"The coronation will be soon," Diamant says, the timbre of his voice as eloquent yet firm as always. He sits there, enjoying the tea you'd brewed, smiling fondly at you. He's tentative, if only for a moment, and turns to you. "With that, you will become my consort, as was planned."

Diamant clears his throat, keeping his eyes on yours as he tries to best correlate what's on his mind without offending you or causing discomfort. It was an arrangement since childhood. He felt stupid for needing to ask.

"...What kind of flowers..?"