheek as Lyra giggled.
