The morning in Ivora was soft and gentle. The air carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers and fresh dew. I stepped off our waiting vehicle, and immediately, Ivora embraced me with a burst of color. The city was a living celebration—a place where every corner sang of renewal, where blossoms danced in the breeze and laughter mingled with the chatter of vendors.
Today, we had no formal duties. Alexander and I were free to wander as we pleased. We had donned simpler clothes, not the heavy regalia of our roles, so that for once we could be ourselves. I wore a light, cream-colored shirt with a simple, navy vest, and Alexander chose a relaxed, white linen ensemble that brought out the warmth in his eyes. The transformation was subtle but liberating. For a while, we were just two men exploring a city of blossoms.
