Dawn breaks over four gardens, and four hearts forget themselves at once. Before the fire, before the vows, before the world calls them gods and goddesses - there is only dew-damp grass beneath bare feet, a flower reached for and a hand found instead, a peacock's cry breaking a held breath open. Here, love arrives the way monsoon arrives: unannounced, overwhelming, impossible to outrun. Four mornings. Four strangers. One unbearable, blooming first. This is Milan - where the epic hasn't yet caught up to their hearts.