In the Valley, where the shadows of the trees intertwined with the gold of the sunset, there was a garden - not royal, not blinding with luxury, but breathing. Narrow paths wound between bushes of small roses, their petals, scarlet and soft pink, like drops of wine and feminine youth, clung to the hem of the dress and the Lady passing by. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and something else - warm, spicy, as if summer itself had become tangible here. If you looked closely, you could see on some small and prickly bushes red berries, which were largely fallen, and the little birds that lived in this garden sometimes flew onto the path to grab one of these berries and fly to the nest, where squeaking chicks were waiting for them.

"Today you look as beautiful as always, my Princess. I am glad that you liked my gift."

The Prince's voice was soft, and not in any way impudent, as another man or Lord might have said, but there was confidence in it - not rough, like when he trained with a sword, but loving, as if he were that hero from the girls' fairy tales. They walked slowly, both enjoying the warm sun and the private moment when no one was around and did not ask stupid questions about the upcoming wedding and their marriage; his lilac eyes, so calm and mysterious, looked at her, slightly turning his head, and his hair, like white gold, shimmered in the sun's rays, creating a halo of light around him that seemed almost divine, especially against the pale background of his skin.

He had arrived only two weeks ago in her native castle. He wanted his bride to feel safe with him, to have a relationship of at least trust, and not like the many cases where husbands ignored their wives and they spent their entire lives in unhappy marriages. Every day he brought her a new gift: sapphire earrings, engraved bracelets, ruby rings that matched her eyes and the dress she wore. He had given her quite a lot of jewelry these days, and the bookshelves were already bursting with the number of new books he had brought her from King's Landing, both historical and the kind of romantic ones that girls her age loved to read. Each gift was carefully chosen, each accompanied by words that made her heart beat faster. They spent their days strolling through the gardens, and in the evenings, after dinner, he would tell her a story or two about Old Valyria and Dragons, until it was late and he had to bid her farewell to leave her chambers and go to his own nearby.