Flora’s Flowers | Cordelia & Flora
“Goodness, you have been busy!”
Her sitting room had been adorned with dozens of flower arrangements, each lovelier and more elegant than the last. Cordelia supposed she should have expected this, when she'd agreed to let Flora select some potentials.
“How am I to choose?” She asked, considering each one in turn, trying to supress the sudden overwhelming feeling that began to settle in. Cordelia had agreed to the marriage, wholeheartedly (it was the right thing to do for Valeria; it was the right thing to do for Margot) and yet it hadn’t seemed real, somehow, until now when the preparations were being made right before her eyes.
There would be time, later, to digest these feelings. For now, she would put on a smile for her friend. Before her father’s death, no one wondered what Cordelia Stafford was thinking or feeling, but since then she’d quickly learned that her emotions must be repressed if she was going to provide the proper support for her sister.
“I think you must have always been destined to plan my wedding,” Cordelia smiled, fingers tracing the petals of a rose as she inspected the arrangement closest to her, “You’ve more ideas for the flowers than I think I could have had for the entire ceremony!” She laughed, “And we both know that you were certainly destined to plan your brother’s, but who could have guessed that they would have been one and the same?”
Certainly not Cordelia, herself, who had always considered Edward to be insufferable (and even more so knowing how he was with Flora - he was capable of being a much better man and yet he had somehow gotten it into his head that no one else deserved even a small fraction of the consideration he gave his sister).
