The Flowers of Love Withers

First loves always end up dying.

This is the general truth, and it’s even more true among nobles. So, this is not a very interesting story. It’s not even a very uncommon one. It’s just a story, like a hundred others, about a love that blooms and then dies because of the careless flow of history.

Tiona Rudolvon met Sion Sol Sunkland for the first time at Saint-Noel Academy. She and her servant, Liora, had just arrived at the school, and a group of noble girls quickly surrounded them to make fun of them. Then Sion came and saved her, just like the story about the knight in shining armor. He put out his hand, both literally and figuratively, and she took it. He showed them around the island. For her, the event was nothing less than a way to be saved.

He helped her again at the party for new students and many more times after that. His kind, well-timed visits left a mark on her heart and may have made it almost inevitable that she would fall for him.

Every time her hand touched his, her heart would beat faster. His look, which was as clear as glass, always made her cheeks flush. Almost certainly, he was her first real love.

Sion was a nice boy, but his smile was even nicer. Kind, noble, and always honest, he was the perfect example of a good soon-to-be-king. As a prince, he knew that with his power came both a privilege and a job. He had very high standards for himself and thought that he could and should act in the right way. He turned into hero. And by doing so, he made the faults of the nobles in her own country even more clear.

Over time, she started to form a set of views, which were strengthened when she met Rafina Orca Belluga. As a noble, she wanted to be strong, but she wanted it to be righteous. Her new ideas were put to the test right away by the great famine that hit the continent.

There was a lot of diseases, the economy fell apart, people rebelled, and in the end, there was a revolution.

The voices of change came for her, and she had no choice but to listen. Her father’s death at the hands of plot pushed her to move forward, and she threw herself into the flow of change, despite being afraid.

Sion Sol Sunkland felt the same way. He got rid of a family that was corrupt to the core. He got rid of all the important people in the kingdom. He worked hard day and night to make a new country that would help people. What he did to and for Tearmoon seemed right and fair to her.

When though? When did things start to get different? As she stood next to him and watched him, she felt a strange…distance. She didn’t know the Sion she thought she knew. She got it, and she knew why. A wounded heart wasn’t healed by the balm of justice. Princess Mia, a classmate of theirs who was executed, left a mark on his mind.

Sion was strong and worked hard to stay that way. Because of his strength, he had to hide his pain from his servants. He may have even tried to hide it from himself. He wouldn’t or couldn’t say that he was hurt. But Tiona was aware. She already knew too much.

Because she looked up to him. Because she thought he was the best. Because…she had loved him for a very long time.

“He’s hurt, and I need to help him.”

She kept telling herself that over and over. She never had the guts to do anything. Sion was the great Kingdom of Sunkland’s crown prince. She was pretty much no one. He was too good for her. The truth was clear. Her role as head of the revolution and her work in Tearmoon’s politics were impressive, but they didn’t make her his equal.

But when it came down to it, those were just reasons. She was hesitant because she knew that Sion had killed Mia for her. This was the real, most important reason. The people who supported the ruler were the ones who killed Tiona’s father. To make up for this wrong, he took up his sword and went to war, putting his life and limbs at risk. He got hurt in that war, and it was because he was fighting for her. What right did she have to try to fix him when she was the one who hurt him? Even, how could she? Was she so selfish and mean that she needed to scratch at his still-hurting scar to feel better? How many times had he seen her face and then thought of Mia’s, which was bloody and dead? How much of his pain was caused by her? How much more pain would she cause?

Her worries slowed her down, and her age made it even harder for her to move. She wasn’t a kid. Even though her love was hot, it couldn’t break out of its icy cage of restraint. Rebuilding after a revolution wasn’t a walk in the park either, and she forgot about it in the end because she had so many things to do. All of it. Fear, heartbreak, and love itself. Then, when Sion moved back to Sunkland, his home country, they grew even farther apart. Even though they wrote to each other sometimes, their language changed. It used to be so casual that it was almost personal. Now, it is more formal and polite.

When Tiona heard that Sion was going to marry a young woman from Sunkland, her heart didn’t flinch. It didn’t move…at all. No regrets. No jealousy. Only her slow, suffocating loneliness and the sad but sincere hope that the girl to whom he swore would love her could heal that old, painful scar.

“…Ah…”

Tiona woke up. Still fuzzy from sleep, her mind tried to remember the dream she had just had. It seemed like an important dream. She shouldn’t forget it. She grabbed it and tried desperately to hold on to its shapeless contents, but they kept slipping through her fingers, just like dreams often did. Soon, it was gone, and all that was left was the irritating knowledge that something had been there.

She woke up and whispered, “What a strange dream…”

She couldn’t remember all of the details, but it had been strange. That was all she still remembered. Still, she put her hands on her chest and found a restless, aching heart with a fast, almost dangerous beat. What she thought would be a nice nap turned out to be much less restful than she had hoped.

She thought, “I’m probably still not used to sleeping here.” It had been three days since she and Mia’s group had arrived at Count Lampron’s house.

She put on a dress and left her guest room, but when she did, she saw that the door to a closed room was also open.

“Oh, Your Highness…”

Princess Mia Luna Tearmoon, who had been beheaded in a dream she had forgotten, came through the door with a scared look on her face.

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