Raindrops trickled down the window, tracing their path just like the relentless march of time. To Serena, this notion felt profound, almost too distant to grasp, but it mirrored the depth of her own heartache.

Without a second thought, she lunged through the open door, deaf to the frantic footsteps of the servants, determined to escape the suffocating despair that clung to her. In the heart of the garden, amidst the pouring rain, she let herself crumble.

The raindrops caressed her cheeks, a gentle touch that mingled with something far more bitter—the tears of her wounded soul. They flowed freely here, her safe space , where she could unleash her grief without judgment .

As the heavens wept alongside her, Serena's pain was known only to the whispering leaves and the silent statues that guarded her solitude. In this poignant moment of release, the world receded into the background, the servants faded into the distance, and, finally, silence enveloped her—a silence echoing the profound stillness of her tormented heart and  there was a profound silence—an echo of the heartache that had driven her to seek solace in the rain.