Carrying a variety of gardening tools and a sack of fertilizer, Leo and Orson strolled down the walkway toward the royal garden behind the main palace.

Leo's eyes were drawn to the distant tall, neatly trimmed hedges encircling the perimeter with an iron gate adorned by cascading flowers. Two guards stood watch at the entrance—a clear reminder that this private sanctuary was reserved exclusively for the royals.

But what could Leo possibly be doing here, one may wonder? The answer lay with the chattering girl walking between him and Orson.

"I was honestly surprised by his strength!" she exclaimed, passing the bag she carried into the other hand. "Does he not get tired or what?"

"I'd like to ask her the same," he mumbled.

"What did you say?" she said, turning to Leo.

"Don't mind him," Orson said with a smile, a sight Leo never thought he'd witness. "He has a slight tendency to talk to himself."

She laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

Leo huffed a breath, rolling his eyes at Orson.

She was Nancy—or possibly Poppy—a girl who had once served under Famill, the former gardener spy, up until his execution. Now, she had taken over his responsibilities and according to what Orson had told Leo, each gardener was assigned to a specific section of the royal grounds. And, of course, on the days Orson mysteriously disappeared, he'd been busy befriending them.

He had become familiar with the group of workers and hoped they would eventually lead him to the garden, however, they weren't as careless as he thought. It wasn't that they distrusted him, but the garden, filled with countless rare and valuable flowers, had been the target of many theft attempts. For this reason, security was tight, making it nearly impossible for an ordinary man to gain entry.

"Thank you again for agreeing to this, Mr. Orson," the girl said. "I would have been in a real pinch if not for you."

"Oh, it's alright," he said kindly. "I'm more than happy to help."

Orson had met her a little over a week ago after she returned from a trip to her hometown. It had taken him mere days to win her friendship and trust but gaining access to the garden required more than just sweet words.

"Why would anyone assault Twain?" she asked, referring to her assistant. "I just can't imagine anyone wanting to hurt him."

"Of course not. He's such a sweet boy," Orson replied softly, his brows furrowed with supposed worry. "I truly wonder how something like that could happen."

Says the assailant, Leo thought, shooting Orson a look of pure disgust at his hypocrisy.

Orson had broken the young assistant's arms just days earlier all to play the role of savior now and gain entry. He had observed that of all the gardeners the girl held the ticket he desperately needed and her assistant was merely a stumbling block he needed to remove to get to it.

"Mr. Oakley said it would take a few months for him to start working again," she said, biting her lower lip. "And he could lose his job in the meantime."

Orson gasped softly. "That's terrible."

She nodded. "I do hope they catch whoever did this soon."

"So do I," Orson agreed, locking eyes with Leo's contorted expression. He flashed him a falsely sympathetic smile that made Leo shudder.

They were greeted by the two guards, one of whom cast a scrutinizing look at Leo and Orson.

"Twain didn't come with you today?" the guard asked, his eyes never leaving the pair.

"And he won't for the next couple of months, unfortunately," she replied. "Broke his arms."

"How did that happen?" the other guard asked, his concern evident.

"Long story," she said.

Leo patiently waited for the unnecessary conversation to be over, and after a few moments, the gate was finally opened for them.

They walked down mosaic-tiled pathways that wound through the garden, flanked by tall hedges woven with bursts of colorful flowers popping out in random places. Small, elegant water fountains appeared at intervals, their gentle trickling adding to the peaceful ambiance, each adorned with vibrant flowerbeds and dipping plants draped over the gushing water, their leaves mere inches from touching the water. Stone benches nestled beneath vine-covered arbors in corners, inviting quiet moments of rest.
As Leo passed by each bloom, he noticed the majority were not native to Gerdia, further proof of the king's obsession with exotic treasures.

Leo glanced at Orson, noticing his pupils slightly narrowed as he scanned the area.

"By the way, Mr. Orson—"

"Poppy," Leo interrupted, not wanting Orson distracted at this crucial moment. "I've been wondering something."

"The name's Posey," she laughed. "Not Poppy. Posey."

"Right, right," Leo said, brushing it off as he swiftly shifted to a more flattering tone. "You don't look much older than me, yet you've already made quite a name for yourself. I heard you were called... what was it, a floral healer?"

"Well, that's just what my colleagues call me. I'm nothing special," Her inflating ego couldn't be more obvious. 

She cleared her throat, adjusting the bag in her hand. "But, you know, they're not too far off."

Leo mentally rolled his eyes but continued feigning interest. "I also heard you were the one who figured out why the Rounesian flowers weren't blooming. Your touch can revive any dying flower, apparently."

"How very impressive," Orson added, a small smile at the corner of his lips. He seemed to find Leo's efforts amusing.

She shrugged, pursing her lips to hide a grin. "Well, I don't like to brag, but I did once save the flower Lady Rosette brought from her country and the king rewarded me with two years' worth of..."

She continued to boast about her achievements throughout their journey while Leo observed Orson scan their surroundings for the specific flower they sought amidst the kaleidoscope of colors all around.

They entered a section brimming with nursery beds of budding flowers, an endless array of unique sizes, shapes, and rare beauty.

Starting at the edge, she instructed them to set their tools on the ground and began her work. Leo kept up the pretense of interest, asking her questions that encouraged further boasting, hoping to give Orson enough concentration.

Orson glanced at Leo and shook his head. It's not here either.

Her hands paused, and a frown crossed her face. "Ah, but there is one flower I've never been able to get to bloom."

Both their attentions were instantly piqued.

Orson's gaze returned to normal. "Really, now?"

"I honestly don't even know what's wrong with it," she complained, striking the trowel against the dirt. "I've tried every fertilizer, adjusted the soil nutrients, limited its sunlight exposure, increased the exposure, but nothing seems to work. It stays withered and dry no matter what I do."

Orson and Leo exchanged looks. It sounded exactly like the flower they were searching for.

"Isn't it dead then?" Leo asked, already knowing the answer.

"The petals are withered, true, but they're not dead," she said with a chuckle. "That's what earned it the name 'Netherbloom of Kresbic Highlands.'"

That was confirmation.

"That sounds like such a fascinating flower," Orson said, carefully choosing his words. "Would it be possible for us to see it?"

"Huh?" She sounded genuinely puzzled.

Leo tensed.

"We might never get the chance to visit the garden again," Orson said calmly, watching her reaction. "...Or is that a no?"

She shook her head. "No, no, I was just wondering what part of what I described interested you," she said. "It's no problem at all. I don't know if you'll find it as fascinating once you see it, though."

"That would be for us to decide," Orson said, turning to Leo. "Right?"

Leo nodded.

After finishing her tasks, she packed up her tools and led them through the maze of flowers, Orson carefully memorizing the route.

They arrived at a secluded corner, where the Netherblooms nestled among a lively group. They emitted a strangely unsettling aura with their many tiny petals browned and drooping, perfectly embodying their enigmatic reputation, and a stark contrast to the surrounding brilliance.

Leo noticed a gazebo nearby, which he guessed was the one the crown princess frequented.

Orson approached, gazing admiringly at them. "They're absolutely beautiful."

She glanced between the flowers and Orson, her expression questioning whether they were seeing the same thing.

Orson turned, bowing his head. "You have my utmost thanks for this opportunity." He then faced the withered flowers again. "You can't imagine my gratitude."

She exhaled sharply, bewildered by Orson's intense reaction to the seemingly lifeless blooms.

While the girl might not grasp the significance now, Leo was certain she would come to regret this moment deeply. After all, this was the moment she had unwittingly assisted their enemies on a path that would cost her everything she lived for.

***

The wind rustled softly through their clothes as Leo and Orson stood atop a tall tree. Leo observed the pond below, where the fish shimmered and danced and every building scattered across the land. He caught a glimpse of Lelseck too, though not much beyond it.

As he continued scanning the vast expanse of trees, something caught his eye—a familiar figure with long brown waves. His attention was immediately drawn.

She wasn't too far away and in her hand, was what appeared to be a sketchbook. Her pencil moved rapidly as she glanced up at the scenery and Leo shifted closer for a better view.

She stood up, placing a hand on her waist as if deep in thought. She tilted her body to one side, her hair sliding gracefully off her back. After a moment of contemplation, she shook her head, then returned to her place on a rock, grabbing her tools and resuming her sketching.

He found himself smiling as he watched her repeat a cycle of frustration and satisfaction with her piece.

Leo only realized Orson was finished when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

The two descended the crystal stairs that wound around the tree and once they landed, Leo tapped the ice lightly, causing it to burst into tiny flakes that drifted gently with the wind.

"I've managed to map out the place," Orson said, "and I've come up with our escape route. But for the guards, I think I'll need to consult Reisey."

"Is that so?" Leo replied absently. She shouldn't be too far away. From where he saw from above, he decided to head west.

"I'll also need to talk to Shamie and Elrim. That scrawny girl might be useful too..." Orson continued. He turned to Leo. "What do you think—" 

His eyebrows furrowed as he saw Leo wasn't paying attention. "Leo. Are you listening—"

"Can you go ahead?" Leo said, already striding away. "We'll talk later in the evening. Promise!" he added before Orson could protest.

Leo followed the direction he had observed from above but it took him longer than expected to reach her location. 

Just as before, she was seated on a much larger rock than he'd initially thought, completely engrossed in her work.

He considered approaching her but hesitated. She appeared more focused now than she did from above, and he felt he shouldn't disturb her.

But, if he caught up with Orson now, he would likely be questioned about his earlier departure and Leo wasn't ready to explain. On the other hand, if he stayed and was discovered, he would be mistaken for a man who liked to spy on unsuspecting women.

Leo blinked in surprise. She was busy and had no time for him. The logical conclusion was to leave. What's wrong with me?

He spun around, coming face to face with the hollow eye sockets of a gaunt, long-tailed bird hanging upside down with its bat-like wings wrapped tightly around its frail form like a dark shroud. 

Leo's body was temporarily locked in place from the shock, but he wasn't overcome by it. 

As he cautiously stepped forward, the creature unleashed a blood-curdling screech and its wings flared open, revealing a naked, skeletal frame while grotesque yellow eyes bulged out from the empty sockets, fixing its uneven gaze on him.

Leo couldn't help a yelp, stumbling backward over a root as the cackling bird flew away, leading to him falling hard on his butt. That was the second time in a week he had fallen and his tailbone was as good as broken. And worse, Elizabeth could have—

"Leo?"

He bit his lips, cursing the bird—if it could be considered one—under his breath.

She came closer. "My, how did you end up there?" she said, offering a hand, locks of her curls falling over her shoulder. He caught a whiff of lavender.

He got up by himself. "A damn bird—"

There was that cackle again and it caused Leo to jolt and they looked up to see it flying overhead.

"I wonder if it escaped the birdhouse again," Elizabeth mused, eyes trailing after it.

"You can't possibly tell me that thing's part of the king's collection," he said flatly.

"He went all the way to Merpus to buy it," she said. "It's said to ward off bad energy, after all."

"With its looks, it would ward off anything."

Elizabeth stifled a laugh, bringing a hand to her mouth. 

Leo cracked a smile. "What? Am I wrong?"

"That thing's caused enough ridicule for the king," she said, suppressing her laughter.

"I understand why it would."

She turned her head away. "Laughing would be a mockery, at this point."

"So, you're telling me the king spent a fortune on a deceased rat masquerading as what should be a bird and we don't get to say anything?"

She let go of all restraint. It was a refreshing sound of pure happiness of a rather highly infectious value that Leo liked. Leo couldn't help but join in, enjoying the rare moment where her usual calm demeanor slipped away in her spontaneous bursts.

"You're evil," she said, shaking her head as she walked back while Leo followed her.

She sat on the rock, picking up a pencil from a pouch of them and her sketchbook as Leo settled against a tree behind her. 

"What are you working on?" Leo asked, peering over her shoulder and marveling at the intricate details of her drawing.

"Incredible," he couldn't help but say.

She glanced at him, smiling as she looked back at her artwork. "I was working on the ingredient adjustment, but I decided to take a little break. I should be done by tomorrow."

Leo felt a pang of guilt. "Like I said, you don't need to stress too much about it. It's fine the way it is."

She hummed thoughtfully, shifting to get a better view of Leo. "Leo, do you know why I started studying herbal medicine? After all, how many women do you see in this field today?"

Leo pushed himself off the tree. "I'm not sure. Do tell."

She placed the book on her lap. "When I was younger, my mother often took me to visit a friend of hers. His hospital wasn't the largest, but it was always full. No matter how wounded or pained the patients were, they would be relieved once he applied his herbs."

She looked up at Leo, her eyes lit with excitement. "Can you imagine? Every mixture he used was green and indistinguishable to me, yet they all had different functions. Some would relieve headaches, some would induce sleepiness, and so much more. I was utterly amazed."

She chuckled softly. "I'm nowhere near as skilled as that doctor, but I hope to be someday. Besides, I don't have as many patients to practice on." 

She gave a playful smile. "So, be a good boy for me, hm?"

Leo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sure you'll end up doing whatever you like."

She stretched, patting his hand before returning to her drawing.

After a while, she stood up, bringing her work away. "Looks good."

She gently tore the drawing from her sketchbook. "Here, for you."

Leo accepted it, examining her work closely. He was even more impressed by the finished piece, by the details and life she had infused into the paper.

His brows twitched as he noticed something drawn beside a tree in the background—a silhouette of some kind. As he recognized what it was, his eyes widened.

He looked at Elizabeth, who was now packing up her tools. She paused, catching his gaze and flashing him a smirk.

"It was quite flattering being spied on like that," she said teasingly. "I would prefer it if you just came over next time, though."

Leo felt his cheeks warm, and he brought a hand to his mouth. "You're sly."

"And are you now realizing?" she said. "I'll be at the pond tomorrow morning so come for the medicine, then."

She left him blushing and wallowing in the embarrassment of the moment.

Leo had never wished so desperately to disappear from the face of the earth.