Lewis stood frozen, still gripping the shears, his knuckles white. His mouth parted as if searching for words, but none came.
Vivienne wrapped her arms around her knees, tucking herself into the smallest space possible. Her voice, when it finally came, was a broken whisper. "I can’t do this."
Lewis set the shears down with a soft clink before lowering himself beside her. His voice was gentle. "Which part, Viv?"
She gave a hollow laugh, pressing her forehead against her knees. "All of the parts."
"It’s a lot." Lewis nodded, absorbing the weight of her concern. "We’ll figure this out," he assured, though his voice held the faintest tremor.
"Figure it out?" She lifted her head just enough to stare at him. "How, Lewis? Everything is unraveling, and every time I try to fix something, it falls apart faster."
He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound formed. Lewis planted a warm hand on her knee.
Vivienne’s voice wavered. "My parents are still missing and they might be…"
She couldn’t finish the thought. Neither of them could. The unspoken word pressed between them, heavy and suffocating.
"And the only chance we have of finding them is…" She laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and broken. "Going on some ridiculous mission to break a fictional curse while racing against a crew of criminals."
"Things have… escalated quickly," Lewis admitted, adjusting his spectacles..
"To top it off," Vivienne scoffed, "I’m supposed to raise my cousin, who I haven’t even had time to talk to yet—after we’re evicted from our home, if I even survive this asinine quest."
Lewis pressed his lips together, his silence giving her more space.
"Briar comes back tomorrow," she whispered, her voice barely more than air. "And I have to drop all of this on her… and then leave the next morning. It’s not fair."
"It’s not," he agreed, his eyebrows knit together.
Vivenne’s throat tightened. "Lewis, what happens to her if I don’t come back?" She searched his face, hoping for an answer—hoping he would tell her something, anything, that made this feel less impossible.
His jaw tightened and uncertainty clouded his gaze. "Ever since King Berius cut the funding, I’m not sure what the care program for orphans looks like anymore."
Vivienne exhaled shakily, pressing her forehead to her knees. The dam broke again, silent tears spilling onto her dress. "I’ve been her guardian for less than a day, and I’ve already failed her."
Lewis’ grip on her tightened. "You listen to me, Viv."
She lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze.
"You have never failed at anything in your life. And this is not going to be the thing that tarnishes your spotless record."
Vivienne sniffled.
Fear flashed over Lewis’ features before he cloaked it with optimism. "I know you’re scared. I’m scared, too. But you’re not alone. We’ll do this together—like we’ve done everything for the past twenty plus years."
The greenhouse fell silent, save for the sound of Vivienne’s breath evening out. Lewis reached into his waistcoat and pressed a crumpled handkerchief into her palm. The fabric was high quality but terribly stitched—edges uneven, seams crooked. A clumsy embroidered leaf sat in one corner, barely identifiable.
She recognized it instantly.
Her first and last attempt at sewing. A gift she’d given him years ago. Vivienne lifted her head, resting it against Lewis’ shoulder. She breathed in his familiar scent—fresh earth, cedar, and something uniquely him. Her heartbeat finally slowed.
"This curse can’t be real, right?" she murmured, rubbing the handkerchief’s thinning material between her fingers.
Lewis let out a sputtering laugh. "I mean… after meeting the King, I kind of want to curse him myself. He’s very cursable."
A small, wobbly smile broke through. Vivienne shook her head, "I can’t believe you’re coming with me."
"Yeah, that was a major surprise." He chuckled, resting his head against hers. "But we’re a package deal." He tilted his face, smirking. "And the King was very clear, you can’t sail without your plant boy."
