Ana, Charmy, and Lydia were sat in Ut's family living room, around a table, with tea, or something tasting like tea, and a plate of very thick, clearly freshly baked biscuits in front of them. Sitting with them was Uta's sister.

  "I mean, she told us that she had a sister, so I was surprised to see someone at her doorstep, but when I saw the sister in question, I was like 'waouh'?"

  "Awww, Miss Charmy, you're teasing me."

  As annoyingly cringy as Charmy was to people like Ana, who wasn’t used to this level of clinginess, Ana had to admit that when paired with the right person, which included a large variety of people who were just not uncomfortable with clinginess, Charmy was very likely to hit it off right away, as was the case here with Uta's sister.

  "Not all, I’m totally serious. You’re top beauty. Your parents did a ridiculously good job."

  "Aww, thanks."

  To be fair, the girl seemed awfully vulnerable to praise, mellowing right away at the mention of her beauty, something Charmy might have picked up on, or not, but was using.

  "Please, don't praise her too much," Uta's mother remarked. "It's gonna get to her."

  "Mom."

  "But it’s true though. Though, Mom, can I call you Mom, Ma'am?"

  Smiling with the same smile she passed to her daughter, Uta's mother nodded.

  "As a flower, I've seen beautiful girls, so I'm a very good judge. I tell you, she really passed down the right traits," Charmy praised, exaggeratedly.

  To such praise, one might expect a smile or just a positive acknowledgment, but in that moment, Uta's mom’s expression didn’t exactly show that.

  "So you’re a flower?"

  "Me?" Charmy frowned. "Yes, well, I’m technically just a petal. One being trained by your daughter, Mom."

  She turned toward her eldest daughter. "Isn’t she a little too young to join the Garden?" she frowned, asking Charmy, "How old are you?"

  "15, but I’ll be 16 very soon."

  "Same as me," beamed Tanie.

  "As I thought, you’re still a child..." Uta's mom mumbled, clearly baffled.

  "Mom, as she said, she isn’t a flower, she is a petal. It’ll still be some time before the Garden expects anything of her as a flower," Uta reassured, but the expression her mother gave her instantly silenced the girl, a first for Ana, who was quite used to seeing beautiful, high-performing flower get everything her way even from supposedly superior.

  That’s a mother for you, Ana thought to herself, staring and thinking of a way to cut through the tense silence that settled. But before she could think of anything or attempt anything, Lydia did, asking, "Ma'am, you got any more of these thick biscuits?" She held the empty bowl; the sidelong glance made it clear that this was an intentionally timed question.

  She took a breath, then nodded. “Of course, I’ll get you some more,” she said, taking the bowl and heading toward the kitchen.

  “I’ll come with you,” Lydia chimed in, trailing after Uta’s mom. “They’re freshly baked, right? They’re really good, still warm.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes! I’ve never had anything like this. What are they called?”

  When the two vanished into the kitchen, the room settled into silence again. Uta, Ana, Charmy, and Tanie were left behind. Charmy and Tanie soon lost themselves in conversation, and in the space between their voices, Ana and Uta found themselves quietly watching one another.

  “Wanna see my room?” Uta asked, tilting her head toward the stairs.

  Ana nodded and followed her. The bedroom upstairs was much smaller than Ana’s back in the Garden, humbler too, no gleaming tiles or embroidered curtains, just soft fabrics, dusky wood, and an overall sense of warmth.

  “What do you think?” Uta asked.

  “It’s a nice room,” Ana said, then moved toward the window. “And it has a good view of the street below, and the temple, way off in the distance.”

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  She leaned forward slightly, taking it all in. Below her stretched a serene street in a respectable part of the city, calm and nearly still. A woman passed by with a covered basket. Children chased one another, loud and carefree. Near the corner stood a man, the same one they had passed earlier on their way in. He hadn’t moved much. Perhaps he was waiting for someone.

  “You think?” Uta said, stepping beside her. “It sure isn’t anything like my room in the Garden.”

  “It sure isn’t,” Ana agreed, casting one more glance back toward the waiting man.

  He was gone.

  “But it is homely.”

  “Homely, huh?” Uta chuckled, walking over to the lone bed and sitting down. She ran her hand across the fabric before leaning back and staring at the ceiling. “Then you should have seen our room in La Basse. It was much homelier than this.”

  “Sound like you miss it,” Ana said.

  “You noticed?” Uta gave a half-smile. “Yeah, I miss it. But it’s absurd, right? Missing that time, when this—this life—is the dream of so many flowers."

  Ana just silently looked at the girl.

  "Only a handful of us get this far. And yet here I am, longing for something so.... lesser. Hehe, I can’t even say it’s atypical of me.” She laughed at herself, the sound light but strained.

  “I don’t think it’s absurd,” Ana said, stepping back from the window. She wanted to offer something more, something comforting? but instead a question came out: “Say, if you had the choice back when you joined the Garden, would you still have chosen to become a flower?”

  Lying there, Uta turned her head to look at her. “yes,” she said without hesitation. “Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have everything I have today.”

  “I see,” Ana nodded, admittedly surprised by the firmness of her answer.

  “You didn’t expect that answer, did you?”

  Ana didn’t deny it. She had expected this, just not with this much conviction.

  “I might not look the part, but I’m actually very greedy,” Uta teased.

  “Greedy? I wouldn’t say that,” Ana corrected. “Well, maybe a little, but not excessively so. Nitpicky, though, that you definitely are, even if you’re quite sly about it.”

  “Nitpicky, huh?” She laughed. “You know me well, Ana?s. Makes me wonder, just how much more do you know about me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Uta looked at her, teetering on the edge of a decision. Then she took the leap. “You know I’m pregnant, don’t you?”

  Ana grimaced. She didn’t try to deny it. “Not exactly knew. I had my suspicions.”

  “So I outed myself then. Hah.” Uta rolled onto her side, groaning. “And here I was thinking you knew for sure. That’s why you asked about what happens to a flower when she gets pregnant the other day, right?”

  Ana stayed quiet.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked. The decision, as far as she knew, was still Uta’s.

  Uta sat up slowly, brushing her hair back. “To be honest? I don’t know yet. I came here to talk to my mom about it.”

  Ana thought.

  “I’m sure you think this is ridiculous. What is there to talk about? I’m, a vine, pregnant by my bookkeeper, someone who clearly cares about me.”

  “It’s not the case?” Ana asked, closing as in to suggest she confess, and she did, respond to the stimuli.

  “Absurdly enough, it is. You’ve seen how he is. Overly doting. Even I, in all my greed, think so sometimes.”

  Something in her tone made Ana pause. She didn't inquire about it. She only waited, for she felt the answer would come to her. And it did.

  “But the thing is, Anais, I don’t think what we have is what people assume. He appreciates me, he’s clearly attracted to me… but I don’t think he loves me.”

  Ana frowned, trying to hide it.

  Uta noticed anyway. “I know what I am. A flower, and one taught well. We are not to expect something so ideal as love, expecting it only leads to disappointment. Being appreciated, being doted on, that is supposed to be enough. Still, I always believed that if I ever became someone’s mistress, especially if I bore his child, then love should have been part of the bargain.”

  “That makes sense,” Ana said.

  But Uta was clearly not convinced that it made sense to her. “Lord Valerian has been my bookkeeper for months, my patron for even longer. And as absurd as it sounds, I felt more loved when he was just a visitor. Since becoming a Vine… I don’t know. He’s changed. In good ways that makes me really sound nitpicky if not outright insane but something about it makes me question everything.”

  The concern in her voice was palpable, her anguish thinly veiled. Ana listened, uneasily curious about this Lord Valerian.

  Uta caught herself and straightened, brushing a hand through her hair. “Sorry—I didn’t mean to dump all that on you."

  "It's alright, I'm glad you confessed to me, it's an honor," Ana reassured her, reaching for the girl’s hand. She meant every word. Part of her was even quietly proud of herself for managing this without resorting to any of her mind-warping abilities.

  “It’s strange,” she added softly. “I came here to talk with my mother, but somehow… talking to you first feels better.”

  Ana was surprised by how warm that made her feel. She wasn’t used to being trusted with things like this, but in this moment, she was grateful. “I’m glad you did,” she said. And she meant it. For two reasons: first, because she genuinely liked the girl. And second—for reasons tied to her investigation. So she asked, carefully, “I get that I’m the first person you really talked to about this. But… am I the only one who knows?”

  "About?"

  Ana glanced down to her belly.

  Uta shook her head.

  Ana's stomach turned at the answer. “Who else?”

  “Madam Datura. I told her three days ago when I confirmed I’d be visiting my parents like I do monthly.”

  Ana kept her reaction carefully hidden, though her concern sharpened. From her investigation, she knew that over the past six months several flowers whose contracts had never been purchased by their main patrons had vanished. Some had left hints behind. In a few cases, there had even been quiet confirmations—signs that they might have been pregnant.

  Those disappearances had been smothered just as quietly. No questions. No fuss.

  Every thread led inward, back to the Garden.

  And now Uta had just told her that she confessed this truth to someone who represented that very institution.

  A chill threaded through Ana’s thoughts. Two realizations followed. One she dreaded. The other made the part of her still on a mission stir with grim satisfaction.

  “You okay?” Uta asked.

  Ana blinked. “Yeah… Just thinking.”

  There was a pause, then she asked: “Say… what do you think of them?”

  “Them?”

  “The Garden. On this matter. Are you sure they’ll stand by your side, like they say they would if a flower ever got pregnant?”