An Aster and His Little Daisy

Chapter Six: The Long Lost Childhood Friend, Gardenia

"Who?"

"I am undeniably uncertain for I am new here, Your Highness, though I did ask his name and he said to address him as Oli?" She said confusingly. Anyway, her gestures were completely fine to me because I am aware that she is one of the new palace maids.

"Oli? I could hardly remember someone named Oli."

"-must I be in the dining room this instant?"

"Yes, but I can make adjustments for yo-"

"I would gladly appreciate it if you make adjustments for me. Kindly notify them, including the guest named Oli." I beamed shortly and closed my door.

Some people are enlivened by the thought of being eighteen, yet I am not. The following weeks are full of schedules circling in one view. Being the future queen. I mean, I do not mind, but in order to be the future queen (which I will be one day), I must marry someone first before I could have my coronation. Well, that's our law here in Bournechère.

I don't want to seem rude. Being labeled as a snob is enough, rather than accelerating to be named as discourteous.

I left my room leaving the door slowly creaking as it closed. Entering the dining room, I was welcomed by the presence of my Father and Mother; surprised that Lord Fitzgerald was there. He is the Earl of Begonia. His wife is also present who's the Countess of Begonia, she is Lady Fitzgerald.

Their family is known to be spiteful. Not Oliver though. He is just coquettish to ladies. Speaking about Oliver, I presume that he was the guest, Oli. How infantile.

I offer and shake hands with the Earl of Begonia, wearing an afternoonified attire. Followed by the Countess of Begonia, we also shake hands. I adhere that she aims to present herself as tinselled.

I shortly curtsied to Father as well as for Mother then sat down next to her, "Perhaps, did Oliver come too?"

Lord Fitzgerald's gaze was steady, though his eyes had a glint of curiosity. "Indeed, Lady Juliet," he said with a polite but distant nod. "Oliver is here. He's quite eager to see you."

As I took my seat, I noticed that Oliver—now known to be Oli—was absent. The dinner commenced with polite conversation about the weather and current events, but my thoughts wandered. I hadn't seen Oli since we were children. He was once a close friend, someone I'd played with in the palace gardens and shared secrets with. Life had pulled us apart, as it often does, and the memories of our childhood days felt like a distant, sweet dream.

The meal was served, a rich array of dishes that spoke of the palace's opulence. However, my mind was fixed on the possibility of reconnecting with Oli. What kind of person had he become? Had he changed as much as I had?

In the middle of the dinner, the door opened, and in walked Oli, or rather, Oliver, now a young man with an air of confidence that was undeniably charming. His eyes scanned the room until they locked onto mine. A genuine smile broke across his face, transforming his expression from the casual air of a visitor to something more reminiscent of the boy I had known.

"Juliet," he said, his voice a warm, familiar sound. He approached me, extending his hand in a friendly manner. "It's been a long time."

I took his hand, feeling the callouses of years gone by. "Oliver," I said, attempting to match his ease, "it certainly has."

We exchanged pleasantries as we took our seats, and the conversation naturally flowed around us. Oliver spoke of his travels and the places he had seen, recounting stories with an engaging flair that made everyone at the table listen with rapt attention. Despite his polished demeanor, there was a spark in his eyes that hinted at the playful boy I remembered.

As the dinner progressed, Oliver leaned closer and whispered, "I didn't expect to see you here, Juliet. I had heard rumors of your impending betrothal."

I nodded, "Yes, it's been a topic of great discussion lately. It seems my life is on a predetermined path."

Oliver's expression softened. "I remember how you used to talk about your dreams of freedom. It must be difficult, having those dreams so constrained."

"It is," I admitted quietly. "I often wonder what my life would be like if I could make my own choices."

He studied me for a moment before speaking again. "We've all had to make sacrifices. Some more than others. But I believe there's still room for hope."

The conversation drifted to more general topics, but Oliver's words lingered in my mind. Could there be hope in my situation, or was it just a distant fantasy?

As the dinner concluded, guests began to depart. Oliver lingered, his eyes searching mine as if he had something more to say. Finally, when the room had emptied and only the soft glow of the chandelier illuminated the space, he spoke.

"Juliet, may I have a word?"

"Of course," I replied, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

We walked together into the garden, away from the eyes of the court. The evening air was cool, and the moon cast a gentle light over the well-manicured lawns. Oliver led me to a secluded bench, and we sat together, the silence between us comfortable.

"You've grown into a remarkable young woman," Oliver said, breaking the silence. "I've seen many changes in you from afar, and I've heard whispers of your struggles."

"I didn't think my life would become a subject of gossip," I said, trying to keep my tone light.

"Life in the palace is never truly private," Oliver observed. "But I wanted to see you, to understand more about what you're facing."

I took a deep breath. "It's a lot to bear, Oliver. I feel like I'm constantly being pulled in different directions. Duty versus desire, tradition versus freedom."

Oliver nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. You were always someone who valued freedom and authenticity. It's a shame that these values sometimes conflict with the roles we are given."

His understanding was a comfort, and I found myself opening up more than I intended. "I'm also troubled by the changes to the family crest. The idea of replacing 'Love' with 'Duty' feels like erasing a part of our history and ourselves."

Oliver's gaze was serious. "Symbols are powerful, Juliet. They represent our values and our past. Altering them can be more than just changing a sign; it can be a reflection of deeper shifts."

"Yes," I agreed. "That's exactly how I feel."

Oliver took my hand gently. "I can't pretend to have all the answers, but I want to help. Perhaps there are ways to find balance between duty and personal freedom. Together, we might be able to navigate this path."

His words were a beacon of hope. I looked at him, realizing that our reunion might be more than a mere coincidence. It could be a chance for both of us to find a way through the complexities of our lives.

"Thank you, Oliver," I said softly. "Your support means more than you know."

As we walked back toward the palace, the stars above seemed to shine a little brighter. For the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of hope, not just from our conversation but from the prospect of having someone who truly understood and cared for my struggles.

With Oliver by my side, perhaps the journey ahead might be a little less daunting.