Colored is the rose of spring, white the rose of December.
Thorns
As
she put up her hair, Yukimi of Queenscove discovered a single,
plucked, rose on the table in front of her. She wonders what it
is for, for there is a vase not even a few paces away.
Examining the rose now, she discovers a thin sliver of parchment
wrapped around the stem, and realizes that the stem is devoid of
thorns. Unwrapping the parchment, she finds a note, in what was
obviously the writer's best handwriting:
A
white rose, to match the fairness of your skin, and the snow that is
falling around us. –Neal
Yuki smiled with the simple act of love. Her days had become monotonous and routine since the years that she had married Neal. She longed to be a part of Shinko's ladies again, free, and laughing. She was almost shunned in Queenscove, and Neal, who was often away, was the only person she could connect to that was actually around.
Picking the rose up, a small spot of blood appears. It seems that the rose, like beauty, still has thorns.