Rosalind hesitated as Theo extended her arm. She eyed Theo’s hand warily before slowly extending her own to take it. Alexander took this as a good sign.
Theo glanced at him. “I think it would be good for us to stretch our legs.”
“Of course.” Alexander began to walk towards them when Theo titled her head.
“Alone, if you do not mind.”
Alexander stopped midstride. He felt unsure about this request. “Alone?”
“Yes,” she said gently. “We will not go far. We would like to speak more freely without you hovering.”
He opened his mouth to protest. His sister blushed and pursed her lips and Theo smiled sweetly at him.
Too sweetly.
Alexander lifted a brow at her.
Despite his doubt, she was right. Rosalind needed space. And Theodora… had earned a bit of his trust.
He exhaled slowly. “Very well.”
Theo smiled gratefully, warm enough to undo him entirely.
“We will be back soon,” she promised.
He looked at Rosalind who gave him a small, reassuring nod. Alexander stepped aside, watching as the two ladies walkeddown the garden path, their skirts brushing the grass. Rosalind’s soft voice could be heard answering the question Theo had asked her. He reminded himself to thank Spencer for recommending that all this time Rosalind just needed a friend.
* * *
Theodora walked beside Rosalind at a slow, comfortable pace, letting the girl choose the rhythm. There was no urgency or pressure. Only the quiet rustle of leaves and the faint hum of bees drifting between each blossom. Rosalind paused beside a cluster of pale-yellow flowers.
“These are primroses,” she said softly. “They bloom early.”
Theodora admired the way Rosalind’s fingers hovered just above the petals, as though touching them might disturb something sacred.
“You know all their names,” she said. “That is a lovely skill. Did your mother teach you?”
Rosalind shrugged, though her eyes softened. “Yes, Mama taught me. She said every flower had a personality. Primroses were shy. Peonies were dramatic. Lavender was loyal.”
Theodora smiled. “My mother taught me how to read.”
Rosalind looked at her then, and for a moment, they simply held each other’s gaze. They were simply two daughters carrying the quiet weight of memory.
“It seems mothers teach us the most important things,” Theo said quietly.
“Yes, they do,” Rosalind agreed.
They continued walking as the breeze tugged playfully at their hair. Rosalind pointed out and named each flower they passed. Foxgloves, hydrangeas, sweet peas, and Theodora found herself genuinely charmed by the girl’s knowledge.
“Do you read?” Theodora asked after a moment.
“I used to,” Rosalind said. “But I stopped.”
“Why?”
Rosalind hesitated. “I just… lost interest.”
Theodora understood. She too was going through a reading slump. “That happens. It is quite common, actually. Our interests shift and they return when they are ready.”
