The Shattered Bond, A Meadow's Mourning

It was almost a week before the rain stopped. Though they wouldn't require watering for some time, Bloom's plants thrived under the torrent, their vivid greens blooming. When Julian came to visit that morning, the rain had barely stopped. Her body was covered in mud up to her arms and waist, and he discovered her knee-deep in the thick, adhering mud of the garden. Her face was speckled with soil, highlighting her features. Her long hair, which was logically secured in a bun to protect it from the dirt, framed her face with errant strands that had gotten out of its place.

She looked up and gave him a kind smile as he got closer to the gate. Her strange purple eyes glistened with pleasure. He grinned back at her, ignoring the abrupt skip in his heartbeat.

With a tone of sardonic amusement, she said, "I was wondering if you'd show up." "How could you pass up the opportunity on the first sunny day in ages?"

He laughed. I saw you swimming in mud as I was taking a walk to enjoy the fresh air after the rain. It appears... fascinating.

Mischief glinted in her eyes. She said, "I'm glad you think so," and then threw a wad of wet, sticky muck at him. It hit him right in the face.

He spat out grit, sputtering, and followed her into the fray.

Mud flew in every direction. No plant escaped a dirty baptism, and Bloom quickly thought of restoring one of her prized specimens when it was splattered by a particularly mischievous ball. She was covered in mud from head to toe five minutes into their spontaneous fight, but she had only hit Julian a few times.

"Isn't it good for you?" He smiled widely as he teased.

"And modest." The back of his head was thudded by a mud ball that had been aimed precisely.

"Hi!"

She avoided his retaliatory lob, and her laughter echoed. She mockingly said, "Come on, I thought you were a great, fearsome knight." "You can't hit just one girl?"

He objected, saying, "I'm not supposed to hit girls." "I'm meant to save them."

She hit him in the chest with her next shot. With a loud splat, he fell into the mud, already unsteady from changing his footing. He was able to sit there and glare at her with a feigned outrage because his torso was just tall enough to keep his head above the surface of the puddle. He said, "These were good clothes." "The cozy type. Since I have to sneak things in, I don't have many.

The air was filled with her slightly hoarse laughter from their struggle. "I'll wash yours, and you can wear the others I have." But you must take a bath first!

She waded over, offered to help, and pulled him up before guiding him to an irrigation pump close to the garden. She cleaned the filth from her face and arms and filled a trough with cold, clear water with swift efficiency. When she was done, she pumped new water for him and drained the murky contents. The trough was full again when Julian trudged over. With gratitude, he buried his head in.

She said, "I'll be right back," and went inside.

She rolled up the legs of her pants and kicked off her boots at the back door. After watching her run inside, Julian started cleaning his own arms of the muck. She came back quickly with a package under her arm and clean clothes now. "Here, try these on," she said, tossing them to him. They should fit because I'm too large for them. They belonged to Finn.

"Thank you." An apple tree obligingly grew larger to protect him as he stepped behind it. He threw off his soaked clothes and put on the new ones, which were well-fitting and, to his delight, his favorite blue color.

He said, "Decent," and the tree returned to its normal size. "Handy," he remarked smirkingly.

She smiled and said, "I'm known to have a few practical tricks up my sleeve."

He gave an eye roll. "Yeah, great, then boast about it."

"I'll."

He turned to see Moonlight trotting up to the fence after they were halted by a gentle plodding. Bloom's smile grew softer as she reached out to the kind horse, who gave it a loving nuzzle. She said, "Why don't you call Duck over so we can go riding?"

Julian blinked in disbelief. She didn't start riding. Usually he had to persuade her, and even then she grudgingly consented. Incredulous, he questioned, "Do I trust my ears?" "As a noble, are you really asking me to go somewhere?"

Her cheeks flushed slightly. "Well, if you choose not to..."

"Silly goose, of course I do. All I can say is that I'm shocked. Can't I be taken by surprise?

"No."

Her eyes alight, she mounted Moonlight with the ease of practice and pushed the horse into a run, making one circle before cantering back to Julian. "Will you be attending?"

He whistled loudly and sharply. Duck recognized the cry and came galloping over joyfully, but Bloom grimaced and covered her ears. Bloom and Moonlight took the lead, and Julian leaped onto the saddle and followed.

Their usual haunt, the small meadow beside the pond, was their goal. Only the cautious cheeping of birds coming out of hiding, apprehensive of another storm, broke the stillness.

Julian took a careful look at Bloom. In a way he couldn't quite explain, she appeared lighter and brighter, as though an unseen weight had been removed. Without reluctance, she slipped onto the damp grass, but he hesitated, not wanting to ruin her borrowed clothing so quickly. His hesitancy vanished with a laugh from her heart-shaped face, which was as bright as a sunshine. He took a seat.

He thought, I've never seen her like this. She has always been wary of me. And unhappy—so sad all the time. He knew that melancholy still weighed on her, but it was lighter now.

He ventured, "I have a question for you," after a period of silence.

"Go ahead and fire."

Does working with plants require you to sing all the time? Singing the corn taller is something I've seen you do occasionally, such as when we first met. Is it required?

The breeze danced with her soft chuckle. "Neither the flowers here nor the blue vine-plant grew because I sang." No, I simply like to sing in the garden. But sometimes it helps me concentrate. The tree branches above, which had been dripping on them, moved to protect their faces as she started to hum. She paused.

"Thank you."

"No issue."

Then they fell silent. His mind was racing with a thousand questions, but she appeared preoccupied. He said, "Silver for your thoughts."

Her face flashed with remorse as she jolted a little. She acknowledged, "I was thinking about my family." Drake Clearbrook, too. Even though he is dead, I can't help but believe that his punishment for his actions wasn't sufficient, even though it is terrible to say. Why he would murder my Darren is still beyond me.

"There are some people who are simply bad," Julian replied softly. "And evil exists everywhere—it has nothing to do with being noble or common."

Perhaps, she admitted, "but you know most nobles are conceited and haughty."

He gave a nod. "That's true enough."

"Nolan merely made an effort to keep me—and Darren—safe. There was nothing wrong with him. I was negligent and foolish, which is why Darren died. I will most likely always despise myself for it. Additionally, Seph was not involved in it. She had never been in a nobleman's manor before. I ought to have told her not to come.

"You weren't at fault," he added quietly.

"Was it not?" Anger directed at herself hardened her voice. You are unable to know that. You weren't present. I suffered greatly as a result of my carelessness. I can't put my trust in just anybody.

She got up suddenly and started to pace. From where he sat on the soggy ground, he demanded, "You can trust me."

"I do, and that's the problem," she shot back, frowning. Who's to say you won't murder me with some stupid thing you do? She became more agitated. "I must go."

He stood up. "Wait for me!"

She gave a headshake. Plants sprang up and rooted him to the earth as he moved.

"Leave me up, Bloom!" Although he wasn't totally surprised by her withdrawal, his voice was tinged with anger and hurt. "Bloom!"

She wrung her hands and said, "I need to think," as she moved in the direction of the horses.

"Bloom!" he yelled, his rage growing. "If you don't let me up, your garden won't produce any more living things!"

He immediately regretted his hasty remarks as their weight fell upon him as she froze.

"I'm sure you would." She turned slowly and whispered. "You all do the same thing: establish confidence, then betray it. I'm not sure why I believed you to be unique.

"I didn't mean—" he started.

"You did." She said in a final, lifeless tone. He felt a sharp melancholy instead of tears or anger when he saw the treachery in her eyes. "You're no different, even though you might not be the kind to hurt or murder. You can just take what you want, so why worry about other people's feelings?

"I apologize."

The apology persisted, helpless against the agony that was written all over her face. You might be right now. However, how often will you be?

It slipped out, Bloom. You are aware that I would never do that!

She shut her eyes. "I was mistaken, but I believed I did. Julian, good bye. She turned, jumped onto Moonlight, and rode off.

He looked helplessly as she disappeared. "Excellent work, Julian," he mumbled resentfully. "You've made a huge mistake this time."

Her tenacity made it clear that she wouldn't forgive him easy. He had fractured their link in a moment of careless ignorance, and once trust was broken, it would take work to rebuild. things was entirely up to him to fix things.

He sighed deeply, got on Duck, and rode away from the meadow.