Let's keep chugging along with these. I'm aware that there may be grammar/spelling issues but I am updating this from my phone so it's a little hard to kee track of that stuff. Also, same rule from the previous story applies - if you have an idea or prompt for a chapter, please tell me!
Things were different now. Queen Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca had twin sons now, with an Archadian imperial guard! How scandalous. That rumored guard was actually Judge Gabranth, but Larsa was never one to let a secret escape. His two day visit would be two days too long, for children were not particularly the emperor's favorite thing.
He rushed quickly out the door, Gabranth himself yelling for the gangly man to "Hurry, hurry!" - not because there was a terribly important flight to catch, but because the Judge was eager to see his children.
When Ria came home from her studies, she found the bedroom and connecting study in complete disarray. The blankets were on the floor, dragged halfway across to the closet - a sure sign Larsa had been late, stumbled out of bed and tripped over the sheets. He had grown into his long, noble bones quickly after taking position of emperor, but his awkwardness had not subsided after all these long years. Tripping and stumbling were two things he did well.
She made the bed and gave the laundry to a maid girl, then went to the bathroom to survey the mess. To her surprise, the room was clean and smelled of sanitizers used by the Poison Kitchens to clean. On the polished stone counter sat a crystalline vase, shaped like a triangular prism. Inside was a single black rose resting in the water. Ria went to touch the petals and found they were silky smooth and soft, not unlike a regular rose - yet there was something different about it. Something that had more resilience, more of a toughness about it, yet was softer than ever.
A torn piece of thick paper was leaning against the vase. She picked it up and deciphered the loopy, lopsided royal script.
My dearest Ria:
Please accept this mere flower as a sign of my gratitude for everything you do. It isn't nearly enough, but maybe it will show my love and appreciation for you until I return.
She smiled and brought the rose out of the bathroom and set it on the dark wood nightstand. The next morning, a rather confused-looking guard brought her a similar carbon colored rose.
This tradition carried on, whether it be passively or directly that he hand her a flower - every day until Ria laid a bouquet of black, solemn roses on the late emperor's casket.
