A Deep Red Carnation Blooming From My Heart

"Are you sure you don’t want some? They’ll get cold if you don’t eat them soon."

My companion asked, freshly cooked meat skewers bought from one of the many festive stands in both hands.

"I’m good, and you shouldn’t eat food with this much fat so early in the day."

Biting off a piece, giving it a chew to judge how it tasted, and she stared at me with disappointed eyes.

"But it’s very good… And it’s not like we are having it every day, today’s a holiday so at least give it a try!"

Putting one of them in my hands, her stare was pressuring me to taste it, and the longer I waited, the more her disappointment turned into an upset frown. Then when I did put it in my mouth, something over my shoulder caught her eye. Standing on her toes to have a better look, a smile stretched back on her face. She grabbed my hand and dragged me over to another stand.

"Welcome! Oh, you two must be the ones who helped that wizard last night, it’s not like there are enough merling mages in the city to mistake you."

The stand owner laughed as he finished his sentence. Pies lined up on his table under a green and white fabric roof, and more were being brought out from a steaming oven in the back by the other bakers.

"And you also asked for the pies to be extra sweet, right? Here, have this, I hope you’d like it, and thanks for helping our friend out."

He sliced off a piece, then moved it onto a plate and slid it over. Joy rushed over her, her tiny hops made it look like she could almost take off.

"Really?! Thank you!"

With a plate in her hand, we walked back out into the open. The sunlight hitting it almost made the filling look like candy.

"There’s barely any oil or even butter in it, so nothing for you to complain now. Try it!"

She pushed it forward with a victorious gin. My face filled with hesitation, pushing the pie back.

"It can’t be healthy when it looks this sweet…"

The moment that last word exited my mouth, her smirk disappeared and she pouted her face, so innocent, yet it imposed more danger than I had ever felt.

"You really don’t know how to have fun, do you…"

Resisting felt like it would be a grave mistake, so the only option left was to brave through it.

There was a crunch when I bit into it, not from the crust but from the filling. The sugar had melted and turned into tiny sheets of candy glass scattered all over, and more were getting stuck to my teeth with every bite. The only saving grace were the berries and fruits.

"See, it’s good, isn’t it?"

Even nodding was made difficult, making it look like a cluttering mess. But somehow she didn’t notice, just happy that I gave her pie a try.

Noon was slowly approaching, and we started heading to the Grand Library for the play the wizard mentioned yesterday.

Passing through a few shops, she grabbed my hand and tugged, rushing over to one of the stores, pulling me with her. She took a straw hat from the racks and placed it on her head, spinning back to face me, her hands still grabbing onto the brim of the hat. Her robe flared out as she spun over.

"How does this look on me?"

###

The entrance to the Grand Library had been completely transformed, banners hanging off the roof and bundles of flowers tied to the window edges. Posters nailed into its wall, with people on the street handing them out. A small stand was set up just beside the main door, selling sandwiches for viewers to enjoy during the play that was about to begin.

The inside was similarly decorated, banners flowed down and flowers were hung up, placed carefully to not cover and dishonor the divine pillars being worshiped.

Other people had already found their seats, and we were the few still left standing. The rope that was keeping the burgundy drapes closed then got untied, and we quickly took our seats.

Hammer sounds grew louder and louder behind the drapes, the right one got swung open first, revealing a painter hiding behind the corner of a shack, her eyes drawn to where the hammer sounds were from, her glasses glinting off the limelight. The left curtain then lifted, and a smith sat behind, hammering away at hot steel, too focused to notice that he was being drawn.

He lifted his blade after a few more strikes, quenching it in cold oil while it was still blazing red. He closed one eye and held it up to check its straightness. Satisfied, he turned around for his tools, finally noticing the painter behind him, and his smile flipped, letting out a sigh.

"Why are you here? Again."

"To draw, of course, or what do you think I’m doing? To look at you?"

Placing the end of her brush up her cheeks. The smith ignored it, turning left and sitting down to polish his newly forged blade.

"Hmm… Always this rude to me…"

As the smith finished polishing, the painter was also done with her painting, picking it out and walking over to him.

"What do you think?"

Barely sneaking a couple glances as he fitted his sword with a crossguard and handle.

"It’s fine."

"Just that? Do you not know how to please a lady?"

He gave another long sigh and continued assembling his sword, hammering in the pommel pin. Horse gallops then closed in, and a man in armor rode in.

"It’s good to see you again, and I see you already have the sword ready. Fantastic!"

The smith stepped forward and kneeled, presenting the sword.

"Yes, my lord, and I hope it is up to your expectations."

The man got down from his horse, accepted the blade and examined it, unsheathing for a few test swings.

"It certainly is, I expected nothing less from you."

The light shifted, and the painter’s glasses flashed. She gave a deep bow as the lord noticed her.

"And this is a friend of yours? So you finally went out into town and stopped relying on your elderly mother for everything, haha. I will leave you be then, and I hope to receive another sword from you another day."

The lord got back onto his horse and galloped off. They stood back up, the painter turned back to the smith with another smirk, like she already had an insult ready to make fun of the smith.

"Didn’t know you…"

He glared back, with fury ready to be unleashed if she spoke one word wrong.

"...were famous, not everyone can make deals with lords, right?"

His expression dropped, not expecting that response, but the painter's grin only widened, closing her eyes and walking circles around him.

"How about this, if you can make a sword from that drawing I gave you a few days ago… you can have my hand in marriage."

His expression completely shifted again, the painter hitting right after he lost his guard.

"What!? Why would I…"

"So you can’t make it, guess you’re not that great of a blacksmith after all."

"What? Of course I can, it’s that…"

"It’s a deal then!"

The smith let off a surrendering "fine" and headed back into his shack, packing up a few tools.

"Where are you going?"

"The woodcutter doesn’t sell wood with the color you want for the handle, so I’ll have to find it myself."

Flipping his sack onto his back and turning around, the painters stood there, a little stunned.

"You remember how it was?"

He stared back, not understanding why she was so surprised.

"I do, most of it."

***

The drape closed over, and the scene changed into a woodland opening. The painter had another canvas set up, brush in hand, and the smith was further in the back, searching through branches and bushes.

"You could help me find the wood that you want, you know."

"I’m a painter, how would I know what they look like?"

She was barely listening to what the smith was saying, her eyes focused on her canvas. Hastily added a few more strokes of paint, she grabbed the finished painting, and rushed over to him.

"You like this one?"

Giving it a few good glances, he resumed searching.

"It’s good."

"That’s it? Nothing more to add? At least it’s better than ‘fine. Let me pack up my brushes and I’ll look with you."

She turned around for her art supplies, but a slight slope made her misplace her footing, losing her balance and falling into a short cliff behind. The smith tried to grab her hands but wasn’t fast enough.

"You’re not hurt, are you?"

"No, I’m fine…"

The painter gave the back of her head a rub to ease the pain, then pressed down onto the ground to try and stand. Then there was a snap from the breaking of a branch, she looked down to see what it was, a wood colored golden yellow stared back under the bark.

"I think I found the wood we need…"

***

The drape closed over again, and the scene changed back into the smith’s shack, quenching and assembling the blade.

"There, the sword you asked for."

The painter grabbed the sword, admiring its every detail.

"You know, people usually gift rings when proposing, but I guess I can accept a sword as well…"

She charged in for an embracing hug, and the drapes closed for the last time. The performers came out and bowed as the audience clapped. The warmth from a few days ago returned, and I have reached a confusing conclusion. Is this love I've been feeling this whole time? But for who?

Then my companion gave my sleeve a tug.

"Did you like the show?"