Forget-me-not II

The sun's rays evaded Seren's room through the drapes, causing Seren to flinch and toss around for a while, trying to go back to sleep before finally giving up.

She woke up and started her morning routine.

She got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, and style her hair into a simple bun, securing it with a hairpin. Later, she walked downstairs silently to the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

She was a good cook. Back home, the Marquis was expected to know how to cook and serve, so she had to take cooking classes, although she was a good cook, but she always failed to present the food in a visually pleasing way.

While cooking, Seren made a lot of loud noises with the kettle and pans, which made everyone wake up.

Soon after everyone sat at the table, Lotus, Bala, and Owen looked at each other, worried that the food seemed half decent, but to support Seren, they sat to eat, only to be surprised by the amazing taste of the food.

Owen served the tea, and when he served Seren, he noticed the hairpin.

“It is best suited for your hair,” he said.

She took the tea, sipping it quietly, blushing, and nodding.

“Thank you.” She mumbled.

After everyone finished their breakfast, they went on to do chores.

Seren asked the girls to help them, and they suggested doing the laundry.

She started with her room, taking the white laundry that needed to be cleaned.

She glanced over something by the window and decided to double-check it.

She dropped the laundry basket, became stone, as if she had been struck by Medusa's hair.

There was a small paper above it, flowers of forget-me-not.

She hesitantly extended her hand to reach the edge of the paper, her fingertips touched it, but she quickly pulled her hand away.

She took the laundry and ran away to the other rooms, and took their laundry, trying to distract herself with what she saw.

She got outside to clean the laundry, where Owen was gardening, and he saw her carrying laundry twice her size.

He stopped what he was doing to see what she was doing.

Owen watched her struggle as she was aggressively scrubbing a shirt, arms soaked, cheeks puffed in frustration.

He walked, leaning against a tree, smirking, “Did the cotton insult your family?”

Seren glared at him and threw a wet sock at him. But he dodged it and chuckled.

He rolled his sleeves up and crouched, offering to teach and help her, and she agreed.

She watched him in admiration, explaining how to do laundry and clean it professionally.

She smiled, mumbled, thinking Owen won't hear her, “I really like you.”

He burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing!?”

“Because you don't randomly just confess to someone on a random cleaning day,”

She glared at him, her face flushed, so she lowered her hand and cupped some soapy water and splashed it on him.

He gasped, “I didn't see that coming!” He splashed her back.

She giggled. After some time, they finished washing the laundry and hung it together. They finished hanging the last garment.

Owen said, “I like you, too.”

“I know.” She replied.

Days passed by, and Seren continued to find the letters with the forget-me-not flowers: some by the window, some in her apron, and some even on her pillow. Her reaction was stoic at this point. She hid them in her nightstand, ignoring them, and tried to keep herself busy to avoid them.

It had been weeks since they had lived here, and she didn’t want to change this life. She fought, yelled, and screamed to be heard, but no one listened, so if forcing her into a frame was their answer to her demand, her reply was to leave the picture as an answer for them.

But the forget-me-not nightmare kept hunting her, she had a lot of letters.

Her appetite shrank through the days, and she couldn't sleep properly, tossing through the night.

Repeated nightmares occurred, where she was a teen again, collecting blueberries in the nearby forest. Then she noticed a bush of forget-me-not flowers, and she started collecting them happily, but then suddenly the bush started consuming her, saying, “I will come to take you.”

She finally reached a breaking point when she was haunted by the same nightmare one night. She yelled in her sleep, causing everyone to wake up and rush into her room.

They found her crying, hands gripping her hair. Lotus quickly held Seren's hand. Bala went to the bathroom and brought a pot filled with water, then they splashed Seren's face.

She woke up, looking at everyone, tears streaming down her face.

“I love this life!” She coughed.

Wiping her tears with the edge of her sleeves, “I don't want this to end,” she hiccuped.

“It won't,” Lotus said, raising her hands and cupping Seren's face.

Seren shook her head. Bala extended her arms to Seren and hugged her.

Owen patted her head.

“Look at us, we are all here together,”

She tried to calm down. Her inhales were interrupted by coughing and hiccups. When she finally calmed down, she said in a robotic tone, “The fires that happen in my country are not natural.”

“It was arson done by a Duke,”

Owen watched her struggle; the sheer fear in her eyes said everything about that duke. “You don't need to talk right now,” he whispered.

She took a deep breath and shook her head, “No, it is about time.”

She explained that the fire was a statement, a reply to a request she had declined, but her father refused to believe her since it seemed that she was talking based on her feelings and not evidence.

Some time before the fires occurred, a Duke from the neighboring country requested her hand in marriage, but she declined. After the decline and before the fires happened, he had sent her a bouquet, specifically forget-me-not flowers.

She also confessed that she had rejected him before this rejection. The first time he requested her hand in marriage. He brought her a necklace with a forget-me-not flower design.

“If he were a good dude, I would expect him,” she said.

“He is a nasty stalker.”

“When the king asked you, why did you not answer?” Owen asked.

“Because my father is right, I am a noble, but not a Duke.”

“I can't throw accusations without proof.”

“Especially when to the public he saved my brother…”

Owen recalled the dots on the map where the fires took place, which also made a forget-me-not shape. “Maybe we can collect evidence now,” he thought.