The castle's east wing held a secret that hadn't existed a week ago – an abandoned courtyard transformed by moonlight and determination. Elara stood in her newly claimed space, surrounded by crates of carefully transported plants from her homeland - Solaria. Her practical dark green dress was already smudged with soil, much to Lydia's certain future dismay.
"You're sure these can adapt to night-blooming?" she asked the elderly gardener she'd discovered among the human servants. Morris, his weathered face kind beneath a shock of white hair, nodded as he examined a delicate white flower.
"Evening primrose already blooms at night, Your Majesty. And with the right magical encouragement, others might follow suit. But..." He hesitated, glancing nervously at the shadows. "The court may not approve of such... dramatic changes."