Page 47 of Scars and Crowns

Red.

Tiny droplets of water still cling to the petals.

He must have cut it from the palace garden this morning. He kneels until they're eye level before holding it out with a quiet ceremony. "Flower number two."

Sara gasps dramatically. "What?"

He smiles. "We've already collected a daisy." He gently places the rose into her waiting hands. "And now . . . a rose."

She accepts it with both hands as though she's receiving a royal honour. Immediately inspecting every petal. Every leaf. Thankfully there’s no thorns. Finally she nods. "I like this one."

"I thought you might." She grins.

Then, without a word, tilts her head toward him. The movement is so instinctive that I don't even understand what's happening until his hand reaches up. He brushes one loose strand of hair gently behind her ear.

My breath catches.

Sara freezes. Not because she's uncomfortable.

Because she lets him. She doesn't pull away. She doesn't wrinkle her nose. She doesn't complain. She simply stands there.

Perfectly content. For two years . . . no one except me has been allowed to touch her hair.

Not teachers. Not neighbours. Not affectionate aunties who believed every child enjoyed being fussed over.

Sara always politely stepped away. "My hair." She'd say seriously. "My rules."

I'd learnt to laugh about it. Eventually everyone else had too. Yet here she is . . . standing absolutely still while Yuvaan smooths her hair back with effortless familiarity. As though she's never known there was a rule at all.

Something inside me aches unexpectedly. Not painfully. Just . . . Softly.

Because somehow, without either of us noticing exactly when it happened . . . He has quietly found his place in parts of her world I never imagined anyone else would be invited into.

Sara studies the rose one last time before looking up at him again. Her expression suddenly grows serious. "Mister."

"Hm?"

"You'll take care of Mumma while I'm in school?" The question is asked with complete sincerity. Like she's assigning someone an important responsibility. He doesn't laugh. Doesn't tease. Doesn't brush it aside.

He answers her with exactly the same seriousness. "I always will." Their eyes meet for one silent heartbeat. Some tiny agreement passes between them. One that doesn't need words. I look away before either of them notices my eyes stinging.

The teacher at the gate calls for the new admissions.

It's time.

Sara slips her little hand out of Yuvaan's. She immediately finds mine. We walk the final few steps together. I kneel in front of her one last time. Straighten her collar. Even though it doesn't need straightening. Smooth down her sleeves. Even though they're perfectly fine. Adjust her hair. Even though it's exactly how it should be.

Anything to delay letting go.

"You'll have so much fun." I smile at her. "You already know how brave you are."

She nods. Completely confident. As though she's the one reassuring me. "I know."

Of course she does.

Then she hugs me. Quickly. Tightly. Before turning around and marching confidently toward her classroom without the slightest hesitation.

I watch her go. She doesn't look back. Not once. I laugh softly to myself.