Sitting in front of Selvin's statue with her favourite orange flowers blooming on the ground, Loraven stared at the previous King of Dunhurst. The weather was cooler now, but to a snow elf like her, a Lyvarian, it felt mild. Still, the King insisted a blanket lay on her legs and her fur-collared cloak wrapped around her shoulders that made one sweat more than anything.
She wished Osian would put more effort into keeping the King's garden in good condition. Though it was winter, it still remained the same in the summer. The only flowers that were alive were the orange ones she tended to.
The surroundings were full of weeds, the ground hard and cold leaves on the bushes brown. The King loved his brother and once kept it vibrant, but Eleanor complained the servants who tended to the garden were needed in her own extravagant one. Osian did settle it by getting more servants, but they, too, were stolen by the Queen for other matters.