Prince Jeffery's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Jeffery walked back to the flower house at dawn. He needed to say one true thing. He stopped at the tall street light near her gate, the one crusted with painted butterflies. He had stood under it many times to listen to her. Today he meant to speak. Rosalind stepped out with a watering can. She did not look surprised. "You are early," she said. "The white ones opened last night." Jeffery opened his mouth. The words tangled. He thought of the turtle prince at her fence, of the muffins, of every hand that had reached toward her before his. His tongue went dry. "I came to tell you," he began, "that I — that the flowers —" He stopped. He could not finish. A quiet voice cut in from the path. "He cannot say it." Lauren stood there, arms folded, pink hair bright in the morning. "You should not make her wait while you sort yourself out." Rosalind looked at Jeffery a long moment. Her face did not change. "Come back when you know," she said. Not unkind. Just final. She turned and walked into the house. Jeffery stood under the butterfly light alone. He had tried to speak, and he had failed. The door was not shut on him — but it was not open either. He understood now what he had to do. Before he could win her word, he had to find his own.