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The orphanage once known as Mother's Garden had changed so much this past year, Agnea thought as she and Alrond followed the elderly guard inside. As Partitio had promised Throné, he donated large sums of money to transform it into a place of joy, and it was now under the purview of Alrond and the Church. Two laughing children dashed before Agnea, and she caught a faint smile on the elderly guard's face.
"This place really has changed, hasn't it?" she said aloud. "It feels so much warmer."
"Like the Church, I had no idea of the darkness that lurked right beneath our noses," Alrond said, frowning. "As lord of this town, such ignorance is shameful."
"A few clerics came close to uncovering the truth, and Mother… dealt with them," the elderly guard muttered. "That can't be forgotten, but one is never too old to change, eh?"
"Oh, it's Agnea Bristarni!"
A group of children approached Agnea and the others, staring up at her, wide-eyed, and their smiles betrayed none of the trauma they had endured. Briefly Agnea wondered what Throné would think if she could see this orphanage now. "It's nice to meet all of you!" Agnea said to the children, smiling brightly. "It's so lovely here!"
"Agnea will be performing tomorrow at the dancer's guild," Alrond said. "Naturally, you are all invited."
The children cheered, and Agnea noticed how the elderly guard's eyes watered for just a moment.
As Alrond left to speak with the clerics on duty, the elderly guard and Mira managed to convince the excited children to give Agnea some space, and Mira no longer wore the Blacksnakes collar. "These children can be quite the handful," she said with a quiet laugh.
Agnea giggled. "It's good to see them so full of joy."
"Yeah, it really is." Mira smiled faintly. "Lately they've taken to gardening."
For a moment Agnea froze, remembering the dark, malicious atmosphere of the gardens, and Mira tied to the bell while Mother held that cruel whip. But it would be different now, she reminded herself. "May I see the gardens?" she asked.
Mira's face brightened. "Of course!"
She and the elderly guard led Agnea to the back of the orphanage, pushing open a large door, and the sun was almost blinding as the three of them stepped outside. When Agnea's vision adjusted, there were flowers of all colors as far as the eye could see. When first she had seen this garden, it had been in the dark of night, after Throné snuck in as a nun and helped the others infiltrate via a back entrance. Then, the flowers had been red as blood and black as night, creating a foreboding air. Now, the beauty of all the myriad colors took Agnea's breath away.
Mira and the elderly guard guided Agnea through the path for a little while, and then returned to the main building when she wished to be alone for a bit. A smile tugged at her lips as she bent to touch the head of a pink tulip; she liked crowds, but sometimes it was nice to have quiet moments like these to herself, especially before a big performance.
Again she thought of Throné; maybe there was someone special she'd like to share these moments with. But it had been months since she last saw Throné, their paths crossing by chance back in Clockbank during a dance performance, but only all too briefly, and she felt her chest ache.
A hand touched her shouldet, and she almost screamed. She whirled around, but her mouth went dry when she saw Throné of all people behind her, and she couldn't speak at all.
Throné smirked, putting her hand on her hip. "You still aren't very good at keeping your guard up, are you?"
"T-Throné!" Agnea stammered, finally finding her voice again. "When did you get here?"
"Just today. I heard you'd be performing in Wellgrove, and I figured I would check on the orphanage too while I was here."
As if her body was moving on its own, Agnea threw her arms around Throné for a tight embrace, and Throné's arms came around Agnea's back without hesitation. Throné had a different kind of warmth about her now, and Agnea's cheeks flushed as she felt Throné's heartbeat against her chest. Too soon they released each other, but still Throné's smile remained true.
Agnea was again struck by just how beautiful Throné was. "It's good to see you again," she managed to say.
"And the same to you." Throné chuckled quietly. "You looked so lovely among the flowers I almost didn't want to disturb you."
The blush upon Agnea's cheeks deepened, and she laid a hand over her racing heart. "It really is beautiful here," she whispered.
Throné reached out to trace her finger along the petal of a red rose. "Unlike many of the other Blacksnakes, I was raised by Father in New Delsta. All I knew of Mother's Garden was that it was where the poison in our collars came from. I didn't even know it was in Wellgrove until I confronted that slaver."
Agnea's gaze fell upon Throné's bare throat. So much blood had been shed to remove that collar, and Agnea sometimes had nightmares about Lostseed and that monstrous immortal man. Yet, when the eight of them had made the sun rise again, Throné said the scent of blood didn't seem so strong.
"But anything can change if you're determined enough, I suppose." Throné held out her hand to Agnea. "So why not enjoy the sights for ourselves?"
With a smile, Agnea accepted Throné's hand, and much to her surprise, Throné let their fingers lace. She'd never been so affectionate in the past, but had never refused Agnea's affections either. Together they wandered the gardens, and the paths truly did appear different in the day than at night. Without worrying about Throné confronting the woman she called "Mother," Agnea could better appreciate the sights of all these flowers.
Even the flowers of blood and darkness had been beautiful in their own way, and it'd been clear how much someone cared for them. Maybe if Mother's circumstances had been different, she could've been a florist or an herbalist. But Agnea did not say that out loud.
"Several months ago, Castti came and taught the children how to plant and care for medical herbs," Throné told Agnea as they explored the gardens. "She even explained how some of the poisonous plants could be used to help if properly cultivated and prepared."
Agnea spotted a patch of flowers she recognized as snowdrop blossoms. "Kind of like Melia's greenhouse in Winterbloom, right?"
Throné nodded. "The guard tells me the dancer's guild sometimes even buys flowers from this orphanage for their performances too."
The two of them walked beneath a flower-covered arch, and Agnea inhaled deeply, letting the floral scents wash over her. "How beautiful this place is."
"Mother is gone now." For a moment, Throné's expression darkened. "No one will ever take away this place's warmth again. I won't allow it."
Agnea gave Throné's hand a gentle squeeze. "Neither will I."
Eventually they reached the end of the garden path, and sat together on a stone bench shaded by large, lush trees. The scent of flowers still lingered, and Agnea rested her head against Throné's shoulder. Traveling as she did to dance, her path had crossed with her former traveling companions' several times and they all exchanged letters, but when she was alone, she found herself thinking of Throné the most. Again her eyes fell upon Throné's slender throat, the faintest hint of discoloration around that pale flesh, and she lifted her gaze, and thought about how very bright Throné's lips appeared in the sunlight.
"Come back here with me at night," Throné said suddenly, laying her hand on Agnea's hair.
Agnea blinked in surprise. "Are you sure?"
"As long as we promise to be quiet, the guard and clerics will let us."
"Night, huh…?" A smile tugged at Agnea's lips. "All right then, it's a date!"
Maybe it was simply Agnea's imagination, but Throné's cheeks seemed a little pinker than usual. "Thank you, Agnea," she said softly.
At night, the flowers glittered in the starlight.
Despite the chill in the air, Agnea's body felt warm as she held Throné's hand tightly. Throné led her through the gardens, and shimmering white flowers seemed to follow them, their long petals unfurling under the cover of darkness. Some flowers thrived best in darkness, Throné told her, blooming only for a single night.
"Perhaps it's a little sad," Throné added with a faint smile, "but that makes them all the more beautiful, I think."
"Then I'm glad I could see them with you," Agnea replied, her voice equally quiet.
Softly glowing candles lit a path for Agnea and Throné to follow, and Agnea drew closer to Throné as silence fell over them. More than once Throné touched her throat with her free hand, trembling only slightly. Shadows flickered across them, hiding the colors of the flowers, but it was a gentle darkness, nothing like Vide's darkness that had threatened to consume all of Solistia. She took in a deep breath, and again the scent of flowers filled her nose.
Soon they came to the platform at the center of the darkness, and Agnea froze. Although the large bell was gone and the blood cleaned, she recognized this place all too clearly, where she had seen Mother's cruel whip and finally understood all the scars on Throné's back, and where Throné had slain Mother for a key and Mira had grieved for Mother and sworn revenge.
"I can't forget, you know," Throné said, breaking the silence. "All the blood I spilled for these keys, the truth of the Blacksnakes… Many of the children here in this orphanage may even be my siblings." She hesitated a moment, chewing her lip. "Some of them still grieve for Mother too."
"What about you, Throné?" Agnea asked carefully. There was still much she wanted to ask about the two Throné had called "Mother" and "Father," but it was not a subject to approach lightly, she knew.
Again Throné touched her bare throat. "Mother and Father made their choices, as did I. The Blacksnakes are finished, and… I don't wish to dwell on the past." Her fingers around Agnea's tensed. "I have a request, actually."
Agnea swallowed thickly. "What is it?"
"When I failed to kill Father in Winterbloom, you offered to dance with me." Throné guided Agnea toward the center of the platform. "It's true this place holds many painful memories, but even that can change. When I heard you'd be coming to Wellgrove, I thought it could also make a good stage, and…"
"Are you asking me to dance with you?"
Throné chuckled weakly. "I really am no good at this sort of thing, am I? But yes, if you'd like to."
"Of course!" Agnea beamed. "Now, shall we?"
They got into position - hand in hand, and Agnea's arm around Throné's back and Throné's other hand on Agnea's shoulder - and with only the countless flowers to witness, they began to move. It was a slow dance, and a little bit clumsy too, but it was enough to be so close to Throné again. In Winterbloom, as they had danced together, Throné's smile had been a sight to behold, despite everything that had happened between her and Father.
Against the backdrop of the pale flowers, Throné appeared serene and elegant, and the longing in Agnea's heart grew stronger. The smile on Throné's lips, although faint, was lovely, as if truly from the heart. Only a year had passed since their confrontation with the wicked god Vide, but Throné carried herself so much lighter now, without the weight of that cruel collar. Their steps echoed against the platform, fading into the night, and Agnea thought Throné more beautiful than ever.
As they began to still, Agnea pressed her hand to Throné's cheek, a gentle warmth against her palm. Throné's smile softened, and she bent to kiss Agnea.
In that moment, all Agnea could think was how soft Throné's lips were.
Throné pulled back, her eyes wide. "Was that too much? I—" she stammered, uncharacteristically flustered, and Agnea took her face between her hands and kissed her again. This kiss was deeper but no less passionate, and Throné's arms came around Agnea's back to draw her closer, and she could no longer tell her heartbeat from Throné's.
Breathless, they soon pulled apart, and Agnea held Throné's hand tightly. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time," she said with a giggle.
"You would have a woman like me?" Throné's voice was a whisper. "You know that I've done…"
"Of course." Agnea smiled and let her fingers intertwine with Throné's. "No matter what, I'll always believe in you."
"That idealistic side of you hasn't changed one bit, has it?" Throné let out a sigh. "I don't want to say goodbye to you again so soon."
"Then come with me. I don't want to say goodbye again either."
"Are you certain? I may not let you go again."
"Well, you are a thief, aren't you?"
"That's right, I take what I want." Throné chuckled darkly, and kissed Agnea again.
The following day, backstage at the dancer's guild, Throné finished fastening the back of Agnea's dress. "It's quite the crowd out there," she said to Agnea. "I think the entire town has come out to watch you dance."
Agnea turned to face Throné. "Well, I'll just have to make sure I don't disappoint, huh?"
Throné tucked a white lily, plucked from the orphanage's gardens, behind Agnea's ear. "You could never disappoint, my lovely star."
Agnea felt her cheeks flush; since their kiss among the flowers, she felt as if she was dreaming, but the way her heart fluttered at Throné's touch ensured her that this was real. Throné smiled, just for her, and she didn't plan to let go of Throné again either.
Mira stepped into the dressing room. "Everything is ready for you, Miss Agnea."
"I'll be right there!" Agnea took Throné's hand into hers. "Are you ready?"
Throné nodded, and together they headed outside.
The crowd was as large as Throné had said, and Agnea made her way to the stage. She spotted Mira and the elderly guard with the rest of the orphanage children, and the head of the dancer's guild stood with Alrond and Misha. Agnea cast one last glance at Throné, who had hidden herself in the shadows and out of sight of the crowds, and touched the lily behind her ear. Throné simply smirked and nodded as their eyes met, and Agnea turned her gaze toward the expectant crowd, and smiled too.
"Now, watch me shine!"