The barren place where his father stood was formerly a garden full of ever-blooming, elegant, variegated camellias. It was his mother's favourite spot. The very garden was where she used to spend her leisure time tending flowers and held tea parties with other noble ladies. Children would run around as their innocent giggles resonated throughout the garden. They'd play in the snow, hiding under the snow-covered bushes and even tried to hide under the table where the ladies gathered and that got Anastasius’ mother reprimanded them for their mischief. Nonetheless, everyone enjoyed the cosy atmosphere; mellow laughters. The garden would usually be occupied by smiles as bright and sweet as the sun shining in the winter.

Whenever the matriarch took a stroll, she would always hand-in-hand with two gentlemen by her sides; one with relatively small knuckles wrapped around the motherly hand and another, whose figure is taller than them and a big yet careful white-gloved hand would pull the lady’s fingers to his smiling lips, showering her with his eternal love. Before him was his parents that showed their affection openly and once they had their moment, his mother would turn to him with her ever-summer smile and his father who would give them a group hug, who would always expressed his love endlessly. 

The nostalgia gave him a surreal feeling of a sudden warmth from the recollection.

Sigh.

Another sigh was made. The sudden memory came to him, giving Anastasius a realisation that he almost forgot about his mother that used to give life to this cold palace before she met her fate.

Sigh.

He heaved a sigh. He watched the blended hues in the sky as the soft ice crystal slowly descending. His black-gloved hand open to let the snowflake landed on his covered palm. Clenching his hand closed, he gritted his teeth together before loosening his jaw and gave another sigh. 

Landric looked around the barren garden with dried bushes with nothing left but leaves covered in pile of snow. It has been years since he felt and see her warmth against him, it seemed like on yesterday, where the usual strong scented camellias somehow gave out sweet fragrance that reminded him of her scent whenever they embraced each other. This very ground he stood, he remembered those warm fingers of hers that held their son’s hand lovingly and her soft, warm skin came in contact with his lips like a divine blessing. It was a bliss, to have these two souls that stood before him. They were enough to fill him completely like a sweet honey in a full comb. An everlasting sweetness that ended with a tragic crash; where he had lost a friend, a best friend, a lover, a wife and along the way, he lost a son.