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The Arnor family was expected to be able to handle any situation with grace and poise befitting royalty. It was in their bloodline, after all; they had guided this country with calm confidence for generations.
"Alfin!" Cedric yelled, chasing her across the grounds of Crystal Garden, one fist raised over his head. To one side of the garden, their bodyguards watched, focused but relaxed. At the other, their mother watched with despair instead, fingers pressed to her forehead.
Alfin, well aware of her mother's concern, but with her arms quite full of flowers and also avoiding Cedric, simply flashed her a smile as she ran by.
"When Alfin volunteered herself and her brother to assist with the garden's set up," Priscilla said, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, "I should have suspected there was more to it."
Olivert laughed, warm and sincere. "Ah, but they're bringing such joy to the others working, aren't they? In that sense, they are doing a wonderful job."
Priscilla offered him a wry smile, one that shifted into something warmer as Olivert produced a yellow rose from seemingly nowhere and offered it to her. She accepted it with a hum, and then reached out to gently tuck it into his lapel.
"If that is the criteria, then I suppose you're right. They are helping admirably." There was a pause as Priscilla's eyes followed her children as they rushed across the gardens, before she simply sighed and shook her head. "Well, at least one of the Arnor family looks presentable for today's soiree."
"Alfin," Cedric's voice rose clearly over the gentle sussurus of preparation surrounding the garden, and Priscilla sighed, raising a hand to her forehead in a very un-empress-like gesture.
"Allow me," Olivert said, flashing her a charming smile, before he quickly strode towards his siblings. He found Cedric with a fistful of freesias, and blinked.
"I wasn't aware those were part of the flower arrangements," he said mildly, and Cedric whirled around to face him, brows drawn together in aggravation. "They're not," he snapped, before he shoved them at Olivert. "Alfin is taking jabs at me!"
Ah, right. That made sense, in as much as anything did right now.
As if summoned, Alfin appeared behind Olivert, peering around his shoulder. "Such brutish accusations! I simply felt as though Cedric's arrangements could use more color!"
"Now, now, my sweet, troublesome younger siblings," Olivert cut in before Cedric could, tone sickly sweet. "As fun as your games may be, you're getting in the way."
Alfin gasped, just as overly theatric, a palm to her chest. "How rude, Olivert!"
"And they are much too polite to tell the crown prince and angelic princess that they are just making their jobs harder by running around the gardens like this," Olivert continued, as if Alfin had never spoken.
She pursed her lips at that. Mischief was fun, of course, but the thought of putting other people out because of it didn't sit well with her, kind as her heart was. Olivert watched her come to a conclusion with a fond smile of his own. Truly, watching them grow up was one of the joys of returning to court, even if he still chose to flit in and out whenever he had the opportunity. Now, though, with both of them on the cusp of adulthood and still finding their place in a rapidly changing world, these moments of innocent joy were all the more precious.
Cedric snorted, clearly not agreeing at all with Olivert's internal monologue.
"If they don't like it, they should speak up. Besides, all of this is Alfin's fault to begin with."
"Honestly, Cedric, there is no call to be rude about this," came the immediate retort, and Olivert smiled, though a tad bit more ruefully.
He rested a hand on both Cedric and Alfin's shoulders, squeezing them warningly. "Flower arrangements. It is the only task you've both been assigned, isn't it?"
Alfin smiled up at him angelically. "Yes, Olivert!"
Cedric, in contrast, muttered something sullenly, arms crossed, freesias still in hand. Olivert arched an eyebrow at the flowers, shaking his head.
"Since it seems you each can't be trusted with the task on your own, let's do it together, shall we?"
Cedric opened his mouth—undoubtedly to protest—and Olivert grinned a grin at him that promised trouble. Slowly, Cedric closed his mouth again. Alfin glanced between them, and grinned as well.
"Very well, Olivert! You have both of our attention." Alfin reached out to grab her twin's hand in her own, swinging them between them. Cedric sighed, still scowling, but didn't stop her.
"Lead the way, Cedric, Alfin! I would like to see what flowers we're working with," Olivert exclaimed, a hand pressed to his chest as he extended the other in front of them. The prince's voice carried, but nobody else stopped from their tasks; they were used to it, after all.
And so the afternoon progressed.
—
Priscilla found that the peace and quiet following Olivert chasing down Alfin and Cedric was alarming.
True, it was better than the yelling and chaos from before, but only slightly; now she had to assume they were getting into trouble quietly. Alfin had always been headstrong and difficult, but Cedric, too, had changed so much and so rapidly from the sweet child he once was, and now…
"Mother," he said from behind her, and Priscilla turned, blinking.
"Ah, Cedric." What a relief. The chances of Alfin and Cedric getting into trouble was cut in half if they weren't together.
He hesitated, nearly shuffling in place, and Priscilla arched a curious eyebrow. A nervous and tongue-tied Cedric used to be common, but it was something he loathed showing anymore. He must truly have been nervous.
"What is it?" she prompted gently, and Cedric huffed, before he hastily brought his hands forward to offer her a small vase of flowers. Priscilla blinked, before she carefully accepted it, gently reaching out to touch a white petal.
"… We arranged them together," Cedric said, barely a mutter. It wasn't terribly princely for him to mutter, but Priscilla was much too astonished to consider scolding him. "And Olivert said—well, he suggested I show one to you."
With that in mind, Priscilla looked at the vase of flowers again. It wasn't very complex, though it was elegant enough to pass muster. Flower arrangement was a necessary skill for royalty to prove their well-roundedness, so she knew her children had received lessons to do more complex arrangements than this.
And yet—
A delicate, white edelweiss flower, surrounded by carefully tended sprigs of thyme, with white carnations rounding out the tiny arrangement…
Priscilla cocked her head to one side, a suspicion forming slowly. "This… represents all of you, doesn't it?"
Cedric blinked, as if surprised she figured it out so quickly, before he just smiled ruefully. "As expected of you, Mother."
He rubbed the back of his neck. Even this much honesty was probably wearing on him at this point, Priscilla thought, but… Cedric had always been softer on his family than those around him. Perhaps it was simply that he didn't feel that unending pressure to try to match up to an image only he could see in his mind when it was only his sister and mother and half-brother there to see how far away from it he was.
"We each chose… for each other," he continued, hands clenching and unclenching into fists at his side.
I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from what took away your innocence, Priscilla thought, as she watched him wrestle with that urge to come across as strong and nothing else.
"So… I chose the flower to represent Alfin, and Alfin chose Olivert, and… Olivert chose mine."
Priscilla smiled a little to herself despite where her thoughts had led her, and reached out once again to gently trace a sprig of thyme.
"You chose white carnations for your sister," she stated more than asked, and Cedric, cheeks a little red, looked away but nodded. Sweet. Lovely. Brave. With that confirmed, Priscilla eyed the other two plants. "And Alfin represented Olivert with the thyme."
Courage. Strength.
"Then…"
Cedric cleared his throat, and said tentatively, "Olivert chose the edelweiss for me."
Courage. Devotion.
Olivert had always been perceptive, Priscilla thought, staring down again at the edelweiss flower. It was possible that Cedric was going to go down a path she could not follow, and she would lose her son—again, this time for good.
But perhaps Olivert saw a different ending for his little brother. Perhaps the devotion he saw in Cedric was enough to one day bring them together again. So she smiled, warmly and fondly, and reached out to tidy her son's hair. Cedric stiffened as he never used to be before, but he remained still and allowed her to fix his bangs.
"It is a lovely arrangement," she said, sincerely. "I think these will do quite nicely for the garden party."
Cedric cleared his throat and tried to not look pleased. "You do not think they're too plain?"
"I think they are perfect," Priscilla said firmly. "Now, come, Cedric. Show me how they look on the tables."
He did so without complaint, though he didn't smile. Halfway through the tour, Alfin joined them, smiling, but quietly. When Priscilla looked up, she noted Olivert at the edges of the hustle and bustle of preparation, watching his family as they walked together. Their eyes met, and she smiled.
Olivert had always been one of the most clever people she'd ever met, even when he was young. If he thought that there was still hope for her children and their future as a family together, then Priscilla would hold onto that with all she had.
Devotion, she thought, and smiled.