[LCF Fanfic] This Garden We Made (WIP)

I. Roses

"What are you doing, Kyle?" Cale asked his younger brother whom he found crouching in front of a rose bush.

There were also two maids escorting Kyle, each putting on gloves and holding a small pruner. The moment they spotted Cale, the maids hastily curtsied before returning to their task.

Kyle calmly looked up from the water container that had already soaked several cut stems of avalanche roses in peach and pink colours. The roses had not been in full bloom yet; surrounded by the spread of outer-most petals were the fresh buds not opening completely.

"Why are you back so soon from your training?" Kyle answered him with another question, and years of familiarity helped Cale pick up on the confusion soft in his brother's voice.

It made Cale frown a bit more. Kyle who would normally not be getting up at this hour in the morning unless he had a lesson was seen in the garden harvesting roses.

What could be so worthy that his little brother was willing to sacrifice his precious rest for?

And why did it have to be roses?

"I went back to fetch a few things," Cale said, the grip he had on his wooden sword subconsciously tightening. "Lucky that I did because, otherwise, I wouldn't know what my brother was doing without telling me."

Cale watched the faint grimace on Kyle's small face, a strange, distant, feeling of satisfaction aching in his chest amidst the anger of the past few months. The overwhelming resentment and loneliness.

Kyle had been so acceptant, so inquisitive that it was infuriating, that Cale looked childish and unreasonable in comparison.

He did not hate Kyle, could never, but he hated this persistent feeling of betrayal, hated the fact that he did not know who to even blame.

And this gradual, yet constant, accumulation of grievances was triggered at the sight of Kyle by the roses, reddish-brown eyes oh so attentive. Cale wanted to ask after him, where are your gloves? Those stems haven't been dethroned yet, please be careful with your hands. But Kyle was so evasive about his plans, a seven-year-old child so good at hiding and keeping things to himself.

However, one thing was clear to Cale: Kyle had not expected his older brother to be here.

Cale had lost one person who he loved dearly, and now was feeling so disconnected with another despite being so close.

Right at the moment Cale decided to run back to the training ground before he lashed out at the only one whom he did not ever desire to hurt, Kyle started to speak.

"Does this rose garden look neglected to you?"

It was such an inconsequential and unrelated topic, hardly worth being late for his training session, but Cale knew Kyle was never one to say nonsense unlike most children of his age. So Cale said honestly, "It does."

It was indeed neglected. The bushes had turned a bit wild and dull without proper pruning and fertilizing. There was a distinct lack of springtime decoration throughout the estate which should have been embellished with beautiful blooms in numerous vases once spring arrived.

Tending to the gardens and furnishing the mansion were fulfilled under the guidance of the Countess. A position left empty for now.

"Mother wouldn't want to see it in such a state." Kyle continued, "I don't want to see Mother's garden in such a state."

And Cale suddenly found it difficult to breathe, difficult to stop the slight tremble of his hands. Those words softly spoken in a clear boyish voice seemed to strike a chord.