Vivid | Lee Minho

•Scene 7•

Perhaps attempting to lift your spirits, he remarked while handing you a steaming cup of herbal tea, "My lady, have you seen the flowers that were sent by His Lordship this morning? They're beautiful."

"I have," you murmured, stealing a glance at the invaluable porcelain vase situated atop your tea table like a prize. Cheery sunflowers, shy peonies, and roses so plump seemed to swell through the mouth of the vase, soft yellows and pinks cascading down like a flowery waterfall. Smaller blossoms dotted the bouquet, white as miniature stars. "They are indeed lovely."

There was a different bouquet every day, as though Minho were apologizing to you again and again by sending them. A note would be stuck between the blossoms, embraced by their dewy petals, and scribed on it with the familiar elegance of his penmanship were a few words asking you to rest well.

You could not understand him. Surely it was easier to speak such wishes to you directly rather than write them in a letter?

"I heard that His Lordship spent a great deal of effort in picking them," Sycross shared, to which you hummed, watching the leaves that swam in your tea, "Is that so?"

What was he thinking? You did not want flowers if they meant his distance from you—

You halted.

What were you thinking? His silence should not be bothering you as such. In fact, you should not care in the least. After all, he was but a player in your game, a pawn in your plan. His usefulness to you would soon end, and you would no longer need him by your side.

That was merely the truth. It seemed that you had been forgetting it as of late.

You took a sip of your tea, letting the earthy drink fill your chest with its warmth when a chilling idea crossed your mind.

What if this was him rethinking his deal with you?

• • •

The young Lord's study was a reflection of his dedication to his duties. Shelves upon shelves of neatly lined books scaled one wall, the titles etched on their spines indicating topics such as history, politics, and law, among many others. A map of the kingdom and its neighbors was painted on the opposing wall, its details intricate and vast. The flag of Valorieve draped from a golden pole that was situated beside a large window that welcomed sunlight into the generous space.

There was an air of mystery to the place, as though it held secrets that could upturn the fate of the kingdom entirely.

You knew that it did.

Taking a seat on one of the couches situated before the desk, you inhaled deeply to steady the anxiety rampaging in your head. You had been to Minho's study many times before to discuss plans for the register or exchange information about the Crown Prince. Yet, you now felt as though you were committing a grave sin by being there alone.

But what choice did he leave you? The plan which you so carefully devised was at risk and you had staked everything upon him as its central figure. He could not be having second thoughts about your deal.

So, you decided that if Minho was not going to approach you himself, you were going to find him and plead with him instead.

The rare leather of the couch warmed from your body heat as you waited, repeatedly revising and rehearsing your speech in your head. You would set aside your dignity if you had to, hurl it away and bow your head to the ground if need be. Minho could not be allowed to renege on his promise to you.

After what felt like a lifetime of repeating the same words in your mind and imagining the hundred different scenarios that could unfold like a tragic play, a click finally sounded at the door and you snapped your head in its direction. Hope and dread formed an ugly twist in your heart.