𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 | charlize theron

ravenna; roses

"It's a wonder these flowers are alive at all." A voice calls softly, just above my head. I look up, peach petals laying delicately on my fingertips. Smiling I see the Queen of the very castle looking down at me.

Why she ever payed any mind to me at all I don't know, why she didn't kill me was a wonder too. I am made aware of the mucky cyan dress I'm wearing compared to hers made out of fine materials. Ones for a Queen.

"Your Majesty." I nod, small smile playing on my lips as I continue to remove leaves and dying heads from the mostly blooming rosebush. "To what do I own the pleasure?"

Her fingers settle under my chin, body leaning over the banister as she pulls my face up to look at hers again, "Need there be a reason?" She doesn't use the one with the metal claw that digs and cuts the skin, drawing blood, it's her fingertips, gently brushing my skin. I look into her eyes, grey-blue and dancing with amusement.

Her hands are soft and unscarred unlike mine, which bleed and are scarred. The callouses adorn them from the labouring around her garden, the one thing that is moderately alive in the whole of the lands.

"Not particularly."

"That's what I thought." She murmurs, blonde hair fixed in the updo I've familiarised myself with over the past couple months. She removes her hand, allowing my head to return to its normal level, as if she's done examining my face. I continue my pruning the flowers wrapped around the grey stone, Ravenna leaning on her forearms to watch me work.

I sigh and step back to admire my handiwork. My stomach flips and I place a hand on it, smiling slightly in surprise. I remember whose presence I'm in, fear and horror overtaking my senses.

My eyes lift in alarm and I see the Queen frowning. "You're pregnant again." I don't say anything, bowed head indicating enough, and her statement proof she already knows. Her eyebrows furrow and her eyes contain a sadness and jealousy I wish I didn't understand. I wish I didn't sympathise with.

Small arms wrap around my leg and I look down to see a boy with bright green eyes and brown hair like my husband. "Ma! Ma!" He laughs, arms now reaching up to me. I lift him into my arms, placing the pliers on the stone side to keep them away from his delicate hands. "Dad asked me to come get you for food." I feel her eyes watching me.

"Alright baby, you go run back and tell him I'll be there soon okay?" He smiles, eyes wide with excitement as I place him down, running off in his brown shirt that have holes in desperate need of sewing. I turn back to the queen who watched our encounter in silence.

"He's cute. What's his name?" She leans to look at me, voice not harsh nor soft. I try not to let it bug me much, reminding myself of where I lie in the hierarchy of the castle.

"Milo." I reply.

"Are you happy? With...him?" She grimaces changing the question to one she's more interested in. She evidently can't stand the idea of me with the man I call my husband. Of me with any man at all.

"It was arranged, you know I didn't have a choice." I pick up the pliers from the stone wall, eyes averted, and mood completely ruined. I stare at the torn hem of my dress, muddied and old. A sign of my poverty and of our separation. Her fingers lift my chin again, eyes sympathetic but jealous.

Her lips press briefly to mine, almost intangible, barely touching. She pulls back but I grab her face, pulling her lips completely to mine. Her hand wraps around my neck, depriving me of air. Her lips disconnect from mine, our foreheads still touching. "I hate every second of us." She whispers, scared of her own words.

I take her hands in mine, "Me too, but I'm just your gardener and that's all."

...

A/N : i hate this one but I needed to post something