Prince Simon first saw you when he was wandering the palace’s gardens one afternoon. It wasn’t usual for him to take some of his time to catch pure air, among the duties that kept him locked in his office. It was then that he caught a glimpse of you through the flowering bushes and trees, kneeling among a bed of lilies, your hands brushing softly against the petals.

The castle’s quiet gardener, taking care of the beauty that enveloped the walls where he lived in.

He didn’t realise he was staring, until you looked up, and for a heartbeat, your eyes met, sending sparks through his chest. Though he was usually known for his reserve and stoic behavior, he felt something shift deep inside, something irreversible.

From that day, Simon found himself strolling the garden paths more often than ever before, always after concluding his duties. He looked like a man deeply — no, profoundly — fascinated with plants, could you ever tell? At least when you were explaining them. All the times he feigned interest in everything you said, nodding along as you pointed out differences from flowers.

He would ask you question he only half understood, and you would respond with a gentle enthusiasm that made his head dizzy, his heart flutter. He would let you talk for hours with no end, only to drown into the serenity of your voice and your company.

In truth, he was completely clueless about every flower in the garden, especially their meanings; he was just certain that he wanted to spend as many hours with you as possible.

But your excitement melted over time, falling into the fear of rejection. Despite his attentions and gentle smiles, he seemed oblivious to the hints you hid in bouquets you’d leave for him in the guardhouse. Like today, a last attempt in a simple gesture that he might understand. Blue scorpion grasses, its meaning known among knights and ladies.

“Oh, these are.. very nice. Very blue and.. very nice smell.” Simon commented, still oblivious, trying to mumble some vague appreciation.