——— [NOTE: All flower meanings are in asterisks, *like this*] ——— “Nearly every sentiment can be expressed by flowers. It’s been said that, ‘Flowers are a perfect replica of human life: Planting, growth, bloom, withering.’” When I found out my best friend was getting married, I gave him a single petunia. It had started when we were seven, and my father, a blacksmith, introduced me to his newest apprentice, a boy of around sixteen called Thomas. With Thomas was his brother, a scrawny boy with messy brown hair, an array of freckles on his tanned and golden brown skin, and large mismatched eyes—one green, one blue—that scanned the room warily, his gaze owllike. Being the curious child I was, I marched right up to the strange boy and stuck out my hand. “I’m Amelia,” I had told him, my shoulders squared and feet apart in a stance like I was going into battle. “What’s your name?” I’d demanded, bossy as always. The boy studied me for a moment before answering, his words quiet. “I’m Alexander. Or- Alex, yeah. I’m Alex.” He said, still studying me. I studied him right back, squinting slightly as I looked him up and down. “My papa has a garden. Wanna see the flowers?” I finally asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. Alexander– no, Alex’s face brightened immediately as he grinned, showing a gap in his teeth. He nodded enthusiastically, and I took that as an invitation to grab his wrist and sprint out the door, yelling a quick goodbye to my father as I dragged my new friend off to show him my flowers. From that moment, the two of us were inseparable. We did everything together. We laughed, played, learned, got in trouble, and grew up together. And as the years went by, we both changed. I stopped trying to be different, stopped antagonizing femininity, and learned to control my temper. Alex grew out of his shell, becoming something akin to a social butterfly, and although he was still the same soft spoken and anxious boy he’d always been, he learned to let loose, have fun. Through all of this, something changed. I don’t exactly know when, but one day I looked at my best friend, and realized that maybe the village girls weren’t so wrong about him being attractive. He wasn’t so scrawny anymore, no, he’d grown into his long limbs. His hair was longer, just slightly, but it just accentuated his bright eyes. His freckles had only multiplied, and I often had to suppress the urge to trace them, count them like stars. And there was still a gap in his teeth, but I found it rather endearing. This realization made me panic. What was going on? And instead of confronting my feelings, I did the impulsive thing and ignored them, thinking, hoping, that it would all go away. So ignore my feelings I did, until one fateful day when we were both twenty years old and my world came crashing down. I had taken up a job as a lady-in-waiting in the palace one year prior, and had quickly grown accustomed to the early morning. That particular day, I was staring at myself in the mirror, making sure I looked presentable before I started my duties. My fingers reached up to brush the inner corner of my right eye, the dark birthmark there standing out against my fairly tanned skin as I glanced at the clock. Ten minutes until I had to go, just enough time to wrangle my unruly brown waves into a neat bun. “Want some help, Mimi?” A voice behind me asked, and I turned to my savior. Angeline, my fellow lady-in-waiting, and one of my best friends. She was the epitome of beauty in my opinion, with pale, rosy skin, silky blonde hair, and baby blue eyes. Almost like a princess, I thought as she expertly gathered my hair and twisted it into a perfect bun. “And… done,” Angeline smiled, stepping back. “Thanks,” I smiled with relief, and my friend shook her head. “No need to thank me,” she said, handing me a sprig of monkshood with a knowing smile. “Someone wanted me to give you this, by the way.” I laughed to myself. Monkshood, in flower language, meant ‘beware, a deadly foe is near.’ Flowers had always been our way of talking. This was Alex’s way of telling me he got in trouble with the captain of the guard, again. He would survive, I thought, and headed to work. That afternoon, I was sitting on a small hill on the outskirts of the village, waiting for Alex to arrive so we could rant about our days. “Boo,” a voice came from above, and I looked up to see Alex sitting in the tree behind me. He jumped down with a grin, nudging his shoulder with mine. I noticed he was rolling a hellebore bloom between his fingers. Anxiety. [Continued in Notes and Credits]
[CONTINUED] “Hey,” I said, my voice softer than usual. “What’s wrong? You can tell me. I promise.” “You swear?” He asked, looking at me with a slight fear. I nodded without hesitation. “Of course, Alex. You can tell me anything.” Alex looked conflicted but nodded with a soft sigh. “I… I’m getting married, Amelia.” I blinked, feeling my heart sink as I tried to keep my composure. “Who’s the lucky girl?” I asked, forcing a smile into my voice. Alex didn’t meet my eyes. “...Angeline.” He admitted, his voice low. “In two weeks.” My world shattered in that instant. I felt paralyzed as I tried to process what I was hearing. My best friends were marrying… each other? And they hadn’t told me until now? “Amelia, I-” Alex tried to speak but I had already stood, not looking at him as I strode to the flower fields, searching for something. Tears blocked my vision as I walked back over with something in my hand. “For you,” I spat, letting a single petunia fall from my hand into Alex’s lap. Deep resentment and anger. He finally looked up, his heartbreak and despair evident in his eyes, but I only turned away and hurried back to the village, to my home. He didn’t matter anymore, not now that he had betrayed me like this. Angeline was in my room, of course she was. My best friend, the girl I had considered my sister, and now, a traitor. “How could you?!” I bursted out, slamming the door behind me. I took a step, she backed up, fear flashing across her face. “You’re marrying Alex?! My Alex?! You traitor! You knew I loved him, Angeline! You always knew! You swore you’d help me! And now you go and do this?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Mimi, I- I-” She stuttered, trying to explain. I didn’t let her finish. “No, no, you don’t get to explain how you’re marrying him, you traitor, why would you even-!” She cut me off this time. “Because I didn’t have a choice!” She practically yelled, tears forming in her eyes as her chest heaved. “I never wanted to marry him! It was arranged! Did you even use your head, Amelia? Why would I ever do that to you? I’m trapped!” I was stunned into silence, stepping back as I profusely apologized. “Oh my god- Angie, I’m so so sorry- I didn’t even-” Angeline sniffled, wiping her tears. “I never even wanted to marry,” she practically whispered. “My father is forcing me.” I stared at her, processing, before I wrapped her in a tight hug. “I am so sorry,” I murmured, squeezing her slightly. “We’ll get you out. I’ll even challenge your father to a duel if I have to.” That got a soft laugh out of her as she pulled back from the hug. “Y-yeah, it’s possible,” she smiled, but I could see she was trying to convince herself. “We- we can do it… right?” “Right,” I smiled, making sure I seemed confident. “You and Alex won’t get married, not on my watch.” “Speaking of Alex…” she started. “How’d you find out? Did he tell you?” “Yeah, he- oh my god,” I muttered as it dawned on me. “I- I practically declared my unending hatred for him… he thinks I hate him- this is not good.” Angeline nearly choked on air. “You- what?” “I- I thought- oh no…” I paced in circles, tugging on the ends of my hair. “Oh my god- I have to tell him…” “Go,” Angie nodded with a slight smile. “I’ll be fine. But you need to make sure he doesn’t think you hate him. Before it’s too late for you to apologize.” I nodded and ran out the door, hoping I hadn’t made an irreparable mistake. Alex was still sitting on that hill, staring at the petunia. He didn’t notice I was there until I was sitting quietly next to him. I took a shaky breath before speaking. “I’m sorry,” I said, tears threatening to fall as I stared at the ground. “God, Alex- I am so so so sorry- I should have been calm- I should have talked with you- I should have been a better friend.” The word ‘friend’ felt bitter on my tongue, but I pushed it away. That wasn’t the focus right now, my feelings weren’t the focus. Alex was. “Amelia,” he murmured, placing his hand on mine. I looked up. “It’s okay,” he smiled softly, moving slightly closer. My heart sped up at the movement. “You’re sure?” I asked quietly, trying to keep my voice from breaking. “I- I just completely blew up at you back there- and I was so horrible and insensitive-” I was cut off by the feeling of his lips pressed to mine, and my mind blanked. Alex finally pulled away, a soft smile on his lips. “I love you,” he assured me softly, pressing his forehead against mine. “Nothing can change that.” Meanwhile, I noticed his hand pressing something into my palm. I looked down to see a primrose blossom. *I can’t live without you.* Alex looked at me, smiling shyly. I could see he was slightly nervous from the way his hands were fidgeting. “Do you…?” He started, clearly worried I was going to reject him. I decided to answer his silent question by pulling him into a soft kiss. “Yes,” I murmured against his lips, lacing our fingers together. “I love you too.” ——
