However, the guilt still consumed her and the melancholy lingered until I couldn’t stand it.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
It was late as I guided us along the back streets of Elysia, away from prying eyes. Quen wrapped her arms around herself and I longed to pull her against me, but it wasn’t safe yet.
As we passed the park, a vast row of greenhouses came into view. They stretched beyond the horizon, glass misty from the humidity they held.
“Gray, what is this?” Quen asked, jogging to keep up with me as I strode ahead.
“You’ll see,” I replied.
Reaching the glass structures, I glanced around before opening the door and leading her inside.
“We shouldn’t be here,” she deduced.
Once Quen crossed the threshold, I closed the door behind us and wrapped my arms around her from behind.
“Probably not, but you’ve looked miserable,” I whispered into her ear. “You need to choose your flower.”
“I can’t.” She wriggled against my hold.
“Yes, you can,” I argued. Quen tried to turn in my arms, but I kept her facing the myriad of blooms. “It’s your right.”
I was desperate for her to accept her divinity and stop running from it. Fancy balls were only one facet of this life. Quen should enjoy every custom we offered her, and whereas Erik and Archer wanted to throw her in at the deep end and have her accept this was home, my golden girl needed gentle persuasion. Quen worked best when she believed she was in control.
“Gray,” she said, hesitation lacing her words before she sighed. “How am I meant to pick one?”
I knew part of her wanted to give in. Quentin’s ego wouldn’t allow her to completely shun the fact she was a Goddess. It just needed to outshine her fear.
Unwrapping her from my embrace, I took her hand and walked down the aisle.
“You’ll sense it,” I explained. “Trust your instincts.”
Her head turned left and right, taking in the blossoming blooms surrounding us. I pointed out Ig’s sunflowers and Sloan’s peonies, but she made us stop at my flowers.
“I still think these are my favourite,” Quen muttered, brushing her fingers against the black petals of the Odessa calla lily.
“You can have a never-ending supply of them, if you wish.”
I’d produce them for her every day. Vases of them until she had no space left. Whatever she wanted, I would strive to deliver. The desire to satisfy her every need grew stronger with each passing day until I was sure it would consume me entirely.
We walked through changing flora and fauna, with Quentin asking questions before she tensed.
“What is it?” I asked, becoming alert.
“Come with me.”
Quen walked with more confidence. She’d sensed it. Sensed the flower that called to her and would represent her. We weaved through the others before she stopped in front of it.
Orchids.
Her flowers were orchids.
“They’re beautiful,” she breathed, staring at the delicate petals that came in a range of colours.
“You wouldn’t have been capable of being associated with anything less.”
The pink coloured her cheeks as she looked at me. I gently broke off a flower from the plant and tucked it into her hair behind her ear.
