She was radiant like the sun. Her chocolate eyes where sprinkled with gold streaks, and her velvet hair curled around her neck. Her strawberry lips, sweet and tender, matched the blush that enveloped her cheeks from time to time. And her slightly crooked nose, matched the bewitching sight of her strange, yet mesmerizing eyes. She was the most beautiful woman, with the rarest talent to ever exist.
She was named Flores. With a touch of her hand, and a word from her lips, she could turn any flower into a powerful wish. Once grinned into a powder, a single flower could produce one of three wishes; happiness, love, or peace. Each a different color only visible to her, yet tasteless and odorless. But with each wish, came a price, as do all magical things. For each cookie of happiness, a person she loved would feel devastated; for each muffin of love, they would feel despised; and for each little cake of peace, came a deep war.
When she was young, her parents found out about her magical talent. They tried to harvest it and teach her to do good things with it, but each and every time, one of them succumbed to the effects of the wish. Hoping to reverse the wish, the one affected would eat the baked good, but the effect never came, and only worsened their state.
Fearful of her talent, the daughter swore to never create a wish again, that is, until she met him.