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Secateurs
With her garden boots and a pair of secateurs on her small hands, the young woman peeked from behind the rose bushes to see what the count is up to.
She pretends to polish the plants while looking at him.
The count was sitting on the nearby garden patio. On the table was an intricate marble teapot and a few cups, beside it, was a plate of steaming chocolate croissants and the count's favorite novel.
His stare was static, as if he was lost in a deep thought.
"Is he alright?" Asty asked herself.
The count suddenly yanked his head to the side, abruptly looking at her direction. Their eyes matched for a split second before Asty decided to look away and focus on her jo
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