Lovely outing

Flora walked slowly through the palace gardens, finishing half of her paperwork. The light of the late afternoon brushed her hair, and her steps fell softly against the stone paths. She found Marcus standing before the roses, his gaze fixed on a single bloom that seemed to outshine the rest.

“Marcus,” Flora said softly, approaching him, “wasn’t it lavender you loved?”

He didn’t turn immediately, his hand brushing lightly over the petals. “I… I used to think so,” he said, voice low. “But it seems even flowers have secrets. Lavender is too common. This… this one is mine.”

She knelt slightly to inspect the rose. Its petals were crimson, dark and rich, almost like spilled blood, with a black stem lined with sharp thorns. “It’s… beautiful,” she whispered. “And dangerous.”

Marcus finally looked at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Just like… someone I know,” he murmured.

Flora laughed softly. “Are you saying I’m dangerous?”

“Only to anyone who tries to take your place,” he replied.

She blushed, looking away. “So… you’d go anywhere with me?”

He shook his head, his expression suddenly serious. “Not yet. My duties… I must complete half of them before I can leave anything behind.”

Her hand brushed his lightly. “Then tonight?”

Marcus nodded, eyes softening. “Tonight, when the moon rises high. We’ll dress as commoners. No one will know. Just you and me.”

Before he turned away, he leaned close and pressed a brief kiss to her cheek. It was fleeting, almost hidden by the garden’s stillness, yet it carried warmth that lingered long after he disappeared toward the palace gates.

Flora’s gaze returned to the crimson rose. “True love,” she murmured. “It means… unshakable. That’s us, Marcus. Even time itself couldn’t change it.”

After wandering the garden a little longer, she returned to her chambers, finishing the rest of her duties. Marcus had gone to inspect the mining site, leaving her with a shadow of worry. “I hope nothing happens there,” she muttered to herself.

The mines proved safe, and Marcus returned by late afternoon. By five o’clock, he was already preparing for their evening outing. “Tailor!” he called. “Make them commoner’s clothing. Quick.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the tailor replied, bowing deeply.

By five-thirty, the garments were delivered. Marcus emerged from the bath, wrapping a loose robe around his frame. He waited outside Flora’s chambers.

The door swung open, and Flora stumbled into him. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, cheeks burning red.

Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. “No harm done.” He stretched out his hand. “Ready to go?”

Flora smiled, accepting it. Their outfits matched perfectly—him in a French cap, blackish-brown trousers, and a light shirt; her frock in earthy tones layered softly. “We look… ordinary,” she said.

“Just as we should,” Marcus replied with a grin. “No one will know us tonight.”

They left the castle under the butler’s care and slipped into the bustling streets of the Veylarian Empire. The evening air carried the scents of bread, roasted meat, and lantern oil.

Inside a quiet café tucked away between streets, they ordered their meal and sat in a corner. The soft glow of lanterns cast gentle shadows, giving them a rare pocket of peace.

Hours later, as they returned, Flora faltered. “Marcus…” she whispered, color draining from her face. She bent forward, and the moment he realized she was unwell, he caught her in his arms.

“Flora!” he exclaimed. “Hold on, don’t—don’t let go.”

She trembled against him. “I… I don’t know what’s happening…”

Marcus ran as fast as he could, weaving through the palace gates. The guards, wide-eyed, barely held the doors as he entered, his arms tightly around her.

The maids rushed to their side. “Call Dr. Louis!” one shouted, fumbling for the telephone.

Marcus’ voice was tight with panic. “Quick! Make sure he comes immediately!”

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