the King's petals

      Aurora stepped out of the carriage without lifting her hem or adjusting her hair. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, the sharp click of her white heels echoing as she strode forward. Her gaze fixed ahead, shoulders squared, as if she weren’t entering a palace but stepping onto a battlefield.       She scanned her surroundings. Twenty carriages lined up in perfect formation before the palace gates.       “I’m pleasantly surprised,” she said to her handmaidens, eyes still locked on the palace. “It’s not every day you see a kingdom parade its finest like this.”       Simone, carrying the gift box, gave a quiet giggle.       “Especially when one of them is you, my lady. They won’t be expecting that.”       Aurora smirked.       “Then let them be unprepared. It can be all the more interesting.”       She strode toward the main entrance, where two men already stood waiting: Duke Jeremiah, tall, with cloud-soft waves of hair and a practiced smile, and Chancellor Andrew, a lean brunette with piercing eyes, holding a parchment list in his hands.       “Woah… Such handsome young men at the palace these days,” Tara sighed, only to be instantly shushed by Simone. “What? Am I wrong? Look at that duke! I wonder if he’s married… Mmmm…”       “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Tara,” Aurora said, rolling her eyes dramatically, but she couldn’t help smiling. She’d always found it endearing how her handmaiden remained utterly smitten by good-looking men.       “I will tell everything to Nero!” Simone hissed at her friend again.       “No!” Tara protested indignantly.       “You’d better take a look at the other guests. One is prettier than the next. I still don’t understand why we had to travel here… I really don’t understand.”       “Wait, my lady,” Tara replied. “Your goal isn’t any of these ladies. It’s better to wait and see His Highness himself. What he’s truly like and what kind of man he is!”       “Perhaps that’s true… it’s just…” Aurora trailed off as the other guests drew closer to the Duke and the Chancellor. Soon, they would step inside the palace itself. Her heart quickened.       “It’s so thrilling!”       The Duke offered his arm to each lady, helping them up the steps with a tailored compliment for every one:       “Ah, Lady Elianna! As radiant as ever! Lady Marissa, your gown is like morning light! Lady Camilla, you’ll outshine everyone today!”       But when it was Aurora’s turn, he fell silent for a second. Lady Vale didn’t extend her hand. She simply ascended the steps and entirely without his aid.       The Duke, masking his surprise behind a practiced smile, managed to say, “Lady… Aurora? What an unexpected honor. We don’t often see such bold beauties here.”       “And I don’t often see Sindersfell,” she replied with the faintest nod. “Thank you for the invitation and forgive my impertinence. I’m glad to be here.”       Chancellor Andrew, standing nearby, slowly ran a finger down his list. Instead, he held her gaze a moment longer than necessary.       “Aurora Vale from the Southern Lands,” he stated clearly. “We’ve been expecting you.”       Aurora met his eyes without flinching.       “I hope this visit leaves me with pleasant impressions.”       A hush fell over the group instantly. Several nearby girls raised their eyebrows; one even gasped. Jeremiah tensed almost imperceptibly. But Andrew… For the first time that day, the Chancellor smiled. “It’s not depending on us, Miss Vale… but on you.”       She pondered the Chancellor’s words. What exactly did they expect? Neither Jeremiah nor Andrew had spoken to any of the previous guests this way.       After the South Lands with its endless sunshine to see the cold, roaring river and gray stone felt unfamiliar. Her home is entirely different. The Vale’s house had large windows with embroidered curtains, a creaky porch that needed a fresh coat of paint, and her grandmother would already have a pot of meat stewing in the stove for lunch.       Aurora walked calmly to the center of the hall, where the gift table stood already piled high with jewel boxes, figurines, scrolls, and other tokens of nobility’s favor.       “Girls, let’s place ours here,” she said to her handmaidens, pointing to a free spot between Duchess Vellaris’s golden goblet and Lady Marisol’s crystal vase. “Let them see these are gifts from the South.”       The whispering behind her grew louder.       “Who is she?” Lady Elianna hissed, snapping her fan shut.       “Absolutely no manners! She just marched in like she was at a market!”       “How dare she place her little things beside ducal gifts?”       “I doubt she even knows how to curtsy to the prince…”       Aurora turned slowly. Then, in the clear, commanding tone she used when addressing her people back home, she said:       “If you’re so concerned about manners… All of you should perhaps start by not gossiping about guests behind their backs like market vendors? And those ‘little things,’ as you so kindly said, are gifts from the people of the Southern Lands. As for curtsying, I know how to do it. But I only bow to those who’ve earned my respect.”       Even if it came out harsh, she certainly wouldn’t tolerate these idle gossip from a bunch of pampered girls! Let them know their place. If she’d had her way, she’d have cut the hair off anyone who dared speak bad words of her. She hadn’t done anything yet, but some of them were already set against her.       This is utterly outrageous!       Silence fell. Simone and Tara, standing just behind Aurora, exchanged a quick glance. They were used to their lady’s blunt honesty, but this time, Aurora had truly outdone herself. Lady Elianna turned pale. Lady Marisol opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Even Duchess Vellaris, who had been standing aside with a wine glass in hand, slowly lowered it.       Even if such behavior was unacceptable for someone standing within the royal palace, she didn’t regret her reply in the slightest. Silence was clearly never her style.       And Prince Xavier, hearing and watching from the balcony above, let out a quiet chuckle.       “Who is she?” he murmured, turning to Chancellor Andrew, who stood beside him.       The Chancellor replied softly,       “The very reason we narrowed the selection to twenty, Your Highness.”       The Prince frowned.       “What do you mean?”       “We’ve been observing her for over six months. Lady Aurora Vale governs the Southern Lands. We’ve seen her read fairy tales to children in the village square. Once, she even saved a merchant from the Wanderers! She shot an arrow straight into the wheel of their fleeing wagon. And whenever her people need help in the fields, she works alongside them, shoulder to shoulder.”       Yes, that sounds convincing enough. Just by looking at her, it’s clear this girl is far more than she first appears.       Aurora’s offhand joke about the ‘Southern Lands’ advance’ suddenly doesn’t sound like a joke at all. It sounds like a declaration of war.       The Prince took a slow step forward, descending the marble staircase.       Each of his footsteps echoed through the hall. The ladies, who just a moment ago had been whispering and fussing with their hair, now stood utterly still, breath held, eyes wide with awe.       He really was good-looking. No… more than that. He was breathtakingly, divinely beautiful.       Eyes as blue as a cloudless sky, long blond hair falling to his waist with soft waves at the ends, features so finely sculpted they seemed carved by a master artisan, and a black doublet that accentuated the lean strength of his frame…       He is stunningly handsome. Now it all makes sense. Well… of course it does.       He stopped at the center of the hall and began studying the young women one by one. Polite, attentive, with a slight, courteous tilt of his head. Lady Elianna flushed and lowered her eyes. Lady Marisol took a small step forward, angling herself into his line of sight. Lady Camilla let out a soft sigh and nearly swooned on the spot.       The future king moved slowly through the hall. He paused briefly before each girl, offering a practiced smile and a courteous question:       “Lady Camilla, what do you think of our garden?”       “Lady Elianna, I’ve heard you sing beautifully.”       “Lady Marisol, your gown is exquisite.”       “Lady Isabelle, your sense of humor is utterly charming.”       “Lady Sophia, you move with such grace…”       He was attentive to every young lady, but his gaze kept drifting again and again to the one he hadn’t reached yet.

To Aurora.

      Lady Vale stood slightly apart, near the window, where soft sunlight spilled over her lavender dress. Her dark braid woven with silk ribbons and glinting stones restied calmly on her shoulder. She did not lower her gaze.       “Your Highness?” Lady Elianna called out, trying to reclaim his attention. “Did you hear what I said about the Spring Ball?”       “Yes, of course,” he replied, turning toward her, but his eyes still flickered toward Aurora’s silhouette. “That sounds wonderful.”       Without waiting for her reply, he turned and moved through the hall again, this time straight toward her.       Whispers rippled behind him. Camilla was recovering her composure, Elianna gripped her fan tighter, and the other girls exchanged stunned glances. Ignoring them all, Xavier took one step, then another, walking with quiet purpose past the baffled candidates. The murmurs at his back grew louder.       He stopped before Aurora. At last, she lifted her eyes to meet his.       “Lady Vale,” Xavier said, and to his own ears, his voice sounded oddly hushed in the sudden, breathless silence of the hall. “Welcome to Sindersfell. I hope the journey from the Southern Lands wasn’t too taxing?”       He didn’t ask about her impressions of the palace. He didn’t compliment her gown.       “Not at all, Your Highness,” Aurora replied, holding his gaze without hesitation, though she gave a proper, graceful bow. "So it’s true," she thought. "Xavier is really handsome..."       “I’m quite struck by the change in scenery,” she added, her tone measured but unflinching.       “They say you manage your lands yourself. What do you find the most difficult part of such a responsibility?”       “To be honest,” Aurora replied, “The Southern Lands are just a small territory, only a few villages. But it’s where my heart is. I love that place deeply and strive to be a good steward. Of course, it’s not easy to do it alone… But I believe my family watches over me from above, and I hope they’re proud.”       “I’m sorry you had to bear this burden so young,” Xavier said softly. “But I understand what it’s like… To feel the eyes of your ancestors upon you, waiting to see that you won’t let them down.”       He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear:       “Here, at court, many forget that the kingdom isn’t held by the throne in Sindersfell alone. It’s held together by people like you, by those who remember their land and their people.”       “Thank you, Your Highness,” Aurora said, her voice catching. “That means…” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Forgive me.”       Xavier sensed he’d touched a raw nerve in Lady Vale, but he hadn’t meant to bring her to tears. Gently, almost imperceptibly, he brushed her hand and offered his handkerchief.       “The sun shouldn’t hide behind clouds, should it?” he murmured.       Aurora took the handkerchief and, for a fleeting moment, met his gaze.       “I’m so embarrassed this happened,” she said softly. “Forgive me, but you really should continue greeting the others,” she added politely, gently steering him away.       He stepped back with a respectful bow.       Aurora remained by the window, clutching the handkerchief, still warm from his touch. She watched as he walked slowly across the hall, his figure disappearing among swirls of silk gowns and adoring glances.       Duke Jeremiah and Chancellor Andrew observed in silence as Xavier, having finished his formal round, almost instinctively turned his head once more toward the lavender dress and the long, ribbon-woven braid.       “The King isn’t merely choosing a bride for his son,” the Chancellor said quietly. “He’s choosing a future for Philos. And it seems that His Majesty’s calculations were correct.”       “My lady, are you alright?” Tara asked, stepping closer and subtly angling her body to shield Aurora from prying eyes.       “Shall I fetch you some water, my lady?” Simone added.       Aurora exhaled slowly, closing her eyes for a brief moment.       “I don’t know, girls… I really don’t know,” she finally answered.       Chancellor Andrew narrowed his eyes, watching them closely. Their quiet exchange, spoken in the soft lilt of the Southern dialect, stood out against the stiff, hushed murmurs of the court.       “They’re not just handmaidens,” he murmured, nodding toward the trio.       Duke Jeremiah gave a knowing hum, his seasoned gaze having immediately recognized the unspoken bond between them.       “That speaks volumes.”       The two advisors exchanged a look. Silent, but full of understanding.       Trumpets blared, heralding the arrival of the highest royalty. Instantly, every head in the hall bowed as the King and Queen of Phyllos appeared in the doorway of the throne room.       The King was tall and broad-shouldered, with a straight, commanding posture. Beside him walked the Queen. Time had barely touched her doll-like features: large sky-blue eyes, softly full lips and fair hair that shimmered like spun sunlight.       Xavier bowed deeply before his parents.       “Mother, Father,” he greeted.       The King gave a curt nod; the Queen gently touched his arm. Without pausing, they ascended the low balcony at the far end of the hall and took their seats in ornately carved thrones. Their eyes swept across the assembled guests.       Soon, the King stepped to the edge of the balcony. His voice — deep, resonant, and effortlessly filling every corner of the vast chamber — rang out clearly:       “Welcome to Sindersfell,” he began, his gaze slowly traveling over the gathered young women. “Today, the most radiant blossoms of our kingdom have gathered here. You are here because you represent Philos’s hope, a hope for lasting alliances, for a strong future, for the continuation of a Shen dynasty that, for centuries, has safeguarded the peace and prosperity of these lands.”       He turned to Xavier.       “My son, heir to the throne, stands before you now. He has reached the hour when duty calls him not only to claim the crown, but to find a steadfast companion for life. I am certain that in the days to come you will reveal not only your grace and beauty, but your wisdom, virtue, and strength of spirit. May the holy patron of Philos bless us all in this endeavor!”       The court listened with bated breath, but Aurora’s eyes remained fixed on the prince. A troubling thought cut through her mind like a cold blade:       “He can’t truly be himself… Not with all these expectations weighing on him.”       Maybe he wanted to live a different life. To be ordinary. To be free. Just like her.       Lady Vale could wake each morning and do exactly what’s on her mind. She follow the first impulse in her heart, ride out into the fields, speak her mind without fear.       But him…

Who would he choose to be if he truly had the choice?

      “Xavier has probably never sprinted and leapt into the biggest, muddiest puddle just for the joy of it. He never felt the splash spray wildly in every direction, never felt the icy water seep through his boots. He’s never plucked half-ripe berries straight from the bush and popped them into his mouth. He’s never stood in a downpour with arms outstretched, face turned to the sky, soaking in the rain. He’s never laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe, never collapsed onto the grass, rolling and scuffing his knees playing tag. He’s never shot an arrow for the juiciest apple, never climbed a tree, never swung from a branch while listening to the wood groan, ready to snap beneath him…”       Just yesterday, before leaving home, Aurora climbed the old oak by the stream just to watch the sunset. And this very morning, during a carriage stop, she’d plucked a bright orange-coloured berry from a wild bush and fed it to Simone, laughing at her handmaiden’s surprised grimace, then raced off with Tara into the woods to gather wildflowers.       Here, everything was different… Unlike her homeland. And that, she thought, was truly fascinating.       “My lady?” Tara gently called, noticing Aurora’s lingering gaze on the prince. “What are you thinking about?”       Aurora slowly turned to her handmaiden.       “Nothing in particular. It’s just… I’ve realized something.”       “What is it, my lady?”       “He’s never known what it’s like… To simply be himself”, her voice softened. “And that made me sad. And angry, somehow. I’d like to show him that the world can be different.”       The girls nodded in quiet understanding. Simone, smoothing the folds of Aurora’s dress, asked carefully,       “But how? We’re in the palace itself. Everything here is forbidden. You saw how they looked at us just for stepping away from the circle!”       Tara, standing close by, added in a hushed tone:       “If we tried to take him away, even for half an hour, they’d stop us at once.”       Aurora’s eyes gleamed with quiet resolve.       “Then I’ll tell him. And if he’s curious… We’ll find a way to show him a piece of our world.”       Simone caught her breath.       “Are you serious?”       “Absolutely,” Aurora confirmed with a firm nod. “Tomorrow, after breakfast.”