Trails of Intertwined Stars: Chapter 74

~Chapter 2: The Gardener~

Leora later found herself out in the manor's grounds; an easel and canvas under one arm, with a bag containing her pallet and oil paints in the other. It was true, much like how her brother had eccentric hobbies for art, Leora did too. She loved art in many forms. She couldn't understand who wouldn't? What wasn't there to get? Though, considering the conversations she'd heard Henry have with his friends, they definitely had different opinions on art itself. Leora found a spot in the garden; a plot of grass with wild flowers, which gardeners had forgotten to tend to; nearby the old willow tree she used to climb on when she was much younger. Leora mounted the canvas onto the easel, setting up her colours and palette and squinting at the view; clutching down her dress as the wind blew. She started off with colours of greens, blues, yellows and purples; before slowly going into reds and whites. She often got lost in her own world whilst she created each piece, sticking out her tongue as she flicked the brush against the fabric.
"Like 'em?"
Leora screamed at the voice, spinning around and smacking the unknown person with the brush. A line of blue covered their face, as they fell onto the grass with a loud huff; cursing madly. Leora scowled down at the intruder, struggling to identify them. It was a boy, possibly the same age as her; with mousy brown hair and green eyes, his face peppered in freckles and spots, like he was a pointillism piece.

Leora struggled to find the words of apology as he scrubbed the paint off his face, only finding a deep rooted anger towards the boy.
"Who are you!?" Leora demanded, clenching her fists to her side," Why did you do that!?"
The boy blinked in shock, wiping the grass stains off his hazel dungarees; wincing a little.
"Jeez miss, I'm the new gardener..." He grumbled.
Leora furrowed her eyebrows, thinking.
"New gardener...?" She scowled," What happened to George?"
"Well, he retired," The boy shrugged as though it were common knowledge," You saw the man, he was practically falling to pieces. Your grandfather told me he was surprised he wasn't already dead. Besides, he didn't want the old guy tripping into a ditch and dying, it's not a good look."
Leora glanced at the grass, biting her lip in thought. That was the kind of self centered thinking her grandfather had. He was a wealthy man, yet when faced with paying anything to someone else, he became the most scrutinizing and stingy creature alive. Even vultures shared their meat more generously than him.
"Y'know," The boy smirked, snapping Leora out of her daze," It's rude not to answer a question."
Leora glared at him, bitterly," Sorry?"

"I asked if you liked the wild flowers, missy," The boy folded his arms," Do you?"
Leora glanced at the wild flowers stubbing out of the grass like whiskers on a cat, yet these were much more tangled and unkempt.
"From an artistic standpoint, yes," Leora stated, matter-of-factly," I find their composition and structure fascinating. It's not often I find such a unique subject. But from an everyday standpoint? They are an intrusive weed and not kept neat, I doubt my grandfather is paying you for standing idle and scaring his granddaughter."
The boy threw his head back with a laugh, which was so obnoxiously loud, it seemed to carry through the whole garden," I'm sorry missy, I didn't realise you were so stuck up!"
Leora glared at him, trying her best not to strike him at that moment. She clenched her fists tightly, restraining the urge as she clamped down on her teeth like a vice.
"Stuck up?" She echoed, resisting the urge to strangle him down on the grass," You think I'm stuck up? The granddaughter of the man who pays you?"
The boy suddenly grew quiet, in fact, he looked a little pale at the thought. He swiftly grabbed his straw hat off his head, clutching it to his chest like his very own heart.
"I'm sorry, miss," He apologized profusely," I didn't mean to insult ya'."

Leora smirked, crossing her arm and lightly tapping it with her finger. She was going to take full advantage of this situation.
"Your name?"
"S-Sorry miss," The boy murmured.
Leora arched an eyebrow," That's a funny sounding name?"
"It's Archie, miss," The boy swiftly answered, afraid he would be reported and sent out quicker than he had been welcomed," Archie Mills."
"Well, Archie Mills," Leora's expression darkened, taking a step closer; Archie stammered back in fear, dreading to already be fired.
Leora took a sharp breath. She wasn't that cruel.
"Can you fetch me some river water?" Leora tipped the stained water out of her paint pot onto the grass, before holding it up to him.
Archie stared at her, speechless, unsure what to say. He swiftly took it off her with a grin, nodding.
"Can do, Miss."
Leora watched as the gardener trotted off to fetch her the water for her painting. She let out a long sigh, turning back to her handiwork and studying it; seeing what she was missing. A few minutes later, she heard the crunching of grass under some heavy, clunky boots.
"Here, miss," Archie tapped her shoulder with a grubby finger, handing her the pot.
"Thank you," Leora murmured, immediately dipping her brush into the water and getting back to painting.

"It's funny," Archie sighed," Ya' using river water. I thought your kind only used the rich stuff."
Leora stopped, glancing back at him, confused.
"'My kind'?"
"Rich people," Archie shrugged his shoulders.
Leora's content expression twisted into a frown," Oh...well, I don't see why I should. Bringing nature into my piece will only make it more symbolic."
Archie hummed softly, staring at her brush strokes.
"That's nice, miss," Archie smiled," Would ya' like me to cut off some wild flowers for you to use as dye?"
Leora glanced back at him in shock, before the corners of her mouth twisted into a small smile.
"Yes," She smiled," I would."