Catherine & James || Pluckin’ In the Park
James needed air. Or atleast his head maid politely suggested that “the morning air” could do him well, with it being summer and all. He had it in his power to completely ignore the elderly lady, but he found himself often unable to turn away from the kind servant’s advice. She reminded him of his mouth, quiet and gently doting, often trying her best to assist her master in better integrating in with Herrington. He strolled through Juliet Park, suit coat over his shoulder as the sun beamed down on him.
The lord silently brooded down the cobbled path, thinking on what he’d do once he got home, what book he’d pick up, new facts he’d research when a flash of yellow caught his eye. He felt his heart constrict immediately in the moment, pivoting around slightly to eye a bush covered in small yellow blooms. He could feel himself going right back. To the fields of Belgium. They had the exact same flower (it was likely this one originated from the country), for yards and yards you’d see it. Perfect green fields covered in flowers. He could remember how it looked after, as they returned to England. No flowers. Just turned up soil and mud.
Without a word, he reached out and plucked the petal, bringing to his nose and smelling it slowly.
“...dulcius ex asperis.” It is sweeter after difficulties. The words came out as a whisper, as he closed his eyes and let the sent calm him. Too engrossed to hear the steps behind him.