𝒜 𝒟𝒶𝒾𝓈𝓎 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝐻𝒾𝓈 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

Lukas: 7

I stand in the middle of this four story mall, bodyguards hidden away, wearing nothing but jeans, a t shirt, parka, sneakers, a hat, and a mask. Okay, I know it seems like a lot, but for me, I'm used to wearing heavy jewels, tassels, golden plates, brooches, crowns, velvet, sometimes even fur capes. Capes! I don't know who they think I am, but I'm certainly not a cape person. Anyone who had looked at me once could tell you that. 

But anyways, I feel bad about my cold attitude towards Valentina, so I decided to pick up a pot of flowers for her to 'enhance' the relationship, as our monarchies have so kindly been telling us to do.

Whatever. I'm doing this because I feel bad, and want to help make our arrangement seem real. I don't owe her anything, besides maybe a small apology, but besides that, we're business partners. We don't hurt each other. She's just as cold to me, and she probably wasn't even hurt by it.

I reach the floral shop just as they bring in fresh roses.

Their piercing sent reaches me. Roses smell different than other flowers. Sharp and bitter, like you'll always know their presence, even if you can't exactly see them. The scent hits me hard, and it makes me dizzy, like always. 

Stumbling a few steps back, I cough, and shake my head. I'm not here to stop and smell the roses. Quite literally.

I take a peek around, and let my eyes land on the daisy display as our last conversation replays in my head.

Valentina stares at me with cold eyes, and her lips part slightly in surprise at my question before saying without hesitation,

"Daisies." She nods. "They are simple and overlooked. A pretty flower, but everyone else picks the roses, or lilies, or carnations, or sunflowers, or even hibiscus, but daisies are always a reliable choice. Always there, filling in the background that the others can't, you know?"

I don't know what the right thing to say to that is, so I just nod and look to her eyes. They're filled with an expression almost as if she sees right through me, but also right at me. Like she sees my soul. Not going to lie, a tad creepy, but it also makes me feel a little seen. Odd, considering our discussion is on pretty weeds.

"Go on." I nod.

She hesitates for a moment, but then waves her driver away as she takes my hand off of the carriage step.

"I feel like daisies are so... raw. And it makes my heart hurt when I see them in grocery stores, all dyed exotic colors, cut from the stems, only to be taken to peoples homes where most of them become lovely gifts for a day, and then never watered again. There should be fields after fields of them, just in their inherent place in nature. They don't have to be the stars of the show. They just have to be there supporting everything. But when they're forced into peoples homes, as beautiful gifts, they do a mighty fine job, don't they?" She looks real for the first time. It's bewitchingly beautiful, and I'm afraid I might get sucked into her dangerous web of enchanting words. It's a weakness, my honesty when it comes to words.

"Yes," I nod, my voice a hoarse whisper. "Was that a metaphor?"

"What else?" She smirks, whispering into my ear. "It's true to both you and the daisies, isn't it, Luke? What else are you hiding under your seemingly simple self? Because I think the mighty fine job you would do is being king. I know it. The monarchy knows it. Your kingdom knows it. So why don't you?"

My face heats from her closeness, her chest grazing mine while she leans over to whisper. The sudden heatwave boils over my body, making me want to claw my way out of this kingly uniform.

"No filter, remember?  I have no desire to be anything but business partners. But I'll tolerate you, as long as you quit acting like such a fool and get some confidence. We're in this together, whether you like it or not, so I'll help you. Even so, know that you can do most of this on your own. If I could at thirteen, you can at eighteen." She pulls her face away. "You haven't peaked yet."

I'm too frozen in my spot to move, so when she moves to kiss my cheek, I just stare with a steaming red face. 

Her lips leave the side of my face, and her lashes flicker open and closed slowly.

"I noticed your metaphor earlier too; about the roses? You thought I would miss that, didn't you? The worst part of it was, I related to it." She laughs as she makes towards her carriage. "Later, Luke."

I finally realize I'd been glued to my stance, so I do the only thing I can think of.

"Later, Valentina."

And I swear I saw a glimpse of a smile.

I don't even have to look at the flowers for longer than seven seconds for my brain to know that I'm not buying any flowers today. They're all either colored with some fake dye, or not even potted. 

"Y-your Majesty?" The shop keeper exclaims. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I.. I just stopped by to see business, sir. I apologize for sounding like I know better, but may I advise you on something?" I ask.

"Of course. It would be an honor to get advice from you, our king." He beams.

"I would have more potted plants that last longer in here. When they are gifted, they will last longer than just the following week, don't you agree?" 

"Of course, Your Majesty, I will get more in immediately." He nods, and skips away, looking chipper.

And I head to a place I know I can find more luck with; the jewelry store.

It might be early, but I need help with navigating the whole 'king' thing. Even if we're lying, as long as we're good actors, this plan should go accordingly.

What the public doesn't know won't hurt them.

Time to get the ball rolling.