The Rose's Flame

Lunching in the Rose Garden

I arrived in the rose garden a few minutes before noon. The flowerbeds truly were some of the most beautiful I had ever seen. Roses in all hues, from red to white, bloomed in abundance-making the garden live up to its name. Brilliant wildflowers broke up the sea of prim roses with their eccentric blossoms. Dragon-shaped clouds drifted lazily across the azure sky.

"You are early, your highness." Sir Nathan said, approaching from the opposite entrance to the garden. Oliver shuffled along beside him, leaning on his arm for support. I noticed that Oliver's manner of walking was slow and laborious. He appeared bowlegged when standing, and every step seemed to cause him pain. I supposed that was why I had not seen him standing before now.

The next thing I noticed about Oliver was the porcelain mask obscuring his scars. The mask was white and had narrow slits for his eyes and mouth. Pointed ears stuck out from the sides of the mask, hiding Oliver's oddly shaped ones. I could readily see its resemblance to a goblin's face; apparently the rumors about his appearing in public were true. I was unsure why he was wearing it here, however, as no one but the castle staff and I might see him.

Oliver and Nathan led me to a wrought iron table under a whitewashed trellis. Fragrant climbing roses wound their way up the wooden beams, adding another splash of color to the day.

Nathan retreated to the other side of the courtyard and sat down on a bench with a book, giving us some semblance of privacy that Ambrosia had never allowed. Servants brought out a pitcher of chilled apple cider, ham sandwiches and sweet butter cookies for us to feast on; or, as it turned out, for me to feast on while Oliver sat there watching me eat.

The roots of his reputation were really becoming clear now.

The edge of my chair dug into my leg as I sat, nervously tapped my foot against the smooth cobblestones. "You haven't touched your sandwich, my lord." I said.

"I am not hungry." Oliver said, looking out across the garden.

"It is hardly noontime! Do not tell me you have already eaten."

"I shall eat when I return to my quarters."

I gently put my hand on his and asked teasingly, "You do understand the concept of eating luncheon with your fiancée, do you not?"

Oliver glanced down at my hand, his body language portraying surprise before he recomposed himself. "I cannot eat with this mask on. Would you care for some more cider?"

"Certainly." I said, allowing Oliver to pour more of the tasty beverage into my cup.

There was a brief moment of silence before Oliver spoke. "Erm, I have been meaning to ask you about something. I've been doing a bit of research on the culture of Esmerdel after my mother said that women are not taught to read there. You had mentioned the you have rudimentary level of literacy. Is there any particular reason for your learning?"

I took a sip of my cider before answering. "Your mother was correct; female nobility in Esmerdel do not usually receive a so-called 'formal' education. However, my father decided it would be beneficial for me given that literacy is more common in Enchantment."

"Ah, I see." Oliver said. "Do you like to read very much? It's just, I really, really love reading."

"I have not had much of an opportunity, but I do enjoy fairytales." I said.

"Really?" Oliver seemed to bubble over with excitement. "That is my favorite genre! People say they are just tales to soothe children to sleep, but I think they offer valuable life lessons hidden within their whimsical metaphors."

"I agree. Do you have a favorite?"

"Undoubtedly, The Maiden in the Tower." Oliver said.

"I am not familiar with that one. What is it about?"

"A young maiden is trapped in a tower by her wicked mother to keep her safe from the world. One day, a boy finds and befriends the maiden, but the mother finds out and throws the boy from the tower window. He dies, and the maiden hangs herself in despair."

"That is horrible! What is to like in a story like that?" I said, cringing at the thought of the maiden's horrible fate.

"I find it to be a good metaphor for how life does not always go your way."

"That is a rather pessimistic way to look at the world."

"Well, I have never been known to be an optimist." Oliver said, looking out across the garden.

"The way your mother acts like you cannot speak for yourself, I do not blame you."

"She is supportive in her own way."

"I suppose, but do you not ever find her behavior aggravating?"

"I certainly find it aggravating, but she means no harm. What I do not understand is where your sudden concern is coming from."

I took a bite of my sandwich, chewing it slowly as I considered my answer. "I suppose my concern comes from the fact that you remind me of my sister, Mallow."

"How so?" Oliver asked.

"I never told you this, but Mallow is blind. Because of this, my parents, at times, act like she is little more than a useless beggar; it absolutely sickens me. I do my best to stand up for her, but it is difficult to change people's perceptions. By extension, I find it awful how those around you treat you as if you are sub-human just because you look different."

"You did not seem to think that way the day we met."

Heat rose in my cheeks as I smoothed out my crimson skirt.

Just then, I noticed a beautiful red rose, brighter than the flowers around it, blooming by my foot. I plucked the rose from the garden bed and offered it to Oliver. "I know I sound hypocritical. It is just...I suppose I have begun to grow accustomed to your appearance."

Oliver took the flower with a smile brighter than the brilliant sun. The sun soaked into my skin, making me feel warmer than I had since my arrival in Enchantment.

The moment was ruined when Oliver's stomach growled. We both started in surprise. "Well, if you refuse to eat something, as least have some cider; it is quite refreshing you know." I said.

"I told you-I cannot eat or drink with this mask on." Oliver said.

"Why not take it off then? I already know your face, and nobody else is around to see you."

"I am not allowed to remove it outside of my chambers."

"That is ridiculous, you should not be forbidden to eat just because people might be afraid of your scars."

"I am not necessarily prohibited from eating. I choose not to remove it."

"But why? Why wear a mask that has earned you the nickname 'The Goblin King'?"

Oliver was silent for a long moment. "Do people really call me that?"

I was taken aback by that response. He really did not know? "Yes, I knew that name before I knew your given name." I said. "In fact, most people say your family is cursed."

"I never knew that..." Oliver said. He leaned back in his chair sighing. "It all makes sense now. When you first saw me, I thought you were going to faint. I wondered if I was really so monstrous as to evoke that kind of reaction from anyone. However, if I really have the reputation of being cursed, your fear makes much more sense."

I turned away, unable to meet his eyes.