The night was as dark as ink, with moonlight filtering through the sparse leaves, casting dappled shadows and adding a touch of serenity and mystery to the garden of the Magistrate's Manor.
Emily Parker stood alone, glancing around with a vigilant expression.
Her skirt swayed gently with the night breeze, her long hair lifted and clung to her slightly tense face.
The slight bulge of her abdomen was faintly visible under the skirt, adding a gentle maternal glow to her.
After waiting for a while, just as Emily was about to turn and leave, she saw a tall figure slowly emerge from the shadows of the trees.
He was a middle-aged man, about forty years old, standing erect like a pine tree under the moonlight.
He wore a dark-colored cloth robe, the hem fluttering casually in the breeze, in stark contrast to the luxurious formal attire of the guests attending the inauguration ceremony tonight.
