28 Tea On A Sunny Day

"You have a lovely looking necklace; it looks somewhat familiar," Blossom squints her eyes directly at my neck. The sharpness of her eyes feels like there's a knife pointing on my neck and the thought of that makes me shiver.

"My aunt throws pieces of jewelry that are still in good condition; this one caught my eye, so I kept it," I replied, repeating the same thing I told her when she had asked me before. She must have forgotten about it already.

She relaxes her eyes and sits back on her chair. I feel relieved that she took that lie pretty well. I don't know how to start a conversation with Blossom today; she seems a bit off, keeping my mouth shut.

So I focus my eyes on our surroundings, the iridescent flowers, bushes of all shapes and sizes, and trees that bear all sorts of fresh, delicious fruits. This is such a beautiful garden, the most beautiful one I've seen.

I take a sip of the bright green tea that cools me down. Many would prefer a cold beverage in this burning weather, but I like tea to cool off. Tea soothes me, comforting my worries away.

"You know, I once had an exquisite necklace that it enchants anything and anyone around it," she shares with a bitter smile, " but it was stolen by someone who is terrifyingly awful."

"You must have fancied that jewelry so much," I give her a sympathetic look, tilting my head.

She catches my look and stares at my eyes, "I did."

Like the look of a person who lost a parent or a pet, Blossom looks miserably distressed. The necklace she lost must be something that she holds dear. Like how this necklace is valuable to me, for it belongs to my mother.

"Blossom," I started, but she holds her hand up, pausing whatever that I planned to say.

She shakes her head disapprovingly with her arms crossed on her chest; I'm left confused. Does she know what I'm about to ask her? Can she now read my mind?

"You see, Rose, I don't understand why everyone would call me just by my name. I'm sure that everyone's aware of my position, and I shouldn't be called just Blossom."

My jaw drops. Has she always felt like she wasn't respected? She did tell me to call her by her name because she wasn't anyone special; she was only given the task of caring for the castle. And everyone I know would call her by her name, so I thought it was fine by her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" she holds her hand up to cut me out again.

"Forgiven, please resume what you were saying," she plasters a short smile before sipping on her tea. I do the same before asking to calm my nerves. Why is this conversation frightening. I've always been so comfortable with Blossom.

Placing the cup down, my fingers sat on my lap, fiddling with each other, "Ma'am-" I start looking up at her, and she nods approvingly. My cheeks start to burn bright red.

"If it is alright, can I revisit the Town of Tinkers?"

"Why?"

I swallow hard. Will it be okay to tell her about Frida? What excuses can I make? It hurts that I can't fully trust anyone here. Blossom allowed me to stay in the castle. Faye risked her life for Rhys and me; he's the closest friend I have. As much as I want to slap myself for being too afraid to trust, my gut feeling tells me so.

Blossom questions again, "why?"

"That night, because of sudden circumstances, I didn't get to explore the town, and I met a friend. I want to see her again," I explain myself with pleading eyes. I know that Rhys told me that Blossom ordered that I'm never leaving this castle. However, I still have hope.

"I won't allow it."

That was a quick rejection, and it threw me off a cliff, "but it won't happen again, I'll be-"

"We shouldn't take risks; we don't know when the next attack will happen. That night the attempt to capture you failed thanks to Rhys getting there in time. It's better to be safe than sorry," she insisted, and I can't help but say that she's right. I'm feeling entirely moved by her concern and over-protectiveness.

But I slouch on my seat, my strength fading away. I can't argue back, knowing that Blossom is only looking out for me. I don't dare push her aware of what the consequences might be the way she is right now.

I guess meeting Frida will have to wait; getting answers about my mother will have to wait. In the meantime, I should train harder to ensure that I'll survive another attack if it may come. I don't know how I stayed long enough for Rhys to show up that night. For all I know, I must know how to defend myself and possess my very own weapon.

"I understand," defeated and like a deflated balloon, I reply.

Blossom stands from her seat and extends her hand at me, "come, let's take a walk outside."

At first, I didn't know why she would want to walk outside under the hot sun, but she led me out as I took her hand. The sun was still shining above us, but I couldn't feel the heat; instead, I feel the calm wind softly blowing past us.

The trees and plants sway in the direction of the wind. The strand of hair that I would always leave out whenever I braid my hair continuously bothers my face. With a huff, I catch every strand and tuck it behind my ears.

I watch Blossom as I walk behind her. Her figure from behind looks stunning. Her large blue wings fluttering open and close gradually, her white dress that drags behind her is as clean as a whistle.

"Tell me. Rose Ann, did you have siblings?"

I quicken my pace to catch up beside Blossom, "no, I'm an only child; I did live with my Grandmother and Aunties."

"Grandmother?" she repeats out in confusion, and I nod, "I could have sworn she's dead. Tell me, is this grandmother of yours still in the human realm?"

"Yes, she is, Ma'am."

Blossom looks at me for a second and then looks away. She stands beside an apple tree as she lifts her hand, and a branch with two apples moves down to her reach. She plucks the apples and hands one to me; I thank her.

"How fortunate you are to be a single child."

A sad smile forms on my lips, "it gets lonely; no one will look up to you or will help you in times of need. I would love to have a brother, but I wasn't blessed with one."

"It won't be as pleasant when your father plays favorites," I can hear the sorrow and anger in her voice, "children should get equal attention from their parents."

Unsure whether she's referring to her family experience, but if she is, this would be the first time she brings up her origin. Whenever we had small chats, it would only be about me. I never had the chance to ask her about herself.

"You're right, ma'am, but I'm that parents would always love their children equally no matter how you see it," hesitant, but I voiced out my opinion. Blossom stops on her tracks to face me.

"And if you were blessed with a sibling that is more favored and your father gifts the both of you this red apple," she holds the freshly picked apple in front of my face, "only for you to take a bite out of the apple your sibling has already poisoned, you try to defend yourself, but your father won't believe you."

"The blame still goes to you, the one who was poisoned, the one who was innocent from the beginning."