Chapter 6: The Beauty of the Flowers

Chapter 6:
The Beauty of the Flowers

“SO THESE ARE SOUVENIRS for us? Pride? Tiara?” Stale said.

When Tiara and I entered his practice room that day, we carried in an assortment of baskets, so many that the maids had to help us. A simple observation that morning had turned into a shopping trip. At nearly seventeen, Stale was too old to join the outing. He had to stay behind and help Uncle Vest. He’d practiced with Arthur in the meantime, though he now wore his usual attire again.

Stale pushed his black-rimmed glasses up his nose and surveyed the baskets on the table before him. Arthur stood at his side, decked out in his knight’s uniform, which he’d donned for practice despite having the day off. Tiara and I smiled at the boys’ reactions, suspicious as if they’d been handed a jack-in-the-box.

“Can we open them?” Arthur asked.

Tiara and I nodded, and the boys lifted the lids off their baskets. They let out a little cry of surprise when they saw the flowers inside.

Tiara and I had gone to a local hill famous for its flowers to pick these. Stale and Arthur plucked a few from the baskets, looking at them curiously.

“You picked so many for us,” Stale remarked.

He held small, jade-green flowers with many petals. They reminded me of cinerarias from my past life. They might have been a bit “cute” for someone like Stale, but I enjoyed the mature green color and glossy petals.

Arthur, meanwhile, held a handful of blue-and-white flowers. I thought the white matched his knight’s garb, while the blue at the center resembled his eyes. The six large petals, nearly chained to one another in their design, reminded me of lilies back home.

“They’re so pretty,” Arthur said. “Did you choose these for us?”

“Yes!” Tiara said happily, jumping at Arthur’s question. “Big Sister picked them all out, and she did such a wonderful job.”

“I chose them based on their meanings in flower language and what I thought would suit you two,” I said. “They represent things I’ve always felt describe you.” The boys raised their eyebrows, clearly unfamiliar with flower language.

“Explain it to them, Big Sister,” Tiara prompted.

“Well,” I said, embarrassed to be put on the spot so suddenly, “Stale’s flowers mean ‘wisdom,’ ‘the fruits of hard labor,’ and ‘a bond stronger than blood.’ Also…”

I rattled off the meanings, counting them on my fingers, but Stale stood more rigidly the longer I went on. He pressed his lips into a thin line and hardly moved. Was he even still breathing? I thought he might just die right there on the spot. He just watched me as I went through the list, which left me hesitant to explain the final meaning. I stood there, flustered, opening and closing my mouth as I gathered the courage to say it.

“‘I hope to be worthy of you,’” I finally said. “That’s the last one. I chose it because I want to be a proper queen worthy of a wonderful steward like you, and a proper sister too. Tiara feels the same, of course.”

Even mentioning Tiara’s devotion filled me with pride. I smiled to try to fend off the bashfulness coming on. But Stale still looked a bit stunned, face eerily blank as he stared at us. Was he upset?

Stale pressed the back of his hand against his mouth as heat crawled into his cheeks, his breathing quickened, and his glasses fogged. He almost seemed incapable of keeping himself together. It was as if he was reaching the dizzying heights of some grand emotion, although that seemed quite unlikely. If anything, I thought he might die right there on the spot. He bumped against Arthur beside him.

“Hey, what gives?” Arthur said, propping Stale up with one arm.

Stale just shook his head, still bright red from forehead to neck. I had no idea how to react to all this or what was wrong with him, so I just turned to Arthur’s flowers instead.

“As for Arthur’s…” I began.

Arthur’s shoulders jerked as though he feared suffering the same fate as Stale. Color seeped into his cheeks as I continued.

“Your flower means ‘heroic,’ ‘earnest,’ ‘strong and beautiful,’ which are all perfect for you, right? And…”

Arthur grabbed the front of his uniform, holding it like he was clutching his own heart. He threw his other arm over his face to hide the flush rising to the tips of his ears, almost fearful in his attempt to conceal them. I just kept on describing the flowers, even while Tiara covered her mouth with her hands to keep from laughing and the boy’s squirmy, puppylike reactions. This boy, too, appeared to be on death’s doorstep for some unexplained reason. Still, I was too busy barreling through my embarrassment to pay it much mind.

“‘I love the vow we made that day’…though that’s a bit different from the original meaning,” I concluded. “I wouldn’t say it’s inaccurate, though.”

Arthur looked like he might implode. I knew the flower language was a bit much—some people even used it for wedding vows—but surely he knew I was referring to the vow he made seven years ago to become a knight.

Even so, he stood there shaking like a leaf, quivering down to the very tips of his fingers. He kept hiding his face from me; for a moment, I even thought I saw a glitter of tears in his eyes. Also, was it just me, or was he looking around for something with which to end his suffering?

Meanwhile, Stale’s throat worked as he apparently tried over and over to swallow. Just what had I done to them with some simple flower language? I kept going regardless, trying not to smile at their obvious discomfort. Silence dragged on, like some kind of awkward live-TV mishap, and none of us seemed capable of making the next move.

“The flower languages are lovely, aren’t they?” Tiara said, offering us all a reprieve.

Stale and Arthur managed to nod. “Thank you so much,” they both said, voices hoarse.

“Well, anyway,” I said, trying to change the subject, “Tiara made something wonderful. Isn’t that right?”

At that, one of the maids at the back brought up another basket. Inside lay a dainty flower wreath woven out of colorful flowers. Stale and Arthur both cried out in awe.

“I didn’t have enough time to make one for Big Sister,” Tiara said shyly. “Would you two like to make one?” The boys froze, working through the implications of her invitation. Then they nodded, and Tiara beamed. “Please watch us, okay, Big Sister?” she said.

Tiara launched into her wreath-making class, directing while Stale and Arthur crafted in silence. I stepped back quietly, trying not to get in anyone’s way as I joined the maids and guards at the back of the room. Besides, I knew how intense boys could get once they set about a task.

I contented myself just watching Tiara, who’d grown so much these past ten years. She, Stale, and Arthur looked so happy together; I dared not ruin their peace. Eventually, they stopped working, and Tiara clapped her hands together with a cheer.

“That’s wonderful!”

“Are you done?! Let me see!” I said, rejoining them.

“They’re very, very lovely!”

Arthur and Stale had returned to their normal hues, but as soon as they realized their work was done their faces flushed all over again. I got close enough to peer over their shoulders at the wreaths they’d made.

“How lovely indeed!” I said.

Tiara had done an excellent job teaching them and Stale and Arthur had taken to the task like naturals. Their wreaths, one jade and one white and blue, could even rival Tiara’s.

“They’re just wonderful!” I said. “You two—no, you three are so talented.”

Arthur and Stale’s wreaths were striking and stark, especially as the boys had only used one type of flower each. I swelled with pride at having picked out these flowers for them; clearly, I’d chosen correctly. I clasped my hands in front of my chest, resisting the urge to jump and cheer.

Arthur and Stale just held quiet. In fact, they bit at their lips, looking down to hide the bright color of their faces. I ignored it, much more interested in evaluating their fine work.

“Um…” Arthur said at last. He held his wreath out toward me, and Stale followed suit. My mouth fell open at the generous and sudden offer.

“Tiara said she couldn’t make one for you.,” Stale said. “So, if you’d like, you can have ours.” His face went even redder as he spoke. Strain twisted his voice, and his eyes darted around as he said, “These represent our feelings for you.”

Arthur nodded, too busy trying to keep the heat from his face to speak.

I gaped at the gifts. Here I was trying to explain flower language to the boys, but then they turned it right back around and used that same language to offer me such kind gifts. I never dreamed that such a simple gesture on my part would result in such precious presents.

“Are you sure?” I asked, a smile beginning to bloom on my face.

The boys nodded vigorously.

“Please have them,” Stale insisted.

“We made them for you,” Arthur said.

“Thank you. I’m so very, very happy. I’ll cherish these forever!”

I beamed, reaching out for the wreaths. The boys’ eyes went wide again, as though they were afraid of me or something. Did my face really threaten them so? Tiara interrupted before I could reach the wreaths.

“I think they’ll both suit you very well,” Tiara said. “So please let my big brother and Arthur place them on your head. I want to see you wear them as crowns.”

Stale and Arthur immediately turned to each other in shock. Then, they snapped their heads around to gawk at Tiara in horror. Tiara just smiled sweetly at them. The usually eloquent Stale opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. Arthur gripped his wreath with intense force. The two of them froze completely, so I gently bowed my head, hoping to help. For some reason, they jerked away when I did that—I could see it through the curves of my lashes. I let my wavy hair fall over my shoulders, keeping my head down.

Finally, Stale stepped up and carefully placed his wreath on my head. The emerald flowers accented my red hair, a bright, brilliant contrast. Stale moved so slowly and cautiously that it was almost like a coronation. I could just imagine him being there for that moment, an honor he himself might have pictured before, but really he should have been practicing on Tiara instead.

Arthur quickly followed and set his own wreath on top of the other. “P-pardon me,” he mumbled.

Arthur’s wreath was slightly bigger than my head, even including my hair, but when I lowered my head a little, it settled atop Stale’s wreath and stayed there. The white and blue added to the splash of color. I raised my head again, now adorned with two flower crowns. I had to adjust them to get them to settle when I straightened.

“You look lovely!” Tiara told me.

I faced Stale and Arthur, waiting for their judgment as well. They watched me with their mouths hanging open and faces painted scarlet. I wasn’t sure what they saw as I stood there in the flowers they’d set in my hair, each with its own sentimental meaning, but it seemed to fluster them.

“You do look lovely.”

“They suit you.”

“You look so pretty.”

“It’s very cute.”

The boys babbled, words overlapping, and now it was my turn to be embarrassed. Having their attention on me left me shifting from foot to foot. I wasn’t a cute, bubbly girl like Tiara or some dainty flower fairy; I was eighteen and doomed to become the evil final boss of this world. Flower crowns didn’t suit me.

Not to mention that these particular flowers…

I reached for the baskets, still filled with flowers. I plucked one jade flower and one white flower free, then placed them in Stale and Arthur’s hair, respectively. They flinched when my fingers brushed against the locks beside their ears.

“Pride…” Stale said.

The boys reached up to the flowers I’d stuck in their hair, then glanced at each other. I smiled, satisfied with my work.

“Yes. I knew it. These flowers suit you two more than anyone else in the world,” I told them.

The jade flowers shone against Stale’s black locks, while the blue-and-white flowers accented Arthur’s silver hair.

“They really do suit you,” Tiara added.

The boys just blinked at each other. How could flowers be so shocking? Then they started shaking and I worried I’d actually done something wrong. But those flowers looked so lovely on them. Stale, the poised boy who sometimes wore a cunning smile, actually looked cute with a flower in his hair. Arthur, the muscular boy with the handsome face, looked like a young maiden with petals caught in his long tresses.

Perhaps they had this same thought because they suddenly started laughing. Their faces flushed once again, though this time it was from mirth rather than embarrassment. I cocked my head, at a loss for words as they cracked up, barely able to manage a thank-you. I couldn’t be that mad about seeing them so happy. Plus, I liked knowing that the flowers in their hair matched the flowers in mine. I smiled, just watching the boys laugh, then Tiara tugged at my dress.

“They look very good on you,” Tiara said, her gentle, golden eyes filled with a soft light as she smiled. Her head was the only one unadorned.

I reached into the basket, fetching one more crown for her. Tiara blinked at first, but her face lit up with happiness when I said, “But you look even better.”

I relished standing there with Tiara, Stale, and Arthur, all wearing the same flowers as me. The maids and guards watched our moment with familial tenderness. For these few blessed moments, we had no worries, no cares. We laughed with perfect happiness, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Our joyous little group symbolized the very peace of Freesia itself.