Scars of the Past, Seeds of the Future

Bloom was ill. She knew those impoverished girls. To get to her, this monster had killed and raped them. In a perverse sense, she was to blame.

Naturally, Sir Valiant became your friend after that. Clarissa Bartlett learned of his dreadful threat and, of course, took action. Your confidence should have been shattered by that, but you're much too independent. Malice warped Drake Clearbrook's smile. "I enjoy a good challenge, and you've shown yourself to be a formidable opponent.

But now, he said gleefully, "we're going to kill him." And then, one by one, your family, culminating with that adorable young daughter. Your granny and her stupid son come next. I'll teach those two robbers who got inside my dungeons the cost of getting out. You'll watch as I gradually torture and murder each one until you break—and even beyond that.

Bloom looked at him in horror. She fell to the ground at the thought of such needless killing.

Julian yelled, "Leave her alone," in a gruff, defiant voice. Bloom raised his head, gaining courage from the ferocious sparkle in his eyes.

Clarissa Bartlett let out a melodious, ruthless chuckle. "The courageous lion says! How long will it take him to scream?

Julian went pale.

While the evil nobility reveled in their apparent triumph, Bloom realized she needed to take action. Fortunately, neither she nor Julian hinted at the movement behind them.

The thorny tendrils of the rosebushes snaked toward Drake Clearbrook and Clarissa Bartlett as they stirred in silence.

As a vine twisted around Clarissa Bartlett's ankle and cut deep into her flesh, she screamed in her ears. Rivers of blood ran down her foot. She was lifted up and dangled upside down as the vine tightened.

The cry was impossible to miss, and Drake Clearbrook jumped away from the vines that were grabbing for him. He pulled out his sword and cut through the overgrown vegetation.

The muffled moans of Clarissa Bartlett continued as blood trickled from many puncture wounds. Despite her violent thrashing, the vines remained strong, and her struggles just made the wounds deeper.

Julian pulled the dress sword from its scabbard at his hip with a hiss of steel. Bloom was startled to see him armed for the first time. He had always exuded gentleness, but now he exuded danger.

He reached inside his boot and took out a large knife, pressing it into her hand. "Try to divert his attention," he whispered.

She responded in a whisper, "I'm working on it."

Her rose vines, however, failed. They were frozen in mid-strike as Drake Clearbrook used some gift against them. They hovered in midair, still.

Drake Clearbrook stepped forward, threatening. "Did you think you could stop me, little flower?" A copy of him broke off abruptly, followed by another, and another, until a dozen Drake Clearbrooks surrounded them. His voice reverberated from all twelve, concealing which was a ghost and which was real.

A dozen mouths rang out with laughter. They mocked, "Isn't that a pretty little trick of Clarissa Bartlett's?" "It won't help to tie her up. Stop screaming; it's only a little blood, sweetie. You will call the police.

Hemming the pair in, they smiled and closed in. Which was authentic? Bloom went into a panic.

Out of nowhere, a storm developed. A few rosebushes were burned by neighboring lightning cracks. Before long, sheets of rain fell.

Bloom and Julian stood side by side, with similar Drake Clearbrooks around them. Then, suddenly, Julian yelled and slumped, frozen in place.

"Have you noticed that you've saved him?" Drake Clearbrooks made fun of it. "It will be entirely your fault if he dies."

She was hit by an unseen force. She let out a cry and fell at Julian's feet, her carefully combed hair coming loose and lilies falling on the floor in front of her.

Once more, Drake Clearbrook hit her, almost rendering her unconscious. She gasped and stared at those blooms, her son's gifts. She called forth memories of her loved ones, Sarelle, Gail, Finn, her new family, Darren, Nolan, and Julian, from her heart, where friendship and love thrived. As Drake Clearbrook delivered another invisible blow, the heart lilies suddenly flashed with a purple light, strengthening her eyesight. She clung to the knowledge that she was loved—and loved in return—this time. She got up with a groan of agony and determination, her eyes burning with an inner light.

Her brilliant look caused Drake Clearbrook's eyes, which totaled thirty-four, to expand in surprise. She directed a last burst of energy from the lilies toward Clarissa Bartlett. The woman sagged in her thorny restraints, unconscious. Before her, everyone but the Drake Clearbrook vanished, and Bloom bent to get the knife.

Her voice was low and deadly, almost casual, as she added, "You thought you could break me by killing those I love." Drake Clearbrook took a step back. "You were mistaken, but you were near. Yes, I might have perished or gone into despair. Even if you would have received your prize, you would have ultimately lost.

A power greater than herself held Drake Clearbrook rigidly.

Have you ever shown unselfish love? Did you experience generosity or kindness for its own sake? No? Not, I thought.

Then listen: I will not murder you tonight—not out of mercy for which you are unworthy, but rather as a gesture of goodwill. Maybe you'll remember this and take a second look at your life. It's feasible, though I doubt it.

The only reason you will survive is because I am not like you. Your destiny is now in the hands of the gods.

And it did. Bloom was aware that he was being held by a divine entity, one or more of the higher powers of the universe, who were waiting to decide how to punish him.

With amazing suddenness, the unrelenting rain stopped. The sun's last rays peaked through the clouds and brushed Bloom's face like a gentle touch. The dying wind carried a faint whisper:

Love and live.

A wise one.

Love and live.

Drake Clearbrook fell to the ground.

Disregarding him, she fell next to Julian's motionless body, tears streaming down his cheeks. She ignored the mud that smeared her cheeks and caked her clothes and hair. She had acted instinctively and suppressed thoughts of his prone body at her feet during the battle. Now that the battle was finished, panic took hold of her.

She held his lifeless head in her lap and whimpered, "Julian." "Awaken, Julian. Wake up, please, please, please. Don't abandon me. You must not abandon me here!

His breathing were feeble and faint, so she put her fingers to his pulse. She gave him a light shake.

"Julian!"

In desperation, she pinched his nose, put her mouth over his, and pumped blood into his lungs.

He gasped, a strained, trembling air filling his chest as she withdrew.

"Julian!" She kissed every square inch of his face she could, her cries mixed with laughter. She looked into the glittering depths of his eyes as they flitted open.

"I think I'll develop a habit of doing this if it's how I'm woken up every time I'm knocked out," he rasped.

"You foolish—noble!" Through her tears, she grinned and gave him a passionate kiss in return.

She drew back, and he murmured, his voice still scratchy, "What happened?" "Where is Drake Clearbrook right now?"

She gestured. "Over there."

"Dead?"

She gave a shrug. "I have no idea, and I don't give a damn. I haven't looked. Nor was it a call of mine. She narrated the events quickly.

With a moan, he sat up and supported himself on her. "Whoa," he exclaimed. "The gods, eh?"

"And it's not the first time." She talked about how the day before, her family had gotten in touch.

"Then..." he began, his eyes glooming with worry.

She smiled and gave him a strong hug. "Goose! I cherish you. Even if I still adore Nolan and Darren, I will no longer be troubled by their passing. Where they are, I know they are at peace.

Tension dissipated as Julian relaxed. "All right. I detest seeing you depressed.

The gate was rocked by a sudden beating. With a sigh, Bloom rose up, his entire body hurting. They both felt like one big bruise as she helped Julian stand up.

Her mother, brothers, sisters, and a group of dignitaries were all in disbelief when they opened the gate.

With a hint of fatigue in her voice, Bloom stated, "We had—a bit of a situation here." "I think a nap would be nice."

She had destroyed her outfit. She was aware that a beautiful garment like that wouldn't hold up during the night. She thought of the seamstresses who had worked so hard on it. Both of her shoes were missing, showing through her tattered hem, and her hair fell disheveled across her face. The nobles were scandalized and gaped. Her flesh was probably bruised somewhere, and the scar on her back was clearly apparent.

Annelise then smiled. "You can ruin my party, Liliana!" Her laughter was gentle and unintentional.

Bloom let out a pitiful laugh. Her sister had a peculiar perspective.