#oftheflcwers

Camilla preferred avoiding the masses ever since she’d ceded the crown. Many would condemn her for giving up her royal right out of cowardice. And they were right. Taking the mantle worn by her deceased father, whilst knowing it had been meant for her late brother, was a pain too heavy to bear. Her only option was passing the burden onto Leo. 

Thoughts swam in her head absentmindedly, as though to ward off her melancholy. She tried to muster happier notions. However, her feet soon carried her to face the guilt. Xander’s grave loomed before her, wreathed in flowers from loved ones, and its sacred ground soaked in their selfsame tears. Her tears had watered that earth. They threatened to do so again.

Then, she saw it. Sweet, graceful steps of a dance---talent uncanny. She could hardly believe Laslow was so fleet of foot. She would’ve congratulated him. But hadn’t found the nerve to. Instead, she waits for the dance to end, and lets forth a soft little sob.

“I hadn’t known you’d that much talent.”

"Great! I keep meaning to ask someone about Nohr,” Jerry laughs, resuming his walk to the smithy and careful to keep pace with Laslow.

“Sir Laslow… nice to meet you,” Jerry replies with his same smile, if a touch embarrassed. Mixing up the High Prince of Nohr’s retainer with a mercenary could’ve ended bad. As the man went on talking, however, Jerry felt his own worries slide away.