AL knocked on the door to the meeting room. The door opened, and he took a step in together with one of his crewmates.

  There was a long table in the middle, surrounded by roughly twenty men. Maps were spread out, and on top of them were little figurines of different colors. They seemed to be in the middle of a strategy meeting, though the chair at the head of the table remained jarringly empty.

  AL couldn't stop staring at the man, who was watering some flowers with a watering can, “...”

  The man didn't fit in, yet he was there. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert. His eyes had a soft glow. His smile was warm. Pleasant. Disarming was the word that came to AL's mind.

  "...You have a green thumb, My Lord? That's unexpected," AL's crewmate asked, trying to touch the leaves of the pnt.

  "Don't touch it! It's poisonous," someone warned, spping him on the hand.

  "What?!" the man excimed, jumping away while holding his hand.

  “Do you like flowers?" Lucian asked, his back turned to AL. "Foxglove can either heal or harm, depending on the way you use it. The sea can get boring to look at after a while, I thought a touch of color would liven the pce up."

  "Foxglove...the name of this ship is Foxglove, right?” AL asked, “Was it named after the flower?"

  Lucian nodded, "A hidden danger in a pretty shell."

  "Was our ship named after a flower too?" AL asked, curiosity getting the better of him. They held a small ceremony for this, honored the ship’s past and called on the sea gods for their blessing, all for the sake of giving the ship a new name.

  Lucian turned around. "Bluebell,” he answered, "It's a delicate flower that's easily stepped on by those who are not aware of its presence. A flower that's easily ignored and underestimated. Did you know Bluebells have deep roots? They can even break apart rocky soil."

  "You must like flowers a lot, huh?" AL ughed awkwardly, scratching his head at his boss’s fondness for such a… feminine thing, "I'm here to report our numbers. We have a total of thirty men including myself: one quartermaster, one navigator, one boatswain, one carpenter, seventeen deckhands...”

  Lucian counted the debt the mercenary group owned him, and smiled. This was enough to cover it. In fact, he was gaining more than he was losing, "Not bad."

  He passed the watering can to one of his men and sat down on his chair.

  "We will use Bluebell to infiltrate this area of the Marindale's coast." He moved a little bell toward a certain spot on the map, "Familiarize yourself with the locals and learn the routes, schedules and the habits of the leaders of the area. We need to know who is loyal, who is willing to cooperate, who is willing to turn a blind eye, and who is willing to betray. I want the names, ages, number of family members, and weaknesses. Any questions?"

  "What is our goal?" someone from the group asked, "Are we going to overtake the Marindale's territory, My Lord?"

  "I'm just interested in the trade routes they occupy. Especially the underworld kind. Those are hard to come by, and it's better to have a few in our pocket. Just in case," Lucian expined. "I don't pn to fight them head on. We'll just take a little bite here and there. Nothing serious enough to warrant a war. A little nibble that they can tolerate."

  They discussed their pns in detail and Bluebell’s name suddenly began to make more sense to Alphonse. It was a flower that looked harmless, yet if you weren't careful, it could overtake your garden without disturbing the ecosystem like weed would.

  · · ─────── · ???· ─────── · ·

  Lucian returned to his office and sat down on his chair with a loud thud. It's been almost three months since he st saw her.

  He successfully stopped thinking about her, for the most part. When he was busy, that is.

  The sound of wings fpping reached his ears, and Lucian didn't have to open his eyes to know what creature was here.

  This bird was always the first thing to greet him when he sailed into the port. It hopped onto his desk, devouring the food he’d left for it, while he stroked its feathers and read the letter tied to its leg.

  'I was right,' she wrote, 'You are afraid. You don't want people to know that you were with a clown before. You are ashamed of who I've become, ashamed of being seen with someone like me. It doesn't matter, my expectations for you are already at rock bottom, but I suppose I still need to learn to lower them more.'

  Lucian almost spat blood from reading her words. He opened a secret drawer in his desk and tossed the letter inside, his eyes nding on the few crumbled ones. He picked them up and began to straighten them carefully.

  ‘Want me when I'm at my top, abandon me when I'm at my lowest...It's fine. I don't need your help anymore. Just don't expect me to be nice to you when I rise up again.’

  From threats to insults, then back to sweet nothings.

  ‘Give me back my heart. It's a crime to steal someone's organ.'

  He turned the letter around. 'Don't worry, you'll get your heart back when you give mine back.' He would write a response and leave it inside his desk to rot.

  Sometimes he could read her letters with a straight face, and other times he would want to ugh and cry at the same time.

  'I'm tired of chasing you, but I'm not tired of you. I'm just tired of everything else, but you.'

  How much longer could she keep this up before giving up? She started this routine two years ago. He wondered if it was because his movements became easier to track after gaining more fame, or if it was because, somehow, he had become more worthy of her recognition.

  He leaned back on his chair and stared at his hands that kept pushing her away. She wanted him to let go of something that had been holding him together all his life.

  Living in a circle of vengeance had stripped him of the ability to forgive and forget.

  She was asking for a miracle when she herself had been the one who showed him that miracles didn't exist.

  ╔═══ Author's note ════╗

  How difficult is it to trust someone you know is very maniputive? Celine and Lucian went into the retionship with ulterior motives but also because they liked each other.

  They don't know what is real and what is manipution, and have been stuck in this awkward state of uncertainty for a very long time. ??

  Communication doesn't seem to be a solution. So any other tips? ????

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