In some places, the snow had melted and formed slick patches of black ice. Horses picked their dainty way to and fro. The air felt crisp and moist through the open window of the Ebonaire carriage; each breath tasted of fresh snow and pine. The Flower District spanned four blocks on the far west side of The Regency. Sora thought it resembled something out of a storybook. Clean cobblestones and wide flagstones paved the road. Signs painted with fancy gold-leaf lettering hung above each boutique. Despite the layer of snow dusting the streets, winter blossoms grew in long planters by the side of the road. Flowers bloomed beneath windowsills, above doorways, or in large pots next to the entrance of each store. She recognized bright pink camellias, dainty white snowdrops, sprawling winter jasmine and bushels of purple violets, all hardy plants with small, bright petals that could resist the frost. She imagined in Spring the District would be overflowing with color and rich perfume. And bees, she thought.
