You've Arrived, Milady?
"You've arrived, milady?"
Lilliana's voice was as gentle as a spring breeze.
But my eyes were fixed not on her face, but on the scissors in her hand.
Red liquid trickled down the sharp blades.
It dripped onto the white marble floor with soft plips, staining it crimson.
"What... is that?"
My voice trembled as I asked. Lilliana glanced down at her hand.
"Oh."
She smiled casually and wiped the blades clean with a white cloth nearby.
The red stain spread across the fabric in an instant.
"Did I startle you? It's just flower sap."
"Flower sap?"
"Yes. It's from 'Blood Roses'—when you cut the stems, they ooze this red sap. Isn't the color lovely?"
She gestured to the basket of crimson roses.
Sure enough, the basket was piled high with decapitated stems, beads of red liquid welling up from the cuts.
Only then did I let out a sigh of relief.
"Haa... You scared me. I thought maybe you'd..."
"That I'd what?"
Lilliana tilted her head, her eyes gleaming transparently.
"Stabbed someone?"
"No, well... the vibe was just a little off."
"Hee-hee, no way. I'd never do that."
Lilliana set the scissors down and approached me.
With every step, the thick scent of roses wafted over.
She stopped right in front of my nose.
Her pink eyes looked up at me.
"I don't stab recklessly. Only when it's absolutely necessary."
If it's necessary, then you would.
That only made it creepier.
"Got it. So, what am I supposed to do?"
"In such a hurry."
Lilliana straightened my clothes as she spoke.
"Today, just help me trim these roses. Remove the thorns and strip the wilted leaves."
"That's it?"
"Yes. Simple, right?"
She handed me work gloves and scissors.
"Here you go."
I slipped on the gloves and took the scissors.
Manual labor? Better than nothing.
Nothing clears a cluttered mind like good, honest work.
We stood side by side and began trimming.
Snip, snip.
The only sound in the greenhouse was the cutting of blades.
Lilliana was skilled.
Every pass of her hands left the roses sleek, shedding thorns and leaves to reveal their smooth forms.
I, on the other hand, was a mess.
I'd nick the stem trying to cut a thorn or strip too many leaves, leaving them barren.
Even so, Lilliana said nothing.
She just stared at me intently.
A persistent, sticky gaze.
"Um, Lilliana."
I couldn't bear the burning scrutiny and spoke first.
"Yes, milady?"
"Are you... mad?"
Her hands paused at my question.
"Me? Why?"
"Well... because I vanished without a word."
I cautiously gauged her expression.
"I didn't even say goodbye before heading straight to the ducal lands..."
"Ah, that."
Lilliana resumed snipping.
Pluck.
A single thorn hit the floor.
"I waited."
"Huh?"
"In the waiting room. I thought you'd come after the trial. Every time the door opened, I looked up, hoping it was you."
Her voice was flat.
A calm tone, as if recounting someone else's story.
"But you never came. Later, I heard you'd already left."
"That was... unavoidable. They escorted me away immediately—no time for anything."
"I know."
Her reply was curt.
She gripped the scissors tighter and sliced off a stem.
"I know you didn't leave because you wanted to. It was the crown prince's orders, and the situation was urgent. I understand all that."
"Then that's a relief..."
"But my heart didn't."
Lilliana turned to look at me.
Her eyes were deep, sunken.
Not resentment, but something like a vicious thirst lurked within.
"I waited all day. Until the sun set, night fell, and dawn broke."
She took a step closer.
"Hoping you'd come back. Smiling and saying, 'Sorry I'm late.'"
"..."
Her voice was steady, but the words stabbed at my chest.
I parted my lips.
I wanted to make excuses, but my throat clenched—no words came.
"I'm sorry."
That was all I could manage.
"Really sorry, Lilliana. I wasn't thinking."
"Don't apologize."
Lilliana cut me off.
She set her scissors down and slowly approached.
"Apologies make it feel like you're someone else. Like you're drawing a line between us."
She stopped inches from my face.
Her gloved hand, stained with red rose sap, reached for my cheek.
I flinched but didn't pull away.
The cold leather touched my skin.
"You didn't do anything wrong, milady. It's just... I wasn't enough to hold you here."
Her thumb brushed my lips.
"So instead of 'sorry,' say something else."
"Something else?"
"Yes. That you'll never do it again. That you'll stay by my side from now on."
Her eyes pinned me obsessively.
No room for refusal.
Who knew what might happen if I said no.
I nodded, entranced.
"Okay. I won't leave."
"Really?"
The corners of her eyes curved softly.
"Yeah. Really."
I repeated it, and she nodded, satisfied.
"Good. I'll believe your promise, milady."
Her expression brightened in an instant.
The heavy air vanished, replaced by her gentle, spring-breeze smile.
"Now, shall we get back to work? There are still so many roses left."
Lilliana took my hand and led me back to the workbench.
"Your snipping was pretty clumsy earlier. Let me show you again."
She slipped naturally behind me.
"Relax your shoulders..."
Her hands wrapped around my shoulders.
The soft curve of her body pressed against my back.
Her warm body heat seeped through my thin shirt.
"Hold the scissors like this..."
Her hand covered my right one.
She wove her fingers between mine, adjusting my grip.
A natural back hug.
Her soft breasts against my back.
Her hot breath on my ear.
"See? Angle the blade obliquely..."
She guided my hand to a rose stem.
Snip.
A thorn sheared off cleanly with a crisp sound.
"See? Much easier, right?"
"Uh... yeah."
I answered, but the work wasn't registering.
She was too close.
Her hair tickled my cheek; her scent invaded my breaths.
My heart pounded.
I couldn't tell if it was nerves or something else.
"L-Lilliana. I think I got it. I can do it alone now."
I tried to pull away.
But she wouldn't let go.
Her arms tightened around my waist, pressing closer.
"Just a little longer. You're still clumsy."
"No, really, I'm fine..."
"Stay still."
Her voice dropped low.
"What if you get hurt? Are you trying to make me sad again?"
I couldn't argue with that.
In the end, I stayed in her embrace, snipping like a puppet on her strings.
Snip, snip.
The rhythmic cuts filled the greenhouse.
I had no will of my own—just followed her lead, stopping when she did.
Her body heat against my back grew hotter.
"That leaf is wilted. Eaten by bugs, poor thing."
Lilliana whispered in my ear.
Her lips grazed my earlobe, sending chills down my spine.
"Cut it off. Without hesitation."
Her grip tightened.
Pluck.
The withered leaf fell to the floor.
"Good job."
She chuckled softly into my ear.
"Unnecessary things like this must be pruned away. That's how flowers bloom beautifully."
Her words didn't seem meant just for the roses.
How much time passed?
The greenhouse air grew thick, hot, and humid.
My back was slick with cold sweat.
The pressure of being trapped in her arms.
Her breath, her heat, her scent.
It all bound me.
It's suffocating.
Even drowning in paperwork in Adrian's office would be better.
There, at least my body ached but my mind was free.
But here...
"Milady."
Lilliana buried her nose in the nape of my neck and inhaled deeply.
"You smell so good."
"..."
"I want it to always be like this... just you and me."
Her whisper shackled my ankles.
I swallowed dryly, thinking.
This volunteer work might be way more dangerous than I thought.
Adrian's honestly better.
For real.