Haze knows being a witch makes her stand out, but she will never get used to the eyes studying her when she enters a room, waiting for her to make a mistake.

Waiting for her to suddenly break out in evilness and curse them all.

It’s even worse right now because the royal family is hosting a ball so there is a flurry of people around. Buzzing bees. Ones that haven’t gotten used to her and Nova.

It also doesn’t help that this is the first formal event since the one that a royal guard tried to take down Aziza. Haze won’t ever get the memory of the knife flying towards Aziza out of her mind.

Thank goodness for Nova.

Haze’s footsteps sound like elephants, walking down the hall. Perhaps it’s her nerves.

Speaking with people is not the easiest. She and Nova were raised by the forest and the animals within it. The castle humans are a whole different species.

So normal humans intimidate her, but it’s magnified with the royal ones. Other than Aziza, anyone with a pointy crown spooks her a bit.

Nova says that she shouldn’t get skiddish because royalty are regular people with a weird title and shiny accessories. But Haze can’t help but feel like a delicate flower around them.

A spectacle that can be easily crushed.

As she nears the regal Queen Amira, Haze has to remind herself why she has to speak with her.

She has to convince the queen of a threat to the kingdom. A wizard.

Queen Amira is speaking with multiple different people, confirming event details. She does it with so much ease that Haze wonders if she grew up preparing for things like this.

If so, that’s kinda sad.

“Is there a reason you are standing there, Miss Haze?”

That jolts her from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized she stopped in the middle of the hallway.

“Queen Amira, I would like to talk to you,” she finally answers, hoping her voice doesn’t shake like a leaf.

Haze would say the queen’s posture straightened, but she consistently stands perfectly straight like a strong tree, never wavering, even when no one is watching.

It’s more like she tenses.

“Everyone appears to. You have a moment before someone else comes out here to request flower arrangements or tablecloth colors.” Haze takes this as an indicate to talk.

Even with all the prep on what she was going to say, she finds herself wordless. Quiet as a mouse.

Queen Amira waits patiently, her hands clasped in front of her, pristine as ever.

Haze fidgets, her fingers of one hand encircling her other wrist.

“Ok, the dragon situation from yesterday. I felt something,” she musters.

Internally, she winces at how fragmented that sounded. If only she had her sister’s confident composure.

“You are referring to the dragon attack?” The queen questions.

At least something came across.

Haze nods. “The dragon wasn’t attacking. He was spelled,” she corrects.

Her straight face falters at Haze’s words. Her eyes widens, only the tiniest fraction, and her mouth falls open slightly.

Maybe she should’nt be correcting the queen of Oreza. Probably not her smartest move, but she’s not a wise owl.

As quick as her reaction was, she regains her stoic appearance just as fast.

“Miss Haze, I do not——“

She gets cut off by Prim, a royal decorator, entering the hall.

The second Prim comes out, Haze feels a soothing sense of peace. It’s so instinctual, Haze doesn’t understand until she sees the various flowers in Prim’s hands.

Flowers remind her of home.

She misses home.

It unexpectedly hits her with longing. A homesickness of sorts.

She wonders if Nova ever feels this.

“Queen Amira, what type of flowers would you like?” Prim holds up a big bouquet of stunning flowers in the queen’s sight, not so close to smother her, but close enough to admire them all.

Haze studies the queen’s face. There is something in her eyes when she scans over the flowers.

A sadness. A longing.

“The decor otherwise is this lovely green hue, so the these violet ones will complement it quite nicely.”

They do look pretty. The pansies aren’t a light purple. More like a violet reddish color.

Aziza would look stunning in the color of these flowers.

Prim notes something down before going like how she came. Like in a gust of wind.

Queen Amira stares at the now empty space where Prim and the flowers were. It’s as if she is somewhere else. Not confined to these stone walls.

“Pansies are a great choice,” Haze says, breaking the silence.

The queen doesn’t miss a beat, “You know your flowers, Miss Haze.” It suspiciously sounds like a compliment, though maybe that’s a bit too much.

Haze shrugs. Nature is her thing. Witches have a connection that is undeniable. “But something tells me you wish you had different options.”

“How did you—” she begins but pauses mid sentence, “Yes, you are correct.”

Maybe she didn’t want the answer. Or maybe she realized that her face gave her away.

“What ones were you thinking of, if I may ask?” Haze doesn’t want to overstep, but flowers are something Haze knows. Something they could bond over or at least have a not-tense conversation.

A gaze shines over the queen’s eyes. This time though, there’s not a morose appearance. It’s happiness. Like remembering a splendid memory. “There are these exquisite, purple flowers that King Harold used to bring me. He told me they symbolized eternal love. I do not know if that was true, but I never questioned it because I wanted to believe that they did.”

It’s a pretty story.

She never thought of the king as particularly romantic. Maybe with the right person you can be.

“Would you like them for the ball?” Haze asks, even though she knows the answer.

Queen Amira gives a shake of her head, like it is a silly thought. “It would be lovely. Unfortunately, they do not bloom until spring.”

“That’s too bad. Everyone deserves to have the flowers they want,” she comments.

The softness in the queen’s gaze is gone. Back is the guard. The wall up. “That is true, though we rarely get what we want in life.”

That sentiment reminds her of Nova. It gives her an idea.

“True. That’s too bad. Heliotropes are stunning.”

Queen Amira’s head snaps to her. The biggest reaction Haze has seen from her so far.

As Haze leaves the hall, knowing it isn’t the right time for her warning, she parts with three words. “He was right.”

With her back to the queen, she can’t see her questioning expression.

But she can feel the joy in the air when the heliotropes bloom right there in the hallway.

———

(When Haze says that he was right, she is referring to the king saying those flowers mean eternal love. In case that wasn’t obvious.)