𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

─ 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝

𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

IN TRUTH, AZALEA NEVER FULLY enjoyed the mornings, they were always rather sad. Mornings marked the end of a day, the end of a wondrous dream, and most importantly they marked the beginning of a new day. Yes in some ways that is a good thing, but, when she has things to do that she does not want to face the beginning of a new day is upsetting. For example, Azalea's current situation. At the moment, Azalea was getting dressed in her white linen dress with puff sleeves and little embroidered patterns all around. She had combed her black hair and tied it up into a half up half down style using a white ribbon. It was her everyday look really, a dress and matching ribbon in her hair.

Azalea had woken up much earlier than everyone else so there were no people walking down the hallway or the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast. No, the only thing awake at this moment was herself and the birds outside. The birds had been singing their songs for hours now, and that is what awoke her from her sleep. From what she could hear, she presumed the birds to be chaffinches or another type of songbird. Nonetheless, Azalea found it to be very calming, listening to the birds.

After she had finished getting ready, Azalea let out a breath and tried to clear herself of her nerves. It was only a small interrogation, she would only ask a few questions and leave it there. But that is only if they are still there, they could have already left the garden house and she'd never have to see them once more.

Which, for some reason, kind of saddened her for a moment and she didn't know why. Yet she let that thought pass to the back of her head and gave herself one last look in the mirror. She looked presentable.

So she walked towards her door and opened it, glancing around to see if there was anyone walking the hallway, which was barren. She closed the door behind her lightly and made her way down the stairs. Once she had made her way to the back of the manor, she slipped on her white heels, which only were barely 2 inches, and walked out into the garden. It was a grey morning, fog layered the earth and the clouds merged together in a cluster of grey. Truly, it felt like some old victorian style drama, but that was always a feeling in the back of Azalea's mind.

Nonetheless, she strode towards the garden house, taking in her surroundings as well. She was under pressure to be at the house at a certain time. Plus the two men wouldn't mind, it was her very own garden as matter of fact and she had decided to show them hospitality. The over looming monotonous mood of the morning somehow gave Azalea a sense of restfulness. Mayhaps that is one of the reasons why mornings such as this fit Azalea so well. To most people, she is not very vicarious or effervescent, but that was only an assumption people made from her appearance. Contradictory, those who knew her knew she was rather spirited and passionate about certain things. Just like the morning, most people think it to be lifeless and dull when in reality there is as much life as any other morning, it just takes a keen mind to realize it.

Just as she was getting deep into her thoughts, Azalea had come upon the garden house, delicate amounts of clouds of smoke were escaping from the small furnace chimney. They were still there, and by the looks of it outside the structure, they were well awake. Azalea felt her nerves course back through her body, and this time she desperately shook them out. Before entering the building, she inhaled and then exhaled, in order to steady out both her nerves and heartbeat. Preceding, Azalea stepped towards the door and knocked once to gain their attention.