Shadows of the Moon - 4. Chapter 4

Shadow of the Moon

Gardens

As they walked down from the third floor, they were met by the butler. Mr. Hawthorne said, “Good morning, Master Thorne. I hope you slept well!” He smiled warmly at the others. “Breakfast will be served in the dining room,” he added before walking away, headed to the kitchen.

The group made their way to the dining room, the rich scent of polished wood and freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Each guest took a seat at the long, gleaming table, the morning sunlight dancing off its surface. James and Thomas, the ever-dedicated footmen, bowed in unison, their expressions a perfect blend of politeness and warmth. “At your service,” they chimed together, their voices carrying a welcoming note. With practiced care, they placed four steaming cups of coffee in front of each guest, accompanied by creamer and sugar nestled in delicate porcelain dishes. Finally, they laid out silverware wrapped in crisp, white napkins, their meticulous attention to detail shining through. James then followed with plates, ensuring each guest felt attended to and at ease.

"When I think about mornings, there's nothing quite like the smell of freshly brewed coffee drifting through the air. It's a small comfort that sets the tone for the day ahead. I always like to take a moment to sit down, breathe, and enjoy that first sip—it feels like a quiet hug before the world gets busy. If you're ever in need of a little pick-me-up, trust me, a good cup of coffee can work wonders."

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the room, mingling with the scent of baked bread and sizzling bacon wafting in from the kitchen. Reginald glanced around at his friends, a sense of contentment washing over him. Despite the challenges they faced, moments like these reminded him of the strength of their bond.

“Shall we begin?” Reginald asked warmly, lifting his cup in a gesture of friendship, his eyes sparkling with an easy charm. The others exchanged knowing smiles and followed his lead, raising their cups in silent agreement. In that shared moment, the troubles of the world beyond the manor’s grand walls seemed to dissolve, leaving only the simple pleasure of good company.

The butler stepped into the room with his usual graceful composure. Bowing slightly, he announced, “The tailor has arrived, sir. After breakfast, he will attend to your measurements in the main living room.” His voice carried the gentle authority of someone who took pride in ensuring every detail was attended to with care.

"I think we should take a stroll through the gardens today and truly soak in their beauty; it would be simply lovely," Reginald suggested, his voice filled with a gentle warmth that matched the morning's tranquility. "And afterward, I'll make sure to let Jim know we'll be needing the horses tomorrow. I’ll also have the kitchen prepare a picnic lunch—it should make for a delightful outing, don’t you think?" He took a sip of his coffee, savoring the moment as a soft smile graced his face, radiating contentment and a quiet anticipation for the simple joys of the day ahead.

The thought of the garden brought a subtle, shared excitement that seemed to linger in the room like the soft hum of an unspoken promise. Beyond the tall windows stretched a haven of lush greenery cascading like nature's lovingly crafted tapestry, a cherished retreat from the world. Sun-dappled pathways played a playful game of hide-and-seek with the shadows, much as they had on countless serene mornings before. The air outside would undoubtedly carry the sweet perfume of blooming flowers, a fragrance that always evoked a sense of nostalgia—memories of carefree wanderings and quiet moments savoring the gentle kiss of a warm breeze.

In the distance, ancient oaks and delicate willows swayed gracefully, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind like old friends sharing confidences. The scene was alive with a joyful riot of colors, as vivid blossoms spilled their beauty across the landscape, painting it with hues so vibrant they seemed to sing in harmony with the morning light. A babbling brook meandered lazily through the terrain, its crystal-clear waters dancing over smooth stones, creating a gentle melody that wrapped the garden in serene rhythm.

Reginald could already hear the symphony waiting for them: the soft, industrious hum of bees flitting through blossoms, and the cheerful trill of birdsong punctuating the tranquil quiet. Along the shaded paths, velvety moss blanketed the stones, lending a whisper of enchantment to the already magical surroundings. Toward the heart of the garden, arched trellises, heavy with roses in full bloom, framed the walkways like nature's own masterpiece, their petals unfurling with an elegance that demanded admiration.

It was a sanctuary brimming with wonder—a place where time seemed to stand still. Reginald could imagine their spirits lifting with every step through this idyllic eden, the worries of the world melting away as they were enveloped by the garden’s quiet embrace.

At that moment, the footmen arrived, carrying with them the promise of a delightful morning feast. The dining room seemed to glow as the soft morning light poured through the tall windows, casting a golden hue over the elegant table setting. A pristine white tablecloth lay perfectly smooth, while a centerpiece of fresh blooms added a gentle burst of color and a subtle, sweet fragrance to the room.

As they savored their coffee, James and Thomas reappeared, their trays laden with an array of breakfast delights. The fluffy scrambled eggs glistened invitingly, accompanied by crispy strips of bacon, golden slices of toast, and freshly baked croissants, their buttery aroma tantalizing. Bowls of vibrant fruits—ruby-red strawberries, plump blueberries, and juicy slices of melon—graced the center of the table, radiating freshness. Nearby, jars of homemade jams and golden honey awaited, ready to be spread lovingly over the warm bread.

James and Thomas stood quietly by the window, their presence unobtrusive yet reassuring, ready to attend to any need with their trademark poise.

Reginald took a deep breath, savoring the mouthwatering aromas that reminded him of childhood breakfasts in his family home—mornings filled with warmth, laughter, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. “This looks wonderful,” he said, his smile reaching his eyes as he looked around at his friends. “Let’s enjoy this meal together.”

As they began to serve themselves, the familiar clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation filled the room, wrapping them in a cocoon of comfort. It was more than just breakfast—it was a moment of connection, a pause in the chaos of their lives that they would quietly cherish.

The dining room, bathed in the gentle glow of candlelight, felt like a sanctuary. Shadows danced gracefully across the walls, while the table—laden with its feast—seemed to invite them to linger. The rich aromas of the dishes mingled with the low hum of conversation, creating a symphony of warmth.

Around the table, Omar, Kareem, Richard, and Alexander were caught in lively discussion, their shared laughter reminiscent of bonds that grew stronger with every story told. Reginald couldn’t help but smile as he thought about how these moments, no matter how small, were the ones that stayed etched in the heart forever.

At that moment, Omar, seated across from Reginald, carefully scooped a spoonful of the exquisite jelly before him. Its delicate texture quivered slightly as it met the spoon, a silken promise that dissolved effortlessly on his tongue. The first taste was a revelation—a symphony of sweetness and subtle tartness that awakened his senses. As he savored it, delicate hints of cinnamon and cardamom unfurled like a secret whispered from a distant land, leaving behind a complexity and lingering warmth he hadn’t expected. His eyes widened with delight, and a radiant smile broke across his face. “I have never eaten anything as wonderful as this!” he exclaimed with unrestrained joy. “I just loved the jelly; we do not have anything like this in Egypt!” The sincerity in his voice filled the room, and his infectious enthusiasm seemed to brighten every corner.

Kareem, seated across from Omar, leaned forward with a grin, his own excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Absolutely, Omar,” he agreed, his voice brimming with shared delight. “The flavors are so unique and vibrant—it’s like discovering a little piece of art on a plate. Truly, a culinary experience unlike any other.”

Alexander, ever the quiet observer with an eye for life’s finer moments, smiled and nodded in agreement. “It’s not just the food,” he said softly, his words thoughtful and heartfelt. “It’s the company that makes it unforgettable. Moments like these… they’re what life is truly about.”

The friends lingered over the meal, savoring not only the exquisite flavors but also the easy rhythm of conversation that filled the room. Laughter bubbled up frequently, mingling with the gentle clink of glasses and silverware—a melody of camaraderie that wrapped the dining room in a warm glow.

As the morning unfolded, they reminisced about past adventures, their voices carrying a mix of nostalgia and humor. Dreams of future escapades began to take shape between bites of delicious food, every shared story and playful jest tightening the bonds of friendship. The meal became more than sustenance; it was a celebration of their unique connection.

Each of them—Omar’s boundless enthusiasm, Kareem’s vibrant charm, Richard’s sharp wit, Alexander’s quiet wisdom, and Reginald’s unwavering warmth—added their own color to the moment. Together, they turned a simple morning into a memory destined to be cherished, a moment of joy and togetherness that would linger long after the last plate was cleared.

Reginald chuckled at Omar’s delight, his laughter echoing the shared joy around the table. Reaching for the coffee pot, he poured more for everyone, the rich, comforting aroma curling into the air like an unspoken promise of another pleasant moment. The fragrance wove seamlessly into the atmosphere, mingling with the quiet hum of friendship that bound them together.

They lingered, cradling their cups as the warmth of the coffee seeped into their hands, a perfect match to the warmth in their hearts. Words weren’t needed—companionable silence stretched between them, speaking volumes of the bond they shared. It was a silence not of absence but of presence, a peaceful pause to savor the simplicity of togetherness.

By the time the last drops had been sipped, a deep sense of satisfaction had blanketed the group. Contentment settled over them like a well-worn quilt, leaving smiles on their faces and memories quietly taking root in their hearts.

When the cups were emptied and the lingering aroma of coffee softened into the background, Reginald gave a small, deliberate gesture to the footman, who responded with impeccable timing. “Would you kindly fetch Mr. Hawthorne for me?” Reginald asked, his tone polite yet unwavering. The footman nodded and swiftly exited the room.

Moments later, Mr. Hawthorne appeared at the doorway, his presence as composed and assured as ever. He stepped inside with a quiet grace, his expression a picture of calm attentiveness, ready to address whatever matter Reginald required.

Reginald greeted him with a warm and familiar smile, one that spoke of mutual respect. “Ah, Mr. Hawthorne, I just need a minute of your time. How are the house funds? Do you require additional resources?” he asked, his voice carrying an effortless authority underpinned by sincere concern. It was the tone of a man not merely overseeing affairs but taking genuine interest in ensuring the smooth running of his household.

Mr. Hawthorne responded with a small, respectful bow; his hands clasped neatly before him as he began to answer.

Mr. Hawthorne, ever the embodiment of composure and efficiency, replied with his usual poise, “At the moment, sir, there are ample funds to ensure everything continues running smoothly.”

Reginald gave a satisfied nod, his smile broadening with a hint of reassurance. “If the need arises, please do not hesitate to inform me,” he said warmly, his words carrying both authority and genuine care.

Mr. Hawthorne responded with a slight bow; his voice tinged with gratitude. “Of course, sir. Thank you.”

With that, the butler gracefully withdrew, leaving Reginald and his friends to savor the final moments of their leisurely breakfast. The gentle clinking of cups and the soft murmur of voices filled the room as they basked in the morning’s calm. The promise of new adventures lingered on the horizon, yet for now, they embraced the stillness and the unspoken strength of their bond—a moment of quiet harmony that would anchor them for whatever lay ahead.

Reggi, his smile warm and inviting, stood and addressed his friends. “Let me show you all to the main living room. This way,” he said, gesturing gracefully. The group rose and followed him as he led them through the manor, their footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floors.

As they entered the grand foyer, Kareem let out a low whistle, his eyes sweeping over the space. “Reggi, this is incredible. Do you ever get tired of walking through this masterpiece every day?”

Reggi chuckled. “I suppose I’ve grown used to it, but seeing it through your eyes reminds me of its charm. Each portrait on the wall has its own story.” He gestured toward a painting of a stately gentleman. “This, for example, is my great-great-grandfather. The artist used a rare pigment made from lapis lazuli to achieve the vivid blue in the background. It was incredibly costly at the time, which shows just how much care went into preserving his legacy.”

Omar paused to admire the chandelier. “I can’t imagine how long it must take to clean something like that,” he mused, half to himself.

“Thankfully, it’s not my job,” Reggi quipped with a grin, earning a round of laughter from the group. “Now, follow me—we’ve more to see.”

In the library, Alex’s face lit up as he scanned the towering shelves. “Ah, a proper library! I could spend days in here. Do you read much, Reggi?”

“I do, though not as much as I’d like,” Reggi admitted. “This room was my sanctuary growing up. I can’t count how many afternoons I spent curled up by the fire with a good book.” He gestured toward the crackling fireplace. “You’re welcome to lose yourself here anytime.”

As their tour continued, the group marveled at the manor’s splendor. When they arrived at the sunroom, Alexander stopped to admire the lush greenery. “This feels like stepping into another world,” he said softly, trailing his fingers along the leaves of a vibrant fern. “It’s so peaceful.”

“It’s one of my favorite places,” Reggi replied. “Perfect for a quiet moment or a lively chat, depending on the company.”

Finally, they reached the main living room. Reggi gestured toward the space with a touch of pride. “Here we are—the heart of the manor. Make yourselves comfortable. The view from those windows is breathtaking at this time of day.”

Omar walked to the window, his eyes widening as he took in the garden’s vibrant colors. “Reggi, this is incredible. It’s like something out of a dream.”

“Or a painting,” added Alex, settling into one of the plush armchairs. “I’m starting to think you’ve been hiding a secret life as an artist, Reggi.”

Reggi laughed and shook his head. “If only! But there is art in curating spaces like this, wouldn’t you agree?”

The group exchanged smiles, their voices blending into the warm and lively atmosphere. It was a moment not just of admiration, but of shared connection—a memory they would carry with them long after they left the manor.

As Reggi’s guests admired the main living room, their eyes wandered over the intricate woodwork and the breathtaking view of the gardens. Omar stepped closer to the large windows, his expression a mix of wonder and curiosity. “Reggi, this is incredible,” he said, his voice soft. “The gardens look like something from a fairytale.”

Reggi smiled at Omar's awe, his hands resting casually in his pockets. “They’re even better up close,” he said. “We’ll spend some time there today. I think you’ll love it.”

Just then, the sound of footsteps on polished wood announced the arrival of a well-dressed man. He carried himself with confidence, his gaze calm but discerning. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said smoothly, inclining his head. “I’m Mr. Jameson, representing Anderson & Sheppard. Who would like to go first?”

Reginald stepped forward with a faint smile. “That would be me. Let’s get started.” As Mr. Jameson began taking measurements, he worked in silence, the occasional scrape of chalk on fabric breaking the quiet. Alexander, sitting nearby, watched with interest, his arms crossed casually.

“You’re thorough,” Alexander commented, leaning forward slightly.

Mr. Jameson glanced up briefly, the corners of his mouth twitching in approval. “Thoroughness ensures perfection, sir. Every measurement matters.”

When Reginald’s measurements were complete, Mr. Jameson presented him with several swatches of fabric. Reginald picked up a dark wool sample, holding it up to the light. “This one,” he said decisively. “For the classic suit. I’ll also take the grey and blue, and of course, the tuxedo.”

“You’ve got an eye for quality, Reginald,” Kareem said with a grin. “I think I’ll follow your lead.”

Omar clapped his hands together, a wide smile spreading across his face. “I’ve never had a tuxedo before. This is going to be something special.”

Mr. Jameson nodded approvingly as each man made his selections. “Gentlemen, everything will be tailored to perfection and delivered in two weeks,” he assured them, his voice steady and confident.

“Excellent,” Reginald said. “Please see that the bill is delivered to the butler.”

Mr. Jameson inclined his head. “Of course, sir.” With that, he turned and left the room, the quiet click of his shoes fading down the hall.

As the group settled back into the cozy comfort of the living room, Reggi turned to his friends, his tone filled with quiet excitement. “Here’s the plan for the next few days. Today, we’ll start with the gardens and have lunch there. Later, we’ll visit the stables and let Jim know we’ll need horses for tomorrow. We’ll have a picnic outing, and I’ll write to my mother to let her know we’re visiting her in two days.”

Kareem leaned back in his chair, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve really thought this through, Reggi. Sounds like a perfect few days.”

Reggi turned to the footmen with an easy gesture. “Could you fetch Mrs. Whitaker for me, please?” he requested, his tone effortlessly courteous.

The room hummed with quiet anticipation for the days ahead, the soft morning light spilling through the windows and wrapping the space in a golden glow that seemed to mirror the warmth shared among its occupants.

It wasn’t long before Mrs. Whitaker arrived, her footsteps light and purposeful. Reginald greeted her with a welcoming smile. “Good morning, Mrs. Whitaker,” he said, his tone filled with genuine warmth.

She curtsied gracefully, her hands clasped neatly in front of her. “Good morning, Master Thorne. How may I be of service to you today?” she asked, her voice as cheerful as the morning itself.

“We’ll need a picnic lunch for tomorrow,” Reginald said with an easy smile. “Something simple, but with your magic touch, of course.”

Mrs. Whitaker’s face lit up at the compliment. “But of course, my lord,” she replied, her own smile softening her already kind features. “Is there anything else you might need?”

“That will be all, Mrs. Whitaker. Thank you,” Reginald said, his tone as sincere as the smile he gave her.

Mrs. Whitaker curtsied once more. “Very well, my lord. I’ll see to it straight away,” she said, before retreating to make the necessary preparations, the air seeming a little warmer for her presence.

Turning back to his friends, Reginald’s expression brightened. “Now then,” he said, his voice carrying a note of excitement. “First, I want to take you to the ballroom. You’ll love it.”

With a sense of purpose and lighthearted solidarity, the group left the dining room, following Reginald as he began to lead them on another journey through the manor’s magnificence.

As they walked through the manor, every room felt like stepping into a different era, each space adorned in a distinct style that celebrated the manor's rich history. The walls carried the weight of time, lined with ancestral portraits and sweeping landscapes, every brushstroke hinting at a story waiting to be told. The intricate woodwork and luxurious fabrics spoke of a legacy of craftsmanship, their grandeur reflected in the awe-filled faces of Reginald’s guests.

“This place is like a living museum,” Kareem remarked, running a hand lightly over the carved frame of a portrait. “Every room feels like it has a soul.”

Reginald smiled at his friend’s observation. “That’s exactly what I love about it. Every detail tells a story, and sometimes, it feels like the walls themselves are whispering memories.”

When they entered the ballroom, a collective gasp escaped the group. The crystal chandeliers, suspended gracefully from the high ceilings, caught the light in a dazzling display, scattering rainbows across the polished wooden floor. The vast expanse of the room was filled with sunlight streaming in through grand windows, illuminating the elegant décor.

“This is magnificent,” Omar said, his voice almost a whisper as he slowly turned in place, taking it all in. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to host an event here.”

Reginald’s smile widened, a hint of pride in his expression. “It’s one of my favorite rooms in the manor. We’ve hosted many memorable evenings here—dances, dinners, even a few impromptu concerts. Every event leaves a mark on this room.”

Alexander stepped closer to one of the chandeliers, peering up at the cascading crystals. “It feels alive somehow—like it’s holding onto the echoes of every note played and every laugh shared.”

Reginald chuckled. “Perhaps it does. And speaking of music, there’s something I’d like to show you.” With a gesture, he led them to the grand piano that stood proudly near the far wall, its sleek surface gleaming in the sunlight.

“Do you play?” Kareem asked, curiosity sparking in his tone as he ran a hand lightly over the piano’s keys.

“I do,” Reginald said with a nod, his hand resting on the instrument’s polished lid. “This piano has been a constant companion over the years. It’s seen its fair share of joy and quiet reflection."

The idea was met with murmurs of excitement, the bond between them growing stronger as they shared this space brimming with history and beauty. Each moment spent exploring the manor deepened their appreciation—not just for the place, but for the experiences they were creating together. With every room, their anticipation for the adventures that awaited grew, the day already weaving its own unique story.

“I want to share something of myself that you do not know,” Reginald said, a hint of mystery in his voice. With that, he took a seat at the grand piano and lifted the cover over the keys. The room fell silent, anticipation hanging in the air.

He began to play the opening notes of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. The hauntingly beautiful melody filled the room, each note resonating with emotion. His fingers moved gracefully over the keys, bringing the music to life with a depth of feeling that captivated his audience.

Alexander, Omar, and Kareem watched in awe, their expressions softening as they were drawn into the music. It was as if Reginald was sharing a piece of his soul with them, revealing a side of himself that they had never seen before.

The music flowed effortlessly, the gentle yet powerful notes creating an atmosphere of introspection and serenity. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of the piano and the emotions it evoked.

As the final notes lingered in the air, Reginald looked up, a shy smile on his face. “I’ve always found solace in music,” he said quietly. “It’s a way for me to express what words cannot.”

His friends were silent for a moment, absorbing the beauty of what they had just experienced. Then, one by one, they began to applaud, their appreciation evident in their eyes.

“That was incredible, Reginald,” Omar said, his voice filled with admiration. “I had no idea you could play like that.”

Reginald shrugged modestly. “It’s just something I’ve always loved to do.”

Kareem nodded. “You have a true gift, my friend. Thank you for sharing it with us.”

Reginald smiled, feeling a warmth in his heart. Sharing this part of himself had brought them even closer, and he knew that their bond was stronger than ever.

“Ok, let’s go to the gardens,” Reginald said, his voice filled with anticipation. As they exited the grand manor, the heavy wooden doors swung open with a soft creak, revealing a path lined with cobblestones that gleamed faintly in the morning light. The air outside was crisp and invigorating, carrying the mingling fragrances of blooming roses, freshly turned earth, and a faint hint of lavender that seemed to linger in the breeze. It was a refreshing contrast to the manor’s faintly musky, ancient interior.

Their footsteps echoed softly against the cobblestones as they made their way forward. Birds flitted between the trees, their melodic songs filling the air with life. A pair of butterflies danced gracefully above a bed of flowers, their wings flashing shades of orange and blue as they caught the light.

As they stepped into the garden, they were immediately drawn into its breathtaking beauty. The meticulously arranged English Garden spread out before them like a living masterpiece. Trimmed hedges formed intricate geometric patterns, their sharp lines softened by the gentle sway of the surrounding greenery. The vibrant hues of flowers—scarlets, yellows, purples, and whites—dotted the landscape like strokes of paint on a canvas, each bloom swaying slightly with the caress of the breeze.

Kareem stopped beside a bed of irises, their petals glistening with tiny dewdrops that sparkled like jewels in the sunlight. “It feels like I’ve stepped into a dream,” he murmured, trailing his fingers just above the flowers as though afraid to disturb them.

“You can even hear it,” Alexander added quietly, tilting his head. His voice was hushed, almost reverent. “The rustling of the leaves, the sound of the fountain ahead, the birdsong... It’s like the garden is alive.”

Reginald smiled, pleased by their reactions. “That’s what I love most about this place,” he said, his voice warm. “Every time I walk here, it feels like the world slows down, just for a moment.”

As they wandered further, the rhythmic bubbling of a fountain grew louder, drawing them toward its source. When they arrived, the sight was mesmerizing—a marble fountain, its crystal-clear water cascading gracefully over smooth tiers. The sunlight refracted through the droplets, casting tiny rainbows that shimmered against the lush greenery. Omar knelt by the edge, brushing his hand over the cool stone. “This,” he said with a grin, “is magic.”

The cobblestone path wound its way past arches of climbing roses, their delicate petals scattering to the ground with every gentle gust of wind. The breeze carried the subtle sweetness of the blossoms, mingling with the earthy scent of the soil beneath their feet. Occasionally, a bee or butterfly would hover near the flowers, busy yet unbothered by the visitors.

“This garden holds memories,” Reginald remarked softly. “It’s seen everything—quiet moments, grand celebrations, even heartache. That’s why it means so much to me. It’s not just a garden; it’s a piece of my life.”

The group nodded, their gazes taking in the beauty that surrounded them. Each moment seemed to resonate with its own quiet magic as they moved forward, their voices mingling with the sounds of nature in perfect harmony.

The group followed the path, their footsteps crunching softly against the cobblestones. As the garden unfolded before them, their eyes widened in awe. Tall, intricately trimmed hedges framed the entrance, and the vibrant blossoms of countless flowers spilled across the landscape like nature’s own artwork. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a soft whisper that seemed to welcome them.

“Now this,” Kareem said, pausing to take in the view, “is what I’d call a proper garden. Do you spend a lot of time out here, Reggi?”

“I do,” Reginald replied, his tone carrying a note of fondness. “Whenever I need to clear my mind or find inspiration, this is where I come. It’s like the whole world slows down.”

As they walked further, Omar pointed toward a cluster of roses climbing an iron trellis. “These are incredible. The color—deep crimson—it’s almost too perfect.”

“They’re my mother’s favorite,” Reginald said with a smile. “She used to say roses like these can hold secrets. When I was younger, I’d imagine they were whispering stories into the wind.”

Alexander leaned closer to the trellis, his fingers brushing lightly against the cool iron. “I can see why this place is special to you. There’s something... timeless about it. Like it’s holding onto pieces of the past.”

Reginald nodded. “That’s exactly how it feels. The garden has been here for generations. It’s witnessed weddings, celebrations, quiet moments—so many memories.”

They rounded a bend and came upon a fountain, its sparkling waters tumbling over smooth marble tiers. The sunlight refracted through the droplets, casting tiny rainbows across the surrounding greenery. Omar knelt by the fountain, letting the spray graze his hands.

“This,” he said with a grin, “is pure magic. I could sit here all day.”

“Many do,” Reginald said. “It’s a favorite spot for anyone who visits. Some claim it’s the most peaceful place in the garden.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “The most peaceful? That’s a bold claim. This whole garden feels like tranquility bottled up.”

Kareem dipped his fingers into the cool water, flicking a few drops toward Omar. “You know, you could just sit here, but I’m sure there’s more to see.”

“Indeed, there is,” Reginald said, laughing softly at their playful exchange. “Come on, there’s an archway ahead that leads to one of my favorite spots.”

As the group followed him, their voices mingled with the rustling leaves and the cheerful songs of birds flitting above. The garden seemed to embrace them, its beauty and serenity weaving a sense of connection among the friends that grew with each step.

By then it was time for lunch, so they headed inside. Lunch was delightful.

Once they were done, they headed out to the stables. Jim met them at the entrance and told him that they would be needing horses and that he would be coming with them on a picnic to grandmother’s favorite place and most likely a swim. Jim agrees that it would be a lovely place for a picnic, and he would be glad to go with them. Reggie let Jim know that they would need a carriage to take them to his parents' manor and that he would be coming with them. We will be staying for a couple of days! It was fun to see Jim looking at Kareem when no one was looking.

That night Reggie wrote to his mother informing her that they would be coming for a visit. He sealed the letter with black sealing wax and his signet ring and with that he took the letter to the butler and asked for it to be sent very soon.