The smell of flowers was revolting. Every inch of the room was decorated with the damned cheery yellow flower. Beatrice decided she hated the color yellow. She rubbed a petal between her fingers, plucking it from its host.
Nothing could exist in the monastery without meaning. A chair was not a chair, but a threat. Tea was not tea, but an invitation. And a flower was not a flower. It was a message.
'Don't forget what you are.'
Asaemia.
Karin had started calling her that when he found the flower outside in the gardens. He brought inside an armful and decorated the entire monastery with them.
They were an ugly flower. The petals were small and bushy, reminding Beatrice more of a ball of cotton than a flower. The gardeners said they were weeds.
'It's not about the way they look,' Karin had told her excitedly. 'It's what they represent.'
The flowers could never die. They were resilient throughout the harsh seasons. They could even withstand the rainy season.
And, what Karin liked most about them, they poisoned the earth. Making it impossible for any other plant to grow within the vicinity.
Resilient little things.
'Just like you.'
Beatrice reached out and crushed the entire flower in her fist. She left the crumpled flower on her chair. A message of her own.
As soon as she stepped from the room, someone fell into a step behind her. Not Ascanio, the footsteps were too light for the giant, bear-like man. It wasn't Torin, he would walk by Beatrice's side. And it definitely wasn't Karin. He always walked in front of her.
And that only left…
"Gi, what do you want?"
The woman stepped from the shadows, wearing a sheepish smile. "It's time for your dress fitting."
Beatrice rolled her eyes. As the oracle, she always wore all white anyways. Why couldn't she just use one of the dresses already in her closet?
"Are you meant to be my stand-in mother?"
It was a ridiculous idea. Gi was only three years older. But it seemed like an idea Karin would have to appease her. Gi, Beatrice's church assigned friend. Everyone that came into close contact with Beatrice was heavily regulated by the archbishop. She had her church assigned friend, her church assigned family, her church assigned guards. Beatrice never had an opportunity to forge any natural relationships. Her entire life was spread out in front of her nice and neat so she would never wonder what her role was or wish for anything more.
"I'm your friend," Gi said, very quietly, sounding hurt.
Beatrice sighed. She wanted to rip out her hair. Everything in the monastery was so difficult. Gi was kind and friendly. But she also had frequent meetings with the archbishop. Beatrice knew that Gi was reporting on her movements, but she still could not find it in her heart to reject Gi's kindness.
Beatrice took the other woman's hand and held on tightly.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Gi grinned and threw an arm around Beatrice's shoulders. "We'll make sure you'll outshine even the gods on your wedding day."
The gods in Beatrice's head swore. "Don't say that, no one could compare with their beauty."
Gi spun, lifting the veil that covered Beatrice's face. Beatrice felt heat flush over her entire body and reflexively lifted a hand to cover her mark. But Gi's own hand stopped hers, wrapping her cheeks lightly.
"You could," Gi told her carefully. She gently lowered the veil back down, grabbing her hand and pulling her down the hall. "I wish you would stop hiding your beautiful face. My eyes suffer everyday for a lack of beauty, won't you give them some solace?"
Beatrice couldn't help but laugh. Her gods became a little quieter.
The dresses were waiting for Beatrice in her rooms when they arrived, lined up perfectly in a row. Gi instantly let out a sigh of satisfaction, immediately going to the most exquisite and ornate one. "You would look like a fairytale in it," she exclaimed.
Beatrice pulled the veil from her face and frowned. "I think it would suit you much more," she eyed the large red ruby that adorned Gi's forehead.
Gi sighed, pulling the dress from the mannequin and quickly assisting Beatrice into it. "You needn't always look so humble. Even the archbishop wears gold and jewels, why can't you?"
"They're heavy."
Gi snorted, "Your holiness, you should allow yourself more luxuries. You are a woman before you're a vessel to the gods."
Gi smiled at Beatrice's reflection in the mirror, smoothing the silk straps of the gown. "See? Beautiful."
Beatrice lifted a hand to her cheek. For a moment, she could almost believe it.
"As I thought," Beatrice sighed. "It would be more suited on you."
Beatrice was much thinner than Gi. She was too thin, it looked like she had never had a proper meal in her life. She always tried to hide it within layers of clothes.
"Your holiness, do you know why I spend time with you?"
"Because you were ordered?"
"No. Because I like pretty things. To be perfectly honest, your holiness, if you were ugly we would have never had a conversation." Gi pulled apart Beatrice's braid, letting the red hair fall around her shoulders. "I wish I could look upon that beauty everyday, but I suppose it will have to suffice that I can get chances like this. Oh I envy the husband that will get to look at my flower every night."
Gi had a way of speaking that made everything she said sound like it absolutely must be true.