"I guess so… I don’t know," Vivienne shrugged, tossing the pebble into the waves. "How are things in yourflower box?" she teased.
"It's a greenhouse, and you know it," he reprimanded, a playful smile on his lips. "Things are good. I'm dividing my time between the greenhouse and the gardens right now. My mentor wants me to run the prism project again this winter—which is a real vote of confidence."
"You've already been named an Official Royal Botanist," Vivienne responded. "How much more of a vote of confidence do you need?"
"Thanks for the promotion, but on paper, I'm anAssistantRoyal Botanist," he corrected.
She patted his arm. "I'm sure the 'assistant' part of the title will drop sooner than you think."
Lewis ducked his head, letting his hair fall forward, but not fast enough. The pink creeping across his cheeks betrayed him. Vivienne smirked, pleased she’d caught it despite his best efforts.
“Shut up,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I didn’t say anything,” she replied, stretching out her legs and letting the cool water slip between her toes.
The salty wind tugged at her hair as she tilted her head back, inhaling deeply. The scent of the sea clung to the twilight air, sharp and familiar.
Across the bay, the Vantner lighthouse stood watch, its beacon already flickering to life, casting golden streaks across the darkening water. She hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.
Beside her, Lewis picked at the frayed edge of his sleeve. “You know, most people spend a decade as assistants before they evendreamof getting promoted. Three years is barely enough time to?—”
“You don’t have to defend it,” she interrupted, more sharply than she intended. “You deserved the promotion.”
Lewis exhaled, shifting uncomfortably. “Yeah, well. So do you.”
Vivienne scoffed, letting her eyes fall shut for a moment.Have I?The path to an Official Crown Specialty was clear enough: declare an area of study, endure years of apprenticeship, and, once deemed ready, receive a mentor’s recommendation for promotion. From there, you became an assistant, spending at least a decade in that role before being considered for full recognition as an Official Royal Antiquary, Botanist, Surgeon, or any of the dozens of specialties.
For Lewis, it had taken only three years before his mentor pushed him forward from an apprentice to an assistant. For Vivienne, five years had passed, and her mentors—her ownparents—had yet to so much as mention a recommendation.
She pressed her lips together, fingers curling into the folds of her skirt.They don’t think I’m ready. Maybe I never will be.
Lewis nudged her foot lightly with his. “It’s not fair, you know.”
His voice was quiet, sincere. She looked at him, his golden-brown eyes reflecting the distant lighthouse glow, his expression caught between frustration and something softer—something that made her chest tighten.
Vivienne tore her gaze away first, fixing it on the horizon. “Come on,” she murmured, standing and brushing the sand from her hands. “We should head back.”
Lewis didn’t argue. But as they made their way up the path, his occasional glances told her he wasn’t finished with the conversation.
* * *
The last ofthe sun’s rays melted into the horizon, leaving a streak of amber across the sky as Lewis and Vivienne walked side by side. The cobblestoned streets, still warm from the day’s sun, pressed against Vivienne’s too-thin soles, a sensation both grounding and irritating. Lanterns flickered to life in the half-timbered houses lining the narrow road, their steep, pitched roofs silhouetted against the deepening twilight. Vantner was settling into its quiet rhythm, the hum of the day replaced by the soft chirp of crickets and the occasional distant ring of bells.
"I've been meaning to ask you," Lewis began, his voice casual. "I know you and Briar have been writing, but have you heard from your parents recently?"
Vivienne’s gaze flicked toward him, studying the way he tilted his head slightly, trying to sound nonchalant. “Define ‘recently.’”
He clicked his tongue. “Let’s say… in the last few months.”
Vivienne’s pace slowed as she considered her answer, the weight of the question suddenly heavier than she’d expected. “Ah, definitely not recently.”
Lewis frowned, he glanced at her sidelong, his voice softer now. “This expedition… it was supposed to be, what, seven months? Right?”
Vivienne nodded, keeping her focus straight ahead.
“And,” Lewis continued, with deliberate slowness, “they set sail last November?”
“Yes,” Vivienne replied quickly, her tone sharper than she intended.
