Edgar did not say or do much with most of his and Ada's time in the gardens spent watching Arabella go around, exploring the place as though it was her first time out there.
The view and scents had the merit of making her smile, but something about those beams did not sit right with Ada. At least, it seemed like it.
They were distant, earning her a hazy look. For all one knew, neither Ada nor Edgar spoke to her in those moments because they believed she wouldn't respond as her mind was probably lost somewhere far away from them.
"They turned out splendidly," the young woman cupped a white rose between her hands, "Will you be trimming them again soon?" she then pointed at a specific flower. One that stuck its head out among the rest.
However, the further her arm extended, the more the sleeve around it retracted, exposing her flakey and dried skin from the constant bathing.
