Butterfly Reign - SilentTeyz

32

It's a sunny summer day when Mother gets her portrait done in the gardens.

She sits under a canopy with a table and a steaming pot, pouring the fragrant liquid into a tiny porcelain cup while the royal painter gets the canvas and the paints ready. Mother wouldn't start her day without having some tea first. Tommy, with the same sweet tooth of every child in their growing years, could not fathom the reason for anybody wanting to swallow something so bitter on a regular basis.

Three cubicles of sugar made it tolerable whenever Tommy felt like joining her at the table. He would've added more if Mother hadn't told him that it can make his teeth fall off. Tommy passes his tongue over his teeth, just to check that they're still intact.

But today is not a tea-drinking day. Tommy is on a mission. A few months back he brought a pouch of seeds from their trip to the forest with Techno and planted them. He remembers so very little from that day that he couldn't recall which flowers he has collected them from, but that's alright, because they have grown much ever since and turned into a beautiful batch of rosebays. Tommy has taken care of them all by himself, secretly, with almost no help from the gardeners.

The prince's hands are golden, they would murmur about him in warm approval. Every plant that Tommy nurtured somehow always ended up being the most lavish and bright in the entirety of palace gardens.

Regardless of how excited, he takes his time to collect the flowers without harming the roots. Once he has an armful ready, he ties them carefully with a ribbon and runs back to the Empress. Getting a face-full of petals on every step, Tommy can't see where he's going and almost knocks over the easel with the canvas when it insidiously grows in his vision.

"Careful, Your Highness." Nykita – or Nyny, as the palace staff has taken to calling the royal painter – deftly snatches up the wooden frame of what would be another ruined painting if he hasn't already developed reflexes against Tommy's habit to make robust and most catastrophic appearances. Tommy rocks back to the heels of his feet, smiling the same bright-toothed sheepish smile that always fetched

him out of trouble. A lavish bouquet in the curve of his arms and a shower of petals in his hair only aid to enhance the aura of innocence.

True enough, the painter rolls his eyes fondly and puts the canvas back on the easel. Rough strokes of paint have mapped out the grass and the palace in the background, along with the centerpiece of the work – the Empress herself. Nyny steps back, holding the wooden palette, tucking the brush behind his ear as he critically inspects the painting up and down.

"I think there is enough space for a prince here, don't you think?"

Tommy doesn't need to be told twice. Jostling to movement, he runs to his mother, where she poses under a weeping willow.

"Mom!" he shouts. "Look!"

The Empress looks at him, but something in her face makes Tommy slow down, and then, halt in his steps completely. The sweet scent of rosebays turns nauseating while he clenches the bouquet harder and tries to pinpoint what exactly feels wrong. Mother should've asked him about the flowers by now – prompting a proud tirade from the boy, and no less appraisal from her in turn. But she smiles. Just smiles.

"Mom?" Tommy calls out, unsure.

She opens up her arms, like for a hug. Thousands of butterflies burst into the air and block the sun. He falls to his knees, to his chest, and crawls beneath the swarm, crying for his mother repeatedly through strangled sobs. He reaches her. Collapses at the hem of her dress and looks up, desperate, but wishes he had run the other way when she stares him down with eyes full of liquid gold.