The night went fast, smoother than Ana could have imagined. Early in the morning, a knock at her doorstep woke her up; it was a little girl who announced to her that it was time for breakfast. It felt to Ana that it was a little too early for that; she blamed that impression on the layering of her room, which she had to admit was similar to a prison cell. The room gave no such thing as a single ray of sunshine, which was usually what woke Ana up in the morning, so she really felt like sleeping a little more, but still did as told. The breakfast was brought to her doorstep, on a plate along with water to wash her face. The breakfast was very light: a single apple, a singular slice of bread with jam on the side. What kind of jam it was she couldn’t tell, but she liked the taste.

  After having her breakfast, arranging her bed, and washing her face, she exited the room as suggested by the young tender who left the breakfast for her. Standing there in the corridor outside the door to her room was the girl Lydia.

  "Hey," Ana greeted, trying to avoid an awkward staredown, as their doors were literally across from each other.

  "Hey," the girl greeted back with an expression that reminded Ana immediately of the circumstance of their first encounter.

  With messy hair and a sleepy but somehow aggressive expression, as if seeking the first excuse to pounce onto someone, she stood there staring at Ana, giving rise to a very awkward ambiance, one that Ana thought about to break by asking, "Slept well?" when the door next to Ana opened, and out of it a scrunched silhouette emerged.

  If “sleepy-looking” was to be used to describe Lydia, then to describe the person emerging from the adjacent door would be something beyond. She was a mess, from her long messy hair to her sprinkled clothes. Like Ana and Lydia, she was dressed in a simple sleeveless but long dress, a dress brought over by the tender who woke Ana up. A problematic outfit for Ana, which is why she paired it with the cardigan she had brought the day before, which she of course donned with a pair of gloves.

  "Awww," the girl yawned unceremoniously before noticing the two of them. The moment she did, it was as if drowsiness was instantly unconjured by the sight of them. "Oh, Lydia! Ana?s!" she waved, rushing at them. "Good mornin’!"

  Following the hours they met, Ana came to establish one thing: Charmy, the girl, was a friendly and very clingy person. Lydia, not so much, as she immediately blocked the girl who came for a hug.

  "Sooooo mean!" she pouted, immediately throwing herself at Ana, who, while not exactly welcoming, missed the opportunity to be as dismissive as Lydia.

  "Ana?s! My bestie!"

  "Bestie?"

  "Did you sleep well last night? I slept so well, I dreamed of you." Overwhelmed by how clingy the girl was as she tried to get away from her, Ana couldn’t help but remember the detail of how the girl was much younger than she was. So she couldn’t help but sigh.

  "I also dreamed of you, Lydia."

  "Hm," the other girl sneered.

  "You too became a proper Flower like Ana?s and I, ."

  "Is that so."

  "What about you two? Did you two have a dream too?"

  Instead of answering that question, to which Ana only had a dry answer, she took a step back and reached onto the necklace the girl wore.

  "It’s cute," she praised.

  The necklace in question was made of colorful, cute seashells.

  "You think?" the girl beamed. "I can’t sleep without it—ah, it wards away bad dreams."

  "Oh, it does?"

  "Yes, back in the vi—" the girl began, only to be interrupted by the sight of two people approaching. One was familiar, the other not so much.

  One was a girl, one of the tenders. It was a little girl, hardly over ten. She’d been the one bringing meals to their respective rooms: dinner the night before and breakfast earlier. The other person was much older, older in fact than Ana. Most likely in her early twenties. The girl was dressed in a dress with a floral pattern, suggesting clearly what sort of rank she had in this organisation, because as unassuming as the dress was, it was a uniform of sorts for the Flower in front of them.

  Accompanied by the little tender, the girl stopped a few meters away from the three of them, saying no words, just staring, sizing the trio up and down, and much to Ana’s discomfort, stopping at her way too long.

  "Hello," began the most sociable of the trio, putting, much to Ana’s relief, an end to the girl’s ogling.

  "You three are the new girls, right?"

  "Yes, Ma’am," the trio nodded.

  At their words of confirmation, the girl said nothing. Instead, she just stared at Charmy, then pointed at her, or to be exact, at her necklace.

  "That," she said, "it’s forbidden. Newbies have no right to wear ornaments."

  "Oh, sorry," Charmy scurried, fixing what she had pointed out.

  "There's a dress code to follow. You can only wear what was allocated to you," she added, staring this time at Ana's gloves and the cardigan she wore over her sleeveless dress.

  Ana chose to ignore the words that were obviously directed at her. Perhaps it was the fact that Ana chose to ignore her, or the fact that Charmy came back after storing her necklace in her room, the girl asked, "You're done eating?"

  It was a simple question, but there was something in the tone that Ana didn't like. A glance to the girl to her right revealed to her that she wasn't alone in feeling that.

  "Yes, Ma’am," the trio responded, as the girl's tone expected them to.

  "Then follow me," she declared, turning heel to head where she came from, leaving the girl behind. "Madam Datura and Madam Violet are waiting for you."

  "Yes, Ma’am," the trio nodded, which caused the girl to turn with a frown.

  "And it's Miss, not Ma’am. I'm not that old."

  "Yes, Mm—Miss."

  The place the trio were brought to was yet in the same section of the Garden as the one they slept in. Having spent over 24 hours in the establishment, Ana had to admit that she'd yet to see much of the Florabelle, and that extended to it as a location. The establishment being a literal castle, she'd only seen a corner of it, the one they were introduced to the day before, which was the tenders' section. She hadn't seen any of the quarters where the establishment gets its reputation from.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  So when they were told that they were going to be brought somewhere, Ana thought she was going to see that place. But no, she was brought to a daunt room where two people were already waiting. Once again it was a familiar face and another unfamiliar one. The former was Madam Datura, the other was a middle-aged woman dressed very similarly to Madam Datura but exuding a much different vibe. She was, with the smile with which she welcomed them into the room, to put it simply, motherly.

  "We've met already yesterday," began Madam Datura, "I'm Madam Datura, in case you've forgotten. Today I'm introducing you to Madam Violet."

  The Madam in question stepped forward, introducing herself. "Hello, I am Violet. I'm like Madam Datura over here—a Thorn."

  Just like it had been explained to her by her brother, it was explained to them the day before: the Florabelle has many permanent residents. Among them are Petals, Blooms, Vines, Thorns, Gardeners, and Tenders.

  Petals obviously referred to girls like Ana and the two other girls. They are residents aspiring to become Flowers, which are a sort of product for the Florabelle as an organisation. Among these Flowers there are also Blooms and Vines. Thorns, Gardeners, and Tenders are the poeple whose purpose is to tend to the needs of the Flowers, be it by providing them security, care, and various other services.

  "As a Thorn, I am in charge of various things, among which is the well being of our Flowers, and that includes Petals like you, who are aspirant Flowers," Madam Violet explained.

  "Not sure if they count as Petals already," commented the Miss who earlier didn't want to be referred to as Ma’am. The unprompted comment caused all the attention in the room to go to her, to which she quickly explained, "Weren't you the one who said that no one becomes a Petal without going through you first?"

  "Well," Madam Violet chuckled, "I did say that. but since they met with Lady Acacia already, let's just that they've jumped that step." Turning toward the trio, she added, inviting them to take a seat.

  As they did, on a sofa in the corner of the room, she sat at a corner and pulled a notebook. "As I said, I already consider you three Petals... but as I said again, that's usually my call. When I do, I follow a certain protocol, one that I intend to uphold here."

  That much was expected, Ana thought. In fact, she found it strange that she was so smoothly mistaken for an aspirant Flower. The Florabelle is an establishment that provides services seen as "luxurious," something that only the elite highbreed population can afford, so it really bugged Ana how she was just able to pass for a Petal.

  Where are the background checks? Why are you all so welcoming? You even gave me a bed without a single question asked about my past.

  For someone who belonged to an organisation such as the Inquisitorum Regiae, it just didn't sit right how she was able to just waltz in and join this organisation. Even in the Wardenpost Guild you'd have a much harder time joining in. Even for an apprenticeship, which is common in that field, it's mostly all about referral. So while seeing that they have some sort of protocol going eased that uneasy part of Ana's heart, she realized that this put her in a complicated situation, one where she might be found out. But as the protocol was upheld, questions asked, she found herself being more and more at ease for some reason, well, two reasons that she could name. One: she wasn't alone going through that protocol. And second: the questions weren't all that challenging. It began with names, where they were from, how old they were, what talents they had, what they liked, which of the three angelic deities they were worshipping, who they got their looks from.

  This last question was mainly directed toward Lydia, as the girl really had this subtle but distinct elven look that she shared with Charmy. But in the latter case, the origin of that elven look was obvious the moment she mentioned her region of origin, in the other girl, not so much. Madam Violet was trying to pin the exact origin of it without mentioning it, but that the girl seemed clueless of. Anyway, Ana was being the last to be questioned, following the order they were seated, which also put her at ease, or at the very least, less uncomfortable, when was asked the most uncomfortable of questions, despite how expected they were somehow.

  "At what time of the month do you bleed?" was one such question.

  Considering the nature of what they were aspiring to be, in Ana's particular case, what she was pretending to be aspiring to be, she understood and in fact expected that question to be at least asked, so after the two girls she answered, truthfully.

  "Have you ever had a lover?" was yet another such question.

  "No," responded Lydia. Same as Ana. Only one responded "yes."

  The answer prompted Madam Violet to ask, "Who is it?" To which the girl nonchalantly, or perhaps just naively, answered that it was a childhood friend of hers. A sweet story from the sound of it, Ana naively thought.

  "Have you ever done "it" with someone," was yet another indiscreet but somewhat expected question. It was a question to which both Lydia and Ana shook their heads, but to which Charmy nodded.

  "With whom?" Madam Violet asked the girl, to which the very innocent-looking tanned girl once again gave an answer that earned a frown from the two maidens. "A young adventurer whose tales of adventure she fell in love with, who took her from Miriandelle into an adventure, promising to marry her, only to one day disappear, leaving her in an unfamiliar city."

  At some point Ana during this questionnaire just forgot her concern. Her concern instead was for this girl sitting beside her, and clearly she wasn't alone in that sentiment. Most of Madam Violet's attention was directed toward her. And once Charmy was done with her story, Madam Violet asked questions that Ana believed she flawlessly answered with a properly made-up story, such as how she heard about the Floravelle recruiting new members. She built her story by mixing in truth and lies, but not just any kind of lies, ones that took great inspiration from Lydia and Charmy. After answering some more of these questions, Madam Violet had them stand up in the corner for measurements. Something that Ana, after having breathed a silent sigh of relief, realized she had claimed respite way too soon, as in front of her was clearly her biggest hurdle yet.

  Staring at her cardigan, "It's in the way of me measuring your chest, take it off," she ordered Ana.

  Hesitant to do so, Ana retorted, "I'm cold. Can't you just measure me with it?"

  "No," the girl, whose presence throughout this whole process she'd forgotten and forgiven for the haughtiness, but in that moment Ana really felt annoyed.

  "So you're gonna take it off or—"

  "A problem?" Madam Violet, sitting at her desk ready to take notes in her textbook, asked.

  Not giving the girl the opportunity to place a single word, Ana cut, "No, Ma'am. I was just told that my clothes were in the way." Ana then proceeded to begrudgingly remove her cardigan, revealing what she'd been hiding under it. Having reached that point, seeing no point in being further furtive about it, upon removing her cardigan, she also took off her gloves, revealing what the mark on her sleeve already hinted at.

  There was an obvious pause at the sight of the burn marks on Ana's body, something that always never failed to make Ana uncomfortable. So, "I'm cold, so please make it fast," she urged the agape girl before her, who in her bewilderment, or perhaps discomfort, proceeded to do exactly that.

  Once done with all the measurements, upper body, torso, hips, and lower body, Ana retrieved her cardigan and gloves, but before donning them, she walked up to Madam Violet, explaining, "I didn't mean to hide it, I just didn't get the opportunity to show it."

  Ana looked at her hands, an empty expression on her face. Scars, burn marks, had made her hands a deeply unsightly sight. Ana was very much aware that there were much uglier sights to behold, so the sight of it didn't bug her out; it was always something else that did.

  She looked at them, at the expression they all bore, or at least most of them. There was one who bore a very different expression than Madam Violet, Charmy, and Madam Datura: it was the girl, Lydia. There was an expression to her. It wasn't pity, it wasn't repulsion like Ana was used to seeing from people when she revealed those hands. It was just nothing. Absolute indifference. And not a derisive kind, just one that seemed like there was simply nothing worth noting.

  "I must have surprised you all with these. I got these in an accident when I was little."

  "I see," nodded Madam Violet.

  "They won't stand in the way of me becoming a Flower, right?" she asked Madam Violet, as she donned back her red gloves.

  "It's alright," she compassionately nodded, "It shouldn't be." Despite these words of assurance, Ana somehow still harbored doubts, especially when she glanced at Madam Datura, who's been thoroughly silent, but whose expression was so telling.

  Ana sneered internally.

  Noticing Ana's completely unconvinced expression, Madam Violet added, in reassurance, "You might not know, but we here at the Floravelle have our own very skilled private doctor, so they might be able to undo these."

  With a bitter chuckle that Ana repressed, she nodded.

  "Just make sure to mention them when you meet."