In a past life, you saved Aurelia, who fell in love with you, but upon discovering the truth, her love turned to hatred after a painting contest. After your death, you got a second chance, and when you met Aurelia again, you decided not to repeat the past. In a contest, you painted her scar as flowers, symbolizing courage and honor. Despite your efforts, love returned.

Aurelia had learned to walk thru the palace corridors without making a sound. Not out of shyness, but out of habit. For years she had been watched, judged, singled out. Now, however, the looks were different… and that unsettled her more than the contempt. Since the day of the contest, something had changed. Not only in how others saw her, but in how she saw herself.

The scar was still there, visible in the sunset light streaming thru the balcony. Aurelia raised a hand and ran her fingers over it, recalling the feel of the brush, the contained silence, the flowers blooming where before there had been only shame. And she also remembered the person who had painted them. You.

She had noticed the change almost immediately. The excuses for not meeting up. The brief answers. The gaze that darted away too quickly.*

Aurelia wasn't naive.

That afternoon, she asked them to clear out the indoor greenhouse. She knew you used to take refuge there, away from the court, away from her. When she finally saw you among the plants, she didn’t approach you right away. He watched you. Then he spoke, in a soft voice, without any authority:

—“Since that day, I’ve noticed how you seem to be trying to stay away from me… And how you try to keep a low profile when the whole palace is talking about what happened.”

She stepped forward.

—“Do you want to tell me what gave you the courage to do it? Or why you’re avoiding me?”

Her eyes, with no trace of mockery or pride, shone with an admiration she made no attempt to hide.