Chapter 39. Garden of Obedience

The gate recognized her the moment she arrived, its ancient ironwork shifting ever so slightly as if to welcome her back. She stepped through the threshold, and without so much as a whisper of contact, the green tendrils that draped across the archway slid apart, making way for her passage.

Inside, the garden was impossibly still—no birdsong drifted across the air, no insects hummed in the undergrowth, and not even the faintest zephyr stirred the leaves. All was hushed, as though the foliage was holding its breath, watching itself with curious patience. The scent was familiar and oddly comforting: the earthy musk of duskroot mingled with the smoky sweetness of candlebark, and beneath it all, a hint of dampness that spoke of rain long ago or something quietly smoldering.

Kai was already there, planted at the heart of the garden where a low stone basin sat like a silent guardian. He didn’t look up when she arrived. Instead, he knelt at the water’s edge, sleeves pushed up,