Chapter 39: Bouquet
Night had fallen over the Eisenthurn mansion, Asteria stood at the stove in the kitchen. The warm glow of overhead lights illuminated the space, bouncing off polished countertops and gleaming pots.
The rich aroma of simmering beef and herbs filled the air, mingling with the steam rising from a large pot where something else bubbled gently. Asteria stirred the sauce with enough patience, her focus was entirely on the task at hand, but her mind kept drifting somewhere else entirely.
Dina stood at the cutting board, chopping vegetables with practiced movements while the other maids moved around the kitchen helping with various chores. Mira was setting the dining table and then moved to wiping down the countertops, making sure everything was spotless.
But Asteria could not stop thinking about earlier that day. The memory played in her mind on a loop, each replay bringing fresh color to her cheeks. The way Keres had paused when their eyes met. The way she had embraced Asteria so protectively, like she was something precious instead of something tolerated.
The way Keres had kissed her forehead so gently, so softly, and promised that she would not do that again. Not the kiss itself, Asteria realized, but whatever had caused her pain before. Keres had promised not to hurt her again.
The thought made something warm and unfamiliar stir in Asteria’s chest. It was not hope and not trust, but it hovered somewhere in between like a bird that had not decided whether to land or fly away. She pressed her hand against her heart as if she could calm the fluttering inside, but it did not help.
I cannot be like this, she thought as she stirred the sauce a little too vigorously. At any time Keres can discard me and worse, bring me back to my papa. The thought ran through her mind uninvited and unwanted, and it sent shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the evening chill.
She did not want to be beaten by her father, William, again. She did not want to feel his fists against her skin or hear his voice telling her she was worthless. And his threat of being sent to prostitution still sat in her mind like an unwanted poison, spreading through her thoughts whenever she let her guard down.
What if Keres got tired of her? What if Keres decided this marriage was not worth the trouble? What if she woke up one morning and found herself back in that house, back in that room, back in that life? The fear was cold and familiar, a companion she had carried for so long she had forgotten what it felt like to be without it.
Asteria coughed. It started small, just a tickle at the back of her throat that she tried to suppress by clearing her throat and taking a sip of water. But the tickle grew into something that rattled in her chest like thunder rolling across a distant sky. She coughed again, louder this time, and the sound was wet, heavy and wrong.
Dina’s head snapped toward her immediately. The knife in Dina’s hand paused mid-chop, and her eyes widened with concern. "Madam," she asked as she set down the knife and moved closer. "Are you okay?" She gently touched Asteria’s shoulder, her fingers warm and steady.
Asteria looked at Dina and forced herself to nod. "Of course I am okay," she said, but her voice came out rougher than she intended.
"Do not worry about me. I will be fine." She turned back to the stove and pointed at the sauce. "Is the sauce okay now? I think Keres would love to eat some beef without the sauce being too—"
She could not finish the sentence. Another cough ripped through her, stronger than the others, and this time she felt something rise in her throat that tasted like copper. She rushed to the sink and bent over just as blood splattered against the stainless steel, bright red against the silver.
The maids froze for a single heartbeat. Then panic erupted.
Dina’s eyes went wide, her face draining of color.
"Madam!" she screamed. "What is going on?! You threw up blood! Oh my God!" Her hands flew to Asteria’s arm, holding her steady, supporting her weight so she would not collapse against the counter.
Mira ran for the water pitcher, her hands shaking so badly that water sloshed over the sides as she carried it. Others grabbed a handful of tissues from the dispenser and rushed forward, pressing them into Asteria’s free hand.
"Someone call an ambulance!" Mira shouted. "Mira, get the telephone!"
Mina bolted toward the wall where the house phone hung, her feet pounding against the tile floor. But Asteria reached out with her free hand, still coughing, still gasping, and grabbed Dina’s forearm with surprising strength. Her grip was desperate and pleading, as her knuckles turn white.
"No," Asteria managed between coughs. "Mira, no. Please."
Mira stopped with her hand hovering over the phone. She looked back at Asteria with confusion and fear warring on her face. "But Madam, you are bleeding. You need a doctor."
"It is okay," Asteria said as she accepted the tissues from Dina and wiped the remaining blood from her lips. Her hands were trembling, and her face was pale beneath the kitchen lights, but her voice was steady. "It is fine. It happens sometimes. I am used to it."
"Madam!" Dina’s voice cracked. "We should rush you to the hospital! This is not normal! Throwing up blood is not something you just ignore!"
Asteria shook her head firmly and gestured for Mira to come back from the phone. Mira hesitated, looking at Dina for guidance, but Dina did not know what to do either. All of them were frozen in the tension between what they knew was right and what Asteria was asking of them.
"No, Mira, no," Asteria said, still trying to catch her breath. Her chest heaved with the effort of steadying herself, and she pressed one hand against her ribs as if she could physically calm whatever was happening inside her body.
"I... I will fix this. Please. Just please do not call anyone. And please, do not tell Keres."
The words hung in the air like a weight. The maids exchanged glances, their faces were a mixture of fear, confusion, and something that looked like heartbreak. They had all seen how kind Asteria was.
They had all experienced her warmth, her generosity, her insistence that they were friends and not servants. And now they were watching her bleed into a sink and beg them to keep it secret.
"Please," Asteria repeated, and her voice broke on the word. "I will be the one to tell her. But not now. Not tonight. I need... I need to find the right time. Please understand."
Dina looked at the other maids. Mira had tears streaming down her face, though she was trying to hide them by turning away. Sasha was clutching the tissue box like a lifeline. Others had stepped away from the phone and was standing with her arms wrapped around themselves.
They were all looking to Dina for an answer, because she was the senior maid, because she was the one Asteria had befriended first, she was the only one who seemed capable of speaking.
Dina took a deep breath. She looked at Asteria’s face, at the pleading in her eyes, at the way her lips trembled even as she tried to smile. And something in Dina’s chest cracked open.
She did not understand what was happening or why Asteria was so afraid of Keres finding out, but she understood that the woman in front of her was scared, hurting, and needed someone to listen.
"Okay, madam," Dina said softly. She reached out and took Asteria’s hand, squeezing it gently. "We will do what you said. We will not tell anyone. But please... please promise you will see a doctor soon. Promise you will not let this go."
Asteria nodded, and the relief that flooded her face was almost painful to see. "I promise," she whispered. "I will handle it. Just... Give me some time."
The maids nodded slowly, each of them making their own silent promise to keep Asteria’s secret. They returned to their tasks, but the atmosphere in the kitchen had changed.
The warmth was gone, replaced by something heavier, something that sat in their chests like a stone. Dina stayed close to Asteria for the rest of the cooking, ready to catch her if she fell, ready to hold her if she cried.
Asteria washed the blood from the sink, scrubbing until the stainless steel shone again, erasing all evidence of what had happened. She rinsed her mouth with water until the taste of copper faded, and she pinched her cheeks to bring back some color.
By the time the food was ready, she looked almost normal. Almost healthy. Almost fine again.
But Dina noticed the way she leaned against the counter when she thought no one was looking. And Dina noticed the way she pressed her hand against her chest when she thought no one was watching. Dina noticed that the smile Asteria wore did not quite reach her eyes.
***
A few moments later, the front door opened and closed with a soft click. Keres had returned.
She moved through the house with quick, purposeful steps, her eyes scanning every room as she passed. The maids saw her coming and stepped aside, opening their mouths to greet her, but she waved them off before they could speak.
She did not have time for greetings. She did not have time for small talk. She needed to find Asteria.
Behind her back, hidden from view, Keres was holding a bouquet of flowers. The stems were wrapped in brown paper and tied with a simple twine bow, the kind of arrangement you bought when you were in a hurry and did not have time to be picky.
Roses in deep red and soft pink were mixed with tulips in bright yellow and white, and a few sprigs of baby’s breath poked out from between the blooms.
It was not the most elegant bouquet Keres had ever purchased, but it was the first one she had ever bought for someone else.
She had stood in the flower shop for nearly twenty minutes, staring at the displays like they were written in a foreign language. The florist had asked her what kind of flowers she wanted, and Keres had drawn a complete blank.
She did not know what Asteria liked. She did not know what colors she preferred or what scents she enjoyed. She knew that Asteria smelled like jasmine and that she looked beautiful in lavender, but that was the extent of her knowledge.
So she had pointed at the first arrangement that did not look too romantic or too formal, and she had paid in cash so there would be no record of the purchase on her card, and she had driven home with her heart pounding for reasons she refused to examine.
Now she was wandering through her own house like a lost child, peering into rooms and calling Asteria’s name in a voice that was trying very hard to sound casual.
"Where is your madam?" Keres asked when she passed Dina in the hallway. Her tone was sharp, but there was something underneath it that might have been nervousness.
Dina opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, Asteria stepped out from the kitchen. She had wiped away all traces of her earlier episode, and her face was composed into a gentle smile.
Her lavender dress had been exchanged for a simple white blouse and a long skirt, and her hair was pulled back from her face with a clip.
"Keres," she said softly. "You’re looking for me?"
Keres turned at the sound of her voice, and for a moment she just stood there, taking in the sight of Asteria standing in front of her with the kitchen apron, glow like a comic character or the beautiful mesmerizing main character in a book that made Keres eyes widened, her breath hitching, and gasp.
Then she remembered the flowers hidden behind her back, and she gestured for the maids to leave.
Dina hesitated. She looked at Asteria, at the way her wife was standing a little too stiffly, at the way her smile did not quite reach her eyes. But Asteria gave her a small nod, a silent reassurance that everything was fine, and Dina finally retreated with the other maids.
They disappeared into the kitchen and closed the door, leaving Keres and Asteria alone in the hallway.
Keres approached slowly, her footsteps careful and deliberate. The bouquet was still hidden behind her back, and she could feel the paper crinkling against her palms.
She stopped when she was close enough to see the faint shadows under Asteria’s eyes, close enough to notice that her wife looked a little paler than she had this morning.
"Uhm," Keres started, then stopped. She cleared her throat and tried again. "About earlier. I wanted to say—"
"It is okay," Asteria interrupted quickly, her cheeks flushing pink. "You do not have to explain. It is fine."
"No, it is not fine." Keres frowned, frustrated with herself for not being able to find the right words. "I... I am sorry. For being... For everything. I was not... I should not have..."
She was stuttering like a teenager, and she hated it. She was Keres Eisenthurn. She did not stammer, stumble, or struggle to express herself. She said what she meant and she meant what she said, she did not apologize to anyone for anything.
But here she was, apologizing to Asteria, and the words would not come out right no matter how hard she tried.
She gave up on words entirely. Instead, she brought her hands out from behind her back and held the bouquet out toward Asteria like an offering. The paper crinkled, and a single petal drifted down to land on the floor between them.
"I bought roses and tulips," Keres said, her voice was quieter now. "Because I do not know what your favorite flowers are. I realized today that I do not know a lot of things about you, and I want to change that. So I bought you flowers. I do not even know if you like flowers. But I bought them anyway."
Asteria stared at the bouquet.
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted slightly, and for a long moment she did not move at all. She just stood there looking at the roses and the tulips and the baby’s breath, looking at the brown paper and the twine bow, looking at the way Keres was holding the bouquet like it was something precious and fragile.
In all her life, no one had ever given her flowers before.
Her father had never given her anything except bruises and fear. The servants in her childhood home had been too afraid of William to show Asteria any kindness. And she never had friends, never had lovers that loved her truly, never had anyone who looked at her and thought she might like something beautiful.
Flowers were for people who were loved, for people who mattered, for people who were worth the effort of remembering.
And now Keres was standing in front of her with a bouquet in her hands, and she was looking at Asteria with an expression that was almost shy, almost vulnerable, almost soft.
"I... I am sorry," Keres said again, misinterpreting Asteria’s silence. She smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of her neck, the gesture so unlike her usual confident demeanor that it was almost jarring.
"I really am. I should have asked what you liked before I bought them. I can return them and get something else. What are your favorite flowers? I will remember for next time."
Asteria did not answer with words.
She lunged forward and threw her arms around Keres, hugging her tightly, pressing her face against Keres shoulder. The bouquet was crushed between them, but neither of them seemed to notice or care.
Asteria’s body trembled against Keres, and her breath came in short uneven gasps, her fingers clutched at the back of Keres blazer like she was afraid of falling.
Keres froze. Her arms hung at her sides, and her entire body went rigid with surprise. She had not expected this. She had expected awkwardness or gratitude or maybe even suspicion.
She had not expected Asteria to hug her like she was the only thing keeping her standing.
Then Asteria spoke, her voice muffled against Keres shoulder. "It is dandelions," she said. "My favorite flower is dandelions."
Keres blinked. "Dandelions?" she repeated, confused. "The weeds?"
"They are not weeds," Asteria said, and there was a tremor in her voice that might have been a laugh or might have been a sob. "They are flowers. They are yellow and bright and they grow anywhere, even in places where no one plants them. They do not need anyone to take care of them. They just grow. I always liked that."
Keres did not understand. She did not understand why Asteria was shaking, why her voice sounded like she was about to cry, or why dandelions of all things would be anyone’s favorite flower.
But she understood that something important was happening, something she did not want to mess up.
Slowly and carefully, she brought her arms up and wrapped them around Asteria. The bouquet was trapped between their bodies, the paper crinkling with every small movement, but Keres did not care.
She held Asteria securely, one hand pressed against the back of Asteria head and the other resting on her lower back. She could feel Asteria heartbeat against her own chest, fast and strong and so painfully alive.
"That is good, wife," Keres said softly, the word wife slipping out before she could stop it. And this time, she didn’t take it back.
"I will buy you more of them. I will buy you all the dandelions in the world if that is what you want."
Asteria made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "I thought you hated me," she whispered.
Keres closed her eyes. The words echoed in her chest, and she realized that she did not have an easy answer. She had spent so long telling herself that she hated Asteria, that this marriage was a punishment, that her wife was nothing more than a burden she had to endure.
But somewhere along the way, somewhere between the morning sunlight and the lavender dress and the rice balls made by hand, the hatred had started to feel less like truth and more like a habit she was too scared to break.
"That is what I also think," Keres admitted. She pulled back just enough to look at Asteria’s face, at the tears streaming down her cheeks, and at the way her lips trembled even as she smiled.
"But I do not know anymore. I do not know what I think. I only know that I do not want to hurt you, and I have been hurting you, and I want to stop." She paused, searching for words that would not fail her. "I will try to make it up to you. I do not know how, but I will try."
Asteria looked at her for a long moment. The tears kept falling, but her smile grew wider, brighter, more real than any smile Keres had seen from her before. She reached up and touched Keres cheek with her fingertips, a feather light touch that made Keres breath catch.
"Okay," Asteria whispered. "I will believe you. For now, I will believe you."
But even as she said it, even as she leaned into Keres embrace and let herself be held, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered the truth she could not silence.
She would believe Keres words, yes. She would let herself hope, just a little, just for tonight. But she would not trust them completely. Trust was a luxury she couldn’t afford, not when the fall could kill her.
For now, though, she had flowers. She had dandelions, roses, and tulips, and she had Keres arms around her, she had something that felt almost like happiness.
But is it really?
