Page 108 of The Last De Loughrey Dynasty

“White issuch a delicate colour on you.” I smiled at the face in the mirror that belonged to the boy standing in the doorway of my room. “You almost look like a lost soul flying beyond the veil between the living.”

I turned around, pursing my lips at him. “Do you go around often telling girls they look like the dead?”

My eyes moved down his body. Archer wore a black suit with a white shirt and a black tie that hung rather loose around his neck. A white rose peeked out of his breast pocket. I could lose myself in his image if I weren’t careful enough.

Without a word, he reached out for my hand and slipped a flower wrist corsage from his arm to mine. I inspected the flower on my wrist, and a smile grew on my lips.

“It’s a tradition at Aquila to give a person of value to you a white flower on May Day,” Archer explained. “While we honour the dead today, as a form to soothe the younger students from the fearful rumours of Aquila Hall being haunted, we also honour the living people we are grateful for existing in this life together with.”

I looked from my bracelet to the boy who had become so dear to me. “I don’t have a flower for you.” If I had known that today, we weren’t only celebrating the lost souls in an attempt for peace between the living and the dead, I would have bought him a flower.

The corners of his lips tilted up, and he stepped closer, picking the rose out of his breast pocket, holding it between his thumb and index finger. “I wear this rose in an attempt to convince the dead souls haunting us that I’m not of ill intentions and not worth their time praying for my doom. But if you’re so desperate to give the boy you’re longing for a flower, it’s all yours.”

Laughing, I snatched the rose from him. “Now, you’re putting words into my mouth, Mister Kingstone.”

“I am afraid your face is betraying you today, Miss De Loughrey, because longing is what your eyes speak when they lay on me.”

I narrowed my gaze as I felt heat rising to my cheeks, and when I looked at Archer again through my thick, black, tainted eyelashes, he grinned wholeheartedly. “My apologies. Am I making the lady blush?”

It took me a lot of self-control to not break out into a smile myself, so I simply pursed my lips, a little arrogantly and said, “I’m just hot.”

“Is it because of me?”

And I lost it. Hitting his arm playfully as I snorted. “You’re so arrogant sometimes.”

Archer’s face cringed in disapproval. “Don’t insult me, I’m always arrogant. Now, don’t you have something for me?”

I gave him a confused look and acted as if I hadn’t a clue what he expected from me. “No, I don’t remember wanting to give my rose to a stunningly arrogant man… there was this grumpy starboy I, however, planned to equip with a rose, but where did my starboy go…?” An amused smile crept on my lips as I tiptoed up and held him my rose under his nose. “Have you seen my starboy, or do I have to keep my rose until he returns to me?” I teased.

Archer pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Perhaps I should ask back for the flower I gifted you, I mean, if you don’t approve of thestunninglyarrogant man who gifted it to you…” He made sure to emphasise the wordstunningly.

“Nuh-uh, you can’t ask back for a gift. But until my starboy returns, I guess you can treasure his rose for him?” I put the rose back into his breast pocket and gently arranged the rose petals. “There you go.” I patted his chest and stepped back.

“Thank you, what a surprise, I didn’t expect a flower for myself today,” he said, holding out his arm for me to take. He led me outside, where the celebrations were in full swing. The younger students danced around a tree with white ribbons in their hands or played games, while the students who were part of the music programme the school offered, played their instruments so ethereal it felt like the melody was going right under my skin.

“I’m not a floral expert,” I said, looking down at the flower around my arm. “Why not a rose?” I wasn’t complaining, simply curious, since most of our classmates were running around with white roses as bracelets or in their hair.

Archer leaned his head down to me as we walked, so I could understand him better over the loud music. “It’s a camellia. The flower was far more fitting for us than a simple rose.”

My eyes moved away from his face to the beautiful flower that spread yellow from its centre, only leaving the ends of the petals in a bright white. “And why is that?”

A cold breeze brushed through my hair and pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulder. I kept pushing them back in place. Even though I didn’t want to acknowledge how much this whole situation was gnawing at me, I noticed the physical consequences. My appetite had diminished to the point where my dress wasn’t fitting as well as it did a month ago when I bought it. Most mornings I woke nauseous and in a cold sweat from the dreams and anxiety that haunted me.

“Roses stand for love, camellias symbolise longing.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Suddenly, I wished there existed another reality where he could have gifted me a bracelet with a beautiful rose at its centre instead of a camellia. A reality where I didn’t feel myself looking at him with such longing in my chest. To rest in his arms and never let go of him again. We tried so hard to be friends, but the unspoken truth burned our very souls, torturing us.

“Is it cruel that I had moments where I wished that this fate would have been heaped on someone else than us?” The words tasted rotten in my mouth. I felt disgusted by this selfish thought, but at night, when the stars were calling our names for us to admire their beauty, the wish of someone else bearing this curse lay on my tongue more than once.

“No, Doe. It’s human, and you’re not alone with that thought.”

MayDay at Aquila felt similar to a fever dream. Everyone danced and games were played that were rather entertaining to the youngsters. Entertaining to the oldest were the champagne that some students had bought in the city. I’ve only ever tried alcohol at family events when my older cousin gave me a sip of his drink.

We sat outside in a group with our classmates and sipped from our champagne that was hidden in plastic cups. Since today was also a holiday, the professors let us mostly be to ourselves and sat in their own little circle where they kept an eye on the first-years.

“Everyone knows, Mrs Fanning can’t shut up for the life of her. You wanna know what I’ve heard?” Nieko asked from his seat on the outdoor sofa, his legs lying over those of his friends.

---