Eldest Daughter Syndrome

"The library... oh! Yes! Why didn't I think of that sooner?" For how much he had read in his childhood, it had not been the first thought that had jumped to his mind when he tried to figure out how to solve the riddle of why this flower wasn't growing. He smiles back at Flora - glad to see her smile at all - and stands, grabbing her hand to help pull her up as well.

"That's a wonderful idea! I'm sure there will be at least some answers there! Come on, let's go!" He darts out of the greenhouse, in the direction of the library up the hill, pulling Flora along with him.

Ingrid would be lying if she said it hadn’t put her in a foul mood. But she had to keep herself in check, could not complain at length the way she wanted to. Knights did not complain about such things, even if what culinary delights the dining hall had in store for her was the highlight of each of her days.

She would just have to visit some of the bakeries and shops in the nearby town to indulge in a delicious meal.

Until those shops closed down temporarily, too, funneling their resources to the monastery to help.

She could not even steal away into the kitchens to try and make any snacks for herself, not with hobbyist cooking banned for the foreseeable future.

She supposed she could find ingredients in her own time, but she had no idea where to start, or what to look for. She loved to eat, but she was still learning to cook.

Ingrid sighed, staring down at the murky broth of the soup the dining hall had served that evening. What she wouldn’t have given for a hearty stew, with potatoes and vegetables and fish and beef. Perhaps some cheese sprinkled along the top, slowly melting into the broth.

She surveyed the dining hall, eyes falling on her fellow students. Their expressions spoke volumes, mirroring her own discontent. Some seemed bored, but others were wrinkled in annoyance, and others spoke of hunger pains making their bellies ache.

Her eyes fell on another student then, hair the soft blue of a blizzard.

“Flora!” Ingrid called, gesturing to the empty seat across from her. “Come sit with me! I need your opinion on the food they’ve been serving!”

Flora hears her name called by a classmate and she wracks her brain for half a second to figure out the name of the one calling her. She smiles back and approaches Ingrid, taking an open seat across from her. She leans on the table on her arms to peer into the blonde’s bowl. It’s a soup, but a sorry excuse for one. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Queen Lianna. I will be sure to attend one of your lectures someday soon! I’m sure I will learn valuable skills from you.” Flora makes a mental note to keep the name in mind so that she can adjust her schedule when she has a free class session available. So far, she has used it to have tea and get used to the campus, but perhaps it is time for her to apply herself more as a student. It is, after all, what she came to the school to do: learn. She also makes a note to look up where Aytolis is at the library. 

"I look forward to teaching you," she replied with a smile. Introductions complete and the promise of a new student in her lessons, Lianna let her attention turn back to the sword. So, Flora didn't feel like she could pull out the sword if stronger students were unable to do so? Proof of a scam or was the rumour about this sword in a way true? ........

"According to what I've heard about the sword, it's not a question of capability or strength," she hummed, bringing her hand to her chin. "The tale I've heard around is that this "sword of selection" is looking for a worthy wielder to pull it from the stone and will accept no other. That would make it a magic sword then; if it is the truth that is."

please specify if sender or receiver is doing the action, when sending in the prompt !

“Oh, the Lady in Mourning…” Flora’s expression falls slightly as she recalls the tale she had just heard. “Well, I have only really overheard, but the story of this flower—” She gestures to the unbloomed flower in question. “Is a tragic tale. It is named after a woman who turned into a beast after her lover killed her, and then she killed him as a beast in her grief.” Flora sighs dejectedly as she recounts the origin story to Corrin. “So, the flower got its name from the story. The plant is supposed to bloom every two hundred years, but for some reason…” She approaches the potted plant that is on the fringes of wilting, and she aches to reach out and touch the delicate petals, as though to offer some kind of encouragement or support for the plant. Maybe it is her namesake—Flora—that calls for her to feel for the flower. 

He follows his former maid's eyes towards the flower, pointed ears listening intently as she recounts the tale behind it. He's not ashamed that tears prick at the corners of his eyes, upon hearing of a woman turned beast. If he had not been stopped then... would he too have killed those that he held dear and ended up like the woman in this story? A lord-in-waiting for someone who would never return?

It moves his heart, but he has always been someone easily swayed by emotions, brought to tears by even the simplest of stories. There was no shame behind it, behind all of the emotions that constantly bubbled in his chest. Surely, there could not be a bad one, so long as he was feeling something.

He's feeling good about this. Of course he might trip and fall on his face. Anything could happen. But he's feeling good.

She also seems friendly. He's kind of a reserved guy and she seems a little awkward too but he doesn't mind that at all. Never one to judge someone based on superficial stuff like that. Actions are more important anyway.

He shakes her free hand with his own. It's a funny angle to be at. "Flora. It's nice to meet you."

He's never heard of Nohr. He's never heard of a lot of places though.

Flora greatly prefers the professional dress code she adheres to while working for Leo to the uncomfortable uniform the country club forces their employees into. Instead of a simple blouse and skirt or slacks she normally dons, she is forced to wear an uncomfortable, white polo shirt with the country club’s logo on it and white slacks. She prefers to wear darker colors, oftentimes simply opting for a monochromatic wardrobe of greys and black with the occasional accent of white. To be wearing all white… well, she feels a bit ridiculous. It’s a fashion faux pas, in her eyes. 

A drawn-out sigh escapes her as she enters the lobby of the country club from outside, awaiting the next rich vacationer to demand her assistance. The automatic doors slide open and Flora looks over, grey-irised eyes widening at the sight of her normal charge family entering the building. Her gaze immediately moves past Garon—a ruthless businessman, that one—and follows Leo as he makes a beeline for one of the couches in the lobby area. She chuckles softly at his antisocial nature, but clears her throat and moves to stand in front of the desk where the rest of the family lingers. 

Placing his thumb between the pages, he lets his book fall closed, standing when she speaks. Leo re-shoulders his backpack and gives her a nod. "Thank you, Flora. Always a pleasure to see you as well." He lets her type away without interruption, confident he's in good hands.

Only when she looks up does he speak again. "What do you think of the new decor? Quite the upgrade." He shifts his weight, book falling back into her line of sight. A black fabric cover obscures any identifying marks. His family assumes he uses such covers as a way to preserve the integrity of his hardcovers; while true, it also allows him to read his botany books in peace.

"Another one for school," he answers her silent question, removing his thumb and moving it behind his back. It's technically not a lie--his family also doesn't know he enrolled in one plant science class for the upcoming semester. Father merely signs the checks, for what reason would he have to believe that Leo wasn't following his degree path to the letter?

He glances at the other staff members. "New employees for the season?" They stiffen under his scrutiny, one girl immediately hovering her hands over her keyboard in an attempt to look busy. "I trust you'll whip them into shape soon enough." His voices lowers at this last, a hint of amusement threading through the words. Part of the reason he hired Flora as his assistant was her impeccable worth ethic.

When Leo mentions that the book is for school, answering the question she did not give voice to, she smiles knowingly. If he is enraptured by the content within those pages, surely it is a book that has to do with his secretive passion for flora and fauna and the science behind both. She feels a bit privileged to be in on the secret, and she always makes sure to value the trust Leo has put in her. 

At the mention of the new employees, Flora chuckles and nods her head. “I have already given them the proper training in anticipation of your family’s arrival.” She leans forward a bit, lowering her voice to a more private volume and bringing her hand to the side of her mouth to hide her lips should anyone try to read them from the side. “Especially concerning your father.” She offers a reassuring smile as best she can without cracking into a grin. Keeping her voice low, she continues. “By the way, there's been some new landscaping around the entire property. In particular, there's a new indoor garden I will be happy to point you to. A nice place to enjoy a cup of tea while you study hard, of course.”

Summer remains his least favorite season.

Everything is too bright, too warm, too intense. The muted tones of winter and fall suit him far better--even the early days of spring are quite pleasant. Until heat begins dogging spring's heels, the scent of freshly bloomed flowers slowly becoming replaced with that of newly cut grass and citrus.

The changing scents also herald a time honored tradition in his family: summering in Cyrkensia.

Leo doesn't flinch against the blast of cold air as he walks through the automatic doors. It sends his bangs ruffling, but he ignores the sensation, opting to instead take in the front lobby from behind his sunglasses.

Ministralis Country Club has remodeled in the last year, replacing old worn out couches with new, sleek leather designs. The art on the walls has changed as well. Professional photographs of the nearby beach, he thinks, squinting at the nearest one. A much needed upgrade, in his opinion. Their decor has changed little over the many years, most of the now-departed items dating back to his childhood.

Perhaps the polo grounds received an upgrade this year as well. Leo almost turns over his shoulder, a reminder on the tip of his tongue, before remembering his personal assistant has agreed to work at this very club for the summer. Yet another reason to resent it, he thinks bitterly.

Leo trails behind his family, nodding at the new reception desk team when he passes, noting their faces for future reference. He checks his watch. Another hour until they can settle into their suites--check-in times don't budge for any man, no matter their tax bracket.

Flora greatly prefers the professional dress code she adheres to while working for Leo to the uncomfortable uniform the country club forces their employees into. Instead of a simple blouse and skirt or slacks she normally dons, she is forced to wear an uncomfortable, white polo shirt with the country club’s logo on it and white slacks. She prefers to wear darker colors, oftentimes simply opting for a monochromatic wardrobe of greys and black with the occasional accent of white. To be wearing all white… well, she feels a bit ridiculous. It’s a fashion faux pas, in her eyes. 

A drawn-out sigh escapes her as she enters the lobby of the country club from outside, awaiting the next rich vacationer to demand her assistance. The automatic doors slide open and Flora looks over, grey-irised eyes widening at the sight of her normal charge family entering the building. Her gaze immediately moves past Garon—a ruthless businessman, that one—and follows Leo as he makes a beeline for one of the couches in the lobby area. She chuckles softly at his antisocial nature, but clears her throat and moves to stand in front of the desk where the rest of the family lingers. 

Now this honestly seemed like a fun activity. Ike had never done anything like this before but he could certainly grasp not just the concept but why it would be so challenging. Having to coordinate with someone on such a level would make it interesting. More interesting still, they seemed to be assigning partners at random.

Good for endurance training, he assumed. And making it unconventional could make it more appealing to students who would otherwise shirk endurance training.

The woman Ike was paired up with seemed capable enough. Focused. This would be fun. The hardest part of this would likely be the disparity in their heights but even that probably wouldn't be too bad. He was good at sizing people up and she definitely seemed a competent, if a little uncertain in her bearing.

He offered her a friendly smile to try and maybe lessen that feeling. "So, do you think we can win this?"

What would matter more was fun he figured but to try to win was in his nature.

As luck would have it, Flora arrives at Garreg Mach and immediately finds something to occupy herself: keeping a dying plant from perishing. Upon hearing that there is a greenhouse on campus, Flora decides to take a look inside. Back home in the Ice Tribe—and Nohr in general—plant life is rather hard to come by. The greenhouse is bustling with students more familiar with the chores required and Flora keeps to the side out of the way of their paths. Instead, she eavesdrops as she gazes upon the existing plant life blooming from the soil-filled planters.

The plant that demands everyone’s attention—the Lady-in-Mourning—is supposed to be in bloom. The plant is named after a tragic folk tale of a woman-turned-beast fueled by grief and heartbreak and her lover who slain her, and she to him in return, the pair tied together by their mutual deaths. Every two hundred years, the flower blooms in their memory, but this year the flower’s delicate petals are falling frail and wilting before they can achieve true beauty in bloom. The entirety of the tale has Flora bringing a handkerchief to her eye and wiping away the tears that threaten to fall as she hears the story from the frantic greenhouse occupants.

It wasn't often that Kamui wished that he was still able to be woken up by his twin maids, but it certainly was needed sometimes.

And speak of the ice queen and she should perhaps appear. Or something like that. Because he certainly finds himself staring down the ocean haired one of the duo, flashing her a bright smile.

“Oh, the Lady in Mourning…” Flora’s expression falls slightly as she recalls the tale she had just heard. “Well, I have only really overheard, but the story of this flower—” She gestures to the unbloomed flower in question. “Is a tragic tale. It is named after a woman who turned into a beast after her lover killed her, and then she killed him as a beast in her grief.” Flora sighs dejectedly as she recounts the origin story to Corrin. “So, the flower got its name from the story. The plant is supposed to bloom every two hundred years, but for some reason…” She approaches the potted plant that is on the fringes of wilting, and she aches to reach out and touch the delicate petals, as though to offer some kind of encouragement or support for the plant. Maybe it is her namesake—Flora—that calls for her to feel for the flower. 

Flora startles slightly when someone speaks to her, and she quickly whips her head to look at the woman who approaches her. Her cheeks tint pink with embarrassment at the very thought of making her own attempt at pulling the sword out of its home in stone.

"My name is Lianna, Queen of Aytolis," she hummed. "Though here in Fodlán, I am simply a visiting instructor. Perhaps you might come to one of my lessons some time."

She glanced back at the sword in the stone with a tiny frown. Even if Flora wasn't here to try pulling the sword, there were still plenty of others who were trying, clearly finding some truth, or at least, belief, in the story that had spread around. She wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Queen Lianna. I will be sure to attend one of your lectures someday soon! I’m sure I will learn valuable skills from you.” Flora makes a mental note to keep the name in mind so that she can adjust her schedule when she has a free class session available. So far, she has used it to have tea and get used to the campus, but perhaps it is time for her to apply herself more as a student. It is, after all, what she came to the school to do: learn. She also makes a note to look up where Aytolis is at the library. 

In the lonesome hours of the night, Flora takes walks. She much prefers the quiet when everyone else has gone to bed to rest their weary heads for the coming day of study and work. When the clock chimes the midnight hour, that is when Flora is comfortable enough to be out and about, as there are fewer around to ask her for something. As a maid, she lived to serve her lieges. Now as the next Chief, she finds herself at a loss of how to ask others for anything, let alone help.

In her short stay thus far at the Academy, Flora at least has the diligence to know who the professors are. She tucks the reminder that her sister and Jakob are both professors into the back of her mind to wallow about later. For now, she wracks her brain and recalls the name of this particular professor she spots in the courtyard where she often likes to sit and drink tea. With a tea tray in hand, she approaches the looming, larger man.

"Professor Líf," she greets politely in a quiet voice so as not to disturb the peace of the night. "You're up late. Care for some tea?" She waits, hesitates, and does not sit down yet. She will not without invitation to do so, too trained to stay on her feet and dote on others before allowing herself the chance to do something for herself, for once.