Two additional days went by since Ana's venture to the flowers' floor. The trio, comprising Ana, Lydie, and Charmy, were now standing in the corridor right outside their room.

  “Stop!” Charmy begged.

  “It’s ready. Let me do it. It has been bothering me for days,” Lydia insisted.

  “No.”

  “Let me pop it.”

  “Noooo!” Charmy squeaked and darted behind Ana, clutching her arm like a lifeline. She covered the right side of her face as if Lydia were aiming a weapon at it. “It is not ready. You are going to leave a scar!”

  “It has been ready since yesterday,” Lydia said flatly. “Just let me pop that pimple already.”

  Her stare was so intense Ana half expected her to shove her aside and grab Charmy. Instead, Lydia clicked her tongue and forced her expression back into its usual cold mask.

  “Lydia…” Charmy whispered from behind Ana, peeking out with one eye.

  Lydia pretended not to hear.

  “Give me two days. No, wait, one day. Just one day,” Charmy bargained.

  Lydia did not react at first, but the slight twitch of her eyebrow told Ana the girl was thinking about it. Encouraged, Charmy slipped out from behind Ana and tiptoed toward her.

  “Tomorrow. You can pop it tomorrow. Come on, Lydi—”

  Before she could finish, Lydia’s hand shot out and grabbed her collar, pulling her forward with surprising gentleness but unmistakable firmness.

  “Give me one good reason I should not pop it right here, right now.”

  "Hiiiii."

  Along with footsteps, a gentle voice asked, "What are you two doing?" It was Charmy’s saving grace, arriving in the form of a gorgeous young woman.

  "Uta, help," Charmy begged, freeing herself from Lydia’s grasp and throwing herself at Uta.

  "What’s happening?" she asked, confused.

  "She wants to burst my pimple, she’s been obsessed with it since yesterday."

  "Tch, whatever. Do what you want. I don’t care about your pimple anyway," Lydie declared childishly, a strange contrast with the cold countenance she promptly assumed.

  "I’m not really sure what’s happening here," Uta chuckled. "But I assume it’s settled now. Have you had breakfast already?"

  The trio nodded.

  "That’s great. A long day is waiting for you three, you’re going to need that energy."

  "Oh, what are we going to do today? Table manners like yesterday?"

  Ana had now spent over a week infiltrating the Rose Blanche. This was her eighth day living as a fake Petal. After the fifth day, when she and the others were given the thankless task of washing sheets, she finally had her first real chance to do what she had come here for: investigate.

  Once that day passed, a proper training regimen was put in place for the Petals, one that was meant to shape them into future Flowers. The sixth day centered on Etiquette and Courtly Behavior. The seventh continued the same subject while adding instruction in the art of conversation.

  Uta oversaw all of it. She supervised again on the ninth day as well, which once more focused on etiquette, this time with a heavy emphasis on the correct use of cutlery.

  At Charmy’s question, Uta shook her head. "Not today," she announced as a young handler approached to take care of Ana and the others’ plates. "We’re going to do something different today."

  "Oh."

  "Reassure me, Uta...you’re the one who’s going to be in charge, right? Not Laura, right?"

  "Yes. Truth is, from here on out, I’ll be the one in charge of you guys."

  "Really?!"

  "...Yeah. Laura relinquished the task to me, so from here on out it’ll be only me."

  "Yay!" The girl rejoiced without restraint.

  "Yay? Wait, was there a problem with Laura?"

  At that question, the trio, who had been all smiles, averted their gazes.

  "Something must have happened," Uta frowned. "Otherwise, she wouldn’t have so suddenly relinquished that duty."

  "She was just..." Charmy hesitated.

  A voice finished the sentence for her. It was Lydia. "Constantly annoyed."

  "Yes, Lydia is right. She looked like she was always annoyed watching over us."

  "She must have just grown bored of the task," Ana added, jumping on the wagon, "and gave it up."

  "I see," Uta mused. "But still, it’s strange, especially with how eager she was to take over. It’s so sudden."

  "Isn’t this alright?" Charmy declared, clingy as ever as she hugged Uta from behind. "Don’t you like supervising us?"

  "I do."

  "Then it’s perfect. We all prefer being supervised by you, right, girls?"

  The trio nodded. Uta was an undeniable upgrade to Laura in many aspects, making Ana super proud of herself for having added one last-minute parameter to Laura.

  "Well, I guess you make a point."

  "Enough speaking about the past. Where are we going now, Uta? I’ve never been to this corner," Charmy said.

  Ana knew this corner of the castle. A couple of days before, she had taken this very corridor to reach the spiraling staircase.

  "The upper floor."

  "The upper floor, where the Flowers are?" Charmy beamed.

  "Yes. You’ve never been there yet?"

  Charmy shook her head. "Lydia and Ana?s have. They even met several Flowers they said."

  "I see. Then I should introduce you to them soon. But not today, today we’re there for another reason."

  "Another reason."

  "Yes. You three will meet an important member of the Floravelle, the one responsible for the health of the Flowers in this establishment."

  Ana’s heart skipped a beat. A cold, heavy feeling settled in her stomach, and she immediately sensed something was about to go south. The moment Uta led them into the room, she understood why. This part of the upper floor was different from where they had been before, a more dignified wing that reminded her of a luxurious hotel suite. And there in one such suite, among the three people already waiting, she spotted a head of thick blond curls she knew all too well.

  She was not the only one who noticed. He recognized her almost instantly. With a certain expectation in mind, she tried not to meet his eyes, yet their gaze eventually crossed. When she finally looked at the face she had prayed not to see, standing beside a man seated in an armchair facing Madam Violet, what she found startled her. There was incredulity, yes, but none of the shock she had anticipated. None of the wide-eyed disbelief she would not have blamed him for.

  "Girls," Madam Violet said. "Pay your respect to the Floravelle Benefactor: Lord Severo, Healer and Thaumaturge, and his disciple, Master Charles."

  Acting as they had been taught during their lectures on etiquette, the trio paid their respects to the noble and healer before them.

  "I see that Uta’s teachings are already bearing fruit," Madam Violet said with a pleased smile.

  "Thanks, Madam."

  "Now then, Lord Severo, these are our young Flowers: Chamia, Ana?s, Lydia."

  "Please, girls," the man said with a gentle smile. "Raise your heads. That was a very reverent greeting, but save that for actual nobles. I might be one, but I am here in another capacity, that of a physician."

  "Lord Severo has the benevolence to provide the Floravelle and its Flowers with his services as a high-ranking healer and miracle-invoker," Madam Violet explained.

  The man, tall and in his mid-forties, nodded at the introduction. "If our Flowers ever have a health-related issue of any sort—"

  "Be it something urgent or something you think is insignificant," he added playfully.

  "—He'll be there to bless us with his healing."

  "With enough luck, the one who will actually treat you will not be this old man, but one of my disciples, like this handsome young man." He laughed and patted his disciple's back.

  The disciple reddened. "Master, please."

  The sight made Ana smile. It was not the teasing that amused her, but the easy, relaxed nature of their master-disciple bond. At that moment, Ana’s gaze met the disciple’s. The contact was brief. The instant she sensed someone else watching her, she looked away, and he did the same.

  "Anyway," Lord Severo continued, "my point is that you do not have to be tense around me. Think of me the same way you would think of a regular healer at the Keysbrügr temple. With our introduction done, let us get to the purpose of my presence today."

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  With these words, Lord Severo stepped back and let Madam Violet continue.

  "Here at the Floravelle, we strive for the safety of our Flowers in all aspects, including health," she said. "Lord Severo is here today to examine you, to ensure that none of you carry any illness and to provide help if you do." She motioned toward an empty chair. "Lord Severo will hold individual consultations with each of you. Who wishes to go first?"

  The answer came instantly. Without hesitation, Ana and Lydia each grabbed one of Charmy’s shoulders and guided their cadet forward. They excused themselves before the girl could utter a single complaint.

  "You were quick to choose Charmy," Uta remarked with a soft chuckle as she followed them outside the room.

  "Well, if anyone needs the consultation, it is her," Ana thought. She kept that part to herself.

  "I noticed," Uta said, "you were staring at Master Charles earlier."

  "I was?"

  She nodded in confirmation, a move followed by Lydia.

  "That's... I was intrigued. That dis—healer looked very young."

  "Don't be fooled by his appearance. He might be young, but he's very reliable when it comes to being a healer."

  "Oh... he's really that reliable?"

  Noticing the look Ana gave her, Uta immediately explained, "It's not like that."

  "Like what?" Lydia asked.

  "You both know what I mean. Anyway, my point is that he's young but he's a little more considerate than his master or any of his fellow disciples, so feel free to approach instead of his master."

  "Hm. I see."

  "That's reassuring."

  Realizing that further defending wouldn't help her case, Uta just remained silent. A good dozen or so minutes went by like this till Charmy emerged from the room, announcing, "I'm done. Next."

  Ana and Lydia looked at each other. "After you," Ana offered.

  The girl seemed hesitant, but eventually, as Ana didn’t budge, caved in. A brief moment went by after the door closed before it opened again, a person exited the room and closed it behind him. It wasn't Lydia, it was the young disciple.

  "Oh, Master Charles."

  "Hi, Uta," he greeted. His eyes were no longer discreet. His gaze was practically glued to Ana.

  "Need something?" Uta asked.

  "No, I just needed some air."

  "That is understandable," she said. After a brief pause, she added, "Actually, there is something I would like to talk about, if it is not too much of a bother. If you are alright with it."

  "What is it?"

  "Well," she began, glancing at the curious duo. She then guided him aside to speak more privately.

  Ana saw her chance. She removed her right glove and immediately pulled Charmy aside, whispering a few quick instructions. The very moment Ana finished, Charmy rushed straight toward Uta and interrupted her conversation with Charles.

  "Uta, I need to go to the toilet."

  "Right now?"

  "Right now," Ana said, gently taking Uta’s hand and whispering as she looked into her eyes, "Please accompany her to the toilet."

  "Right," Uta nodded with a subservient look. She took the equally subservient Charmy with her.

  Once the two had disappeared, Henri spoke at once in a low, tense whisper. "I had a bad feeling. You never reached out after that time, and when I heard that a new girl named Ana?s was among the new Petals, I had an ominous feeling. What are you doing here?"

  "What does it look like I am doing? I am doing what I came to the capital for. It is I who should be asking you that. But I guess you have a reason to be here, as your master’s disciple. Did you not say it would be a while before your next visit to the Garden? Is this not a monthly thing? That is what you told me. And where are your fellow disciples? There are two others, right? How come neither of them came with you?"

  "That is..." he began, confirming it with a weak nod. "The thing is..." She watched him closely. As his older sister, she read the shift in his behavior instantly.

  "The thing is?"

  "Yes. Because there were new Flowers, or rather Petals, Master was summoned. I happened to be nearby, so he brought me along."

  "Hm. Why do I feel like there is more to the story?" She pointed her ungloved finger at his face. He leaned away to avoid it, fully aware of what her touch could reveal and how unhesitant she usually was about using that ability. She tried again. He dodged again.

  "Did you really have to come here, or did you in—"

  "That does not matter. What matters is what you are doing here, and," he leaned in, "why you are pretending to be a Petal."

  "This is the best way to investigate what I came here to investigate," she said. She chose not to mention the disastrous misunderstanding that had led to her being accepted as a Petal in the first place. "It is a far better alternative than dishonoring myself by requesting private sessions as a patron to question all the Flowers of this establishment. Right?"

  Henri grimaced. Ana recognized the expression instantly. She had seen it throughout his childhood.

  "This is fine, I promise. I was taken in as a Petal, just a Petal, not a Flower. Nothing concerning has happened to me. I am fed, sheltered, and even taught manners fit for a noble lady. Me, of all people. So trust me. There is nothing for you to worry about. Big sis is fine."

  He sighed and looked at her with an expression that made her prepare to argue more firmly. But his next words caught her completely off guard.

  "Fine."

  "Really?"

  "What?"

  "I was expecting more resistance."

  "Huh, and tell me, would that 'more resistance' you talk about change your mind?"

  She shook her head. "No."

  "Voilà."

  "Woah, that's new," she chuckled, reaching out to pat his shoulder with her right hand. "I guess that's a welcomed change."

  "I won't object to it, but I want to help."

  "No," Ana was categorical.

  "Surely there's something that I can do, I'm getting al—"

  "No. This is my mission. There is nothing I need your help with."

  "But—"

  "I said no. There's just one thing I expect of you: it is to not get in my way, or else," she warned.

  "Or else?"

  "I'm going to make you—"

  At these words of warning, she reached out to his face, caressing his youthful face, facing the destiny of all teenage acne, nothing like the chubby face of that little boy he was back then, always recoiling as she reached out to him. Today, he held firm, not bulging an inch.

  "No. You're not."

  "What makes you think so?" Ana asked. "I used this ability on my mom, on your mom, on our dad, on so many people. What makes you think I won't use it to make you do what I want?"

  "Because you promised," he reminded, grabbing her hand. "I know that as a lawyer you are incapable of breaking that vow, that contract you made that day."

  "What do you know about lawyers?" Ana smiled wryly. “Funding your education at the Aetherneum was a mistake. Being surrounded by arrogant smartasses clearly went to your head.” She tugged her glove back on. “So I’ll use a language you’re guaranteed to understand: violence.”

  The moment the glove settled, she struck him sharply in the side, folding the young man over with a pained gasp.

  "Ouch!"

  "You didn't expect that, did you? That's right, that's because you're weaker than me. So unless you want me to bully you into submission, just submit," she teasingly warned, before adding with a much more serious tone, "So don't interfere with my mission."

  Ana looked at her brother, sensing the last barrier she needed to break. “If something comes up, and I doubt it will, but if it does, I’ll come to you for help.” Her voice softened. “For now, I just need you to be who you always are.”

  “Alright, I get it. From here on out, just as you’re not Anette the secretary, but Ana?s the petal, I’ll be nothing more than the healer Charles.”

  "Ah, yes, Charles, the very popular healer," she teased, poking his side.

  "Popular? Where did you hear that?" he asked, before figuring out the answer himself. "Uta?"

  "She seems to have a good opinion of you."

  "Well, that's... that's because she began as a flower around the same time I began as Master’s apprentice. I guess that's why we're close. She's also a very sociable person."

  "Oh, trust me, I know that."

  "She's helped me several times already in the past. It might not be evident how she can help me, but considering what I am," he said, casting a glance down at himself, in his scholarly uniform, "she's been of great help as an ambassador of sorts. It's not what you think."

  "And what am I thinking?"

  "You know what it is. And I know I'm not helping my case by being so defensive, but it's really not what you think. Besides, she's a taken flower, one of a high-ranking noble, one with family ties to one of the Crownlord families."

  "Oh. I heard she was made a Vines by someone important but I didn't expect it to be someone that important. That's impressive. Which Crownlord family?"

  "The Cassian family."

  The Crownlord families were, in what was once called the One and Only Era, the royal family, those related to the seven kings, usually direct descendants. At the end of that era, following the death of Emperor Cleon at the hand of Queen Arianna, four of the seven kings were killed by Arianna and her colluding partners: King Lance, King Dorian, and their families were hunted down and slaughtered by none other than the Inquisitorum Regiae which was founded by King Dorian.

  The remaining three royal families, those tied to King Lance, King Dorian, and Queen Arianna, adopted the common title of Crownlord families at the dawn of the new era, presenting a public fa?ade of unity. Yet internally, distinctions remain, evident in the fact that each still carries its own family name: Talulah, Evermere, and Cassian.

  Each of these families wields extraordinary authority, backed by the unaging influence of the powerful kings from whom they descend. The Talulah family is the notable exception: with Queen Arianna gone, only her daughter remains. Yet she is said to be no less formidable, drawing strength not only from the two surviving kings but also from the monarch she inherited her elven pedigree from.

  “In short, you do not want to get on the wrong side of anyone even remotely tied to these families.”

  "Hm, just out of curiosity, what did she want to talk about earlier?"

  "She asked if I had some time later, after I'm done with what me and Master are here for, most likely because she wants me to take a look at one of the flowers, she does that at time."

  "I see," Ana nodded, and in that moment, the door to the room opened, with Lydia emerging.

  With her usual expression, she, after glaring at the siblings, casually declared, "They're done with me, they're waiting for you."

  "Alright," Ana nodded.

  Lydia looked around, then, before Ana proceeded, asked, "Where are the others?"

  "Toilet."

  "I see."

  She closed the door behind her, but seconds later Henri followed her in.

  "You're back, Charles. Feeling better?"

  "Yes, Master. I feel much better now."

  "Next time, if you feel like you lack sleep, just sit the consultation down," Henri's master declared, "especially when you didn't even have to be there. A sickly healer does very bad publicity."

  So that's what it was, Ana mused, casting a chastising glance at her brother, finally figuring out the last piece of the puzzle.

  "Sorry for that."

  "It's nothing," he simply dismissed, before looking at Ana. "Miss Ana?s, please," Lord Severo said, motioning at Ana to approach, but then Henri or to be exact Charles the healer said.

  "Master."

  "Hm?"

  "Would it be alright if I carry out this examination?"

  What are you doing? Ana screamed internally.

  "In truth, this is the reason for which I wanted to come here by myself. She is a new flower, a petal, a new patient. I might learn something new."

  "Hah," Lord Severo strangely boomed. "Just admit that you want to use her as practice for that new ability right?"

  "Hahaha, I admit," Licht nervously.

  "Alright, I allow it. What about you, Miss Ana?s?"

  "Me?"

  "Do you allow it?"

  Ana looked at Henri, then at Madam Violet, who, with a nod, suggested what her answer should be, and she answered, "Yes."

  Ana quickly realized why Henri had insisted on carrying out the consultation. While not exactly invasive, it was invasive enough to make her nervous, especially in the hands of strangers. The consultation involved examining her teeth, testing her hearing and vision, checking her reflexes, and inspecting areas that might indicate hidden ailments. It also required the use of a skill to detect sicknesses that left no visible traces.

  It was at the end of that thorough inspection, carried out by Henri and supervised by Lord Severo, who finally spoke:

  "Ana?s, dear…"

  "Yes, Sir?"

  "Madam violet something about you… would you mind showing it to us?"

  "Ana?s, show Lord Severo your scars."

  Ana winced at the request, but deemed it would be suspicious to refuse. She nodded, then removed her gloves and rolled up the long sleeve of her dress, revealing the burn scar that twisted all across her hand and wrist, pale, raised, and uneven, like melted wax frozen mid-drip.

  Everyone in the room grimaced at the sight, but no one’s expression twisted more uncomfortably than Henri’s.

  Lord Severo stepped forward, his gaze sharp but not unkind. He leaned down to examine the old wound, strange current briefly catching his robes.

  "Hm. Remind me, how did you come by this injury?"

  "I was ten. Or nine," Ana said softly. "There was a fire in the barn my mother and I worked at… slept at." She stuck to the story she’d woven long ago. "The memories are fuzzy, but I remember a log falling on us, my mother trapped beneath it, and me trying to free her."

  A single tear even rolled down her cheek.

  "I see. I apologize for forcing you to recall such a traumatic event. That was inconsiderate of me. Please, forgive me."

  "It's nothing," Ana replied, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief that Henri quickly handed her. "You have no reason to apologize. You're only trying to help."

  "Hm," Lord Severo muttered, then turned toward his disciple. "So, Henri, looking at this injury, tell me: what's your prognosis?"

  Henri glanced at Ana. She met his eyes with a steady, unreadable expression. He sighed.

  "My prognosis is…" He hesitated. "That it cannot be healed. Not by you."

  Lord Severo let out a slow breath. "That was a harsh way to put it, but accurate," he admitted. Then, turning to Ana with a gentle voice, he continued, "You see, dear Ana?s… healing magic, at least the kind I practice, is what we call Restoration focused Magic."

  He knelt slightly, as if to make the explanation less imposing.

  "It's a form of magic that stimulates the natural process of healing, like giving your body a push in the right direction. We don't fix things directly. We help your body do the work. Think of it like sunlight and water for a seed: it only grows if it still can. If the seed’s already rotted, we can’t bring it back."

  He gestured subtly to her hand. "When something is this old… when the skin, the nerves, the tissues have all accepted a scar as part of the new normal, it’s no longer an injury. It’s a result. And Restoration Magic doesn’t undo results. It supports healing, but can’t reverse time."

  Ana remained quiet.

  Lord Severo studied her face. "...You don't look surprised."

  "I’ve visited many temples," Ana said, voice level. "I’ve heard this answer plenty of times."