Chapter 42 - Green Thumb
"Theresa," Agatha called softly as she walked over. Theresa looked up and smiled a little when she saw Agatha. "Miss Agatha," she said, nodding politely. "Oh, stop being so formal," Agatha chuckled. "We're both just maids, after all." Agatha walked closer and pointed to the beautiful flowers. "You're amazing with these plants," she said. "Everything you touch seems to grow so well!"
Theresa blushed slightly, her gaze returning to the flowers. "They simply need a little care and attention. That is all." Agatha chuckled. "If only it were that simple for everyone. I've tried my hand at gardening countless times, but to no avail. Everything I plant seems determined to wilt and wither. It's quite disheartening, really." She sighed dramatically, but her eyes held a hint of amusement. Theresa smiled sympathetically. "Perhaps it's simply a matter of finding the right plants for your touch. Some are more delicate than others."
Agatha was admiring Theresa's flowers when suddenly, her eyes widened. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, clapping a hand to her forehead. "I completely forgot! I was supposed to change the flowers in the hallway! They must be looking dreadful by now." She gave Theresa a quick, apologetic look. "I have to go! Those flowers won't change themselves!" Agatha waved a hasty goodbye, her hand fluttering in the air as she turned and hurried out of the garden, her footsteps quick and determined. Theresa watched her go, a small smile playing on her lips. She shook her head gently, amused by Agatha's sudden flurry of activity. "Being a high-level maid must be so tiring. Always busy," she murmured to herself, then returned to her flowers, her smile lingering.
"Mother, mother!" a little voice called out. Theresa's eyes narrowed as she looked towards the sound. Madeline came running towards her, a big smile on her face. "Madeline!" Theresa exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and slight annoyance. "What are you doing here? And I've told you, you can't call me 'mother' when we're out here!"
Madeline stopped short, her smile fading a little. She looked up at her mother, her small face confused. "But… but there's nobody else here," she said, glancing around the quiet garden. She seemed to be genuinely puzzled by her mother's words, her eyes wide as she took in the empty paths and blooming flowers.
"Do you see Agatha?" Theresa asked Madeline, her voice still a little sharp. "She was just here, and she might have heard you. You know we have to be careful. As a high-level maid, I heard she's working directly to the royals". Madeline looked around; her eyes wide. "I didn't see her," she whispered, then lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Mama," she mumbled, her voice small and filled with regret.
Theresa's heart softened as she saw the hurt in her daughter's voice. She knelt down so she was at Madeline's level and gently stroked her hair. "It's alright, sweetheart," she said softly. "It's just… it's important that we keep this a secret. Now, tell me, why did you come looking for me? Do you need help with something?"
"I want to learn how to take care of flowers too," Madeline said, her face lighting up with a bright smile. Theresa smiled back, her heartwarming at her daughter's enthusiasm. "Alright then," she said, patting the ground next to her. "Come here, let me show you." Madeline eagerly sat down beside her mother.
Together, they began working in the flowerbed. Theresa carefully explained each step, showing Madeline how to gently weed around the plants, how much water they needed, and how to prune the delicate blooms. Madeline listened patiently, her eyes wide with interest, absorbing every word her mother said. She carefully mimicked Theresa's actions; her small hands clumsy but determined as she learned the art of tending to the flowers.
Meanwhile, within the opulent confines of the castle's interior, a storm was brewing. Princess Vivienne, the king's sister, was in a furious temper. She stood in the center of her lavishly decorated bedchamber, her face flushed with anger, glaring at a trembling young maid.
"Every single morning!" Vivienne exclaimed, her voice sharp and cutting. "Every single morning, I wake up to find these flowers…wilting! They look as though they've been left in the desert for days!" The maid, a girl barely out of her teens, stammered an apology, her eyes wide with fear. "I-I assure you, Princess, I water them every day…"
Vivienne cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Excuses! I've heard enough excuses! It's not just in here! The flowers in the walkway are the same! It's an absolute disgrace!". "You! Just who are you?" the princess asked glaring at the maid before her. "How long have you been working here at the palace? I don't recognize your face at all! Are you new?" She scrutinized her from head to toe, her expression disapproving. "And you certainly look much too young to be a high-level maid," she continued, her voice laced with suspicion. "Now, tell me, where is Emilia? I need to speak with her immediately."
Agatha, whose job it was to look after the walkway, had just arrived and overheard the end of the princess's angry outburst. She walked forward calmly, even though she could feel the tension. "Princess Vivienne," Agatha said respectfully. "I'm very sorry the flowers aren't looking their best. I've been working hard to keep them up, but…"
"And just who do you think you are?" Princess Vivienne interrupted Agatha sharply, her eyes narrowed, and her voice laced with impatience. She completely ignored Agatha's attempt to explain. "I'm the one who's in charge of these flowers," Agatha replied calmly, gesturing towards the young maid who stood quietly beside her. "Along with her," Agatha added, indicating the younger maid.
Princess Vivienne scoffed, cutting Agatha off again. "Well, your 'best' is clearly not good enough!" she snapped, her voice dripping with disdain and her gaze sweeping over the flowers on her room with a critical eye. "I expect fresh, vibrant flowers every single morning. Is that really too much to ask? This is a room of a royal, not some ordinary room!"
Agatha bit back a sigh. She knew arguing with the princess in this state would be futile. An idea sparked in her mind. "Actually, Princess," she said, her voice carefully measured. "I know someone who has a remarkable talent with plants. A true green thumb, as they say. Perhaps she could be of assistance?"
Princess Vivienne's anger, though still simmering, was momentarily distracted by a flicker of curiosity. She narrowed her eyes, her gaze shifting from the wilting flowers to Agatha. "Who are you talking about?" she asked, crossing her arms imperiously across her chest. "Theresa," Agatha replied, her voice steady and respectful. "She's one of the low-level maids, but she has a real gift with plants. She's the one who takes care of the palace garden," Agatha explained bowing slightly. "And the flowers she tends are always absolutely thriving. I've seen her work miracles with even the most delicate blooms, coaxing them back to life when everyone else had given up on them."
Vivienne paused, tapping her fingers impatiently on a nearby table as she considered Agatha's words. The sight of wilting flowers had been a constant source of irritation, and the idea of finally having the problem solved was definitely appealing. However, she still hesitated. "A low-level maid, you say?" she asked, her tone skeptical. "Yes, Your Highness," Agatha confirmed. A small, dismissive laugh escaped Vivienne's lips. "You expect me," she scoffed, "to allow some lowly maid to come anywhere near my private rooms? Absolutely not!"
Agatha paused, considering her words carefully before replying. "Your Highness," she began, her voice measured and sincere, "I understand your hesitation. But I implore you, give Theresa a chance. I truly believe she can help. I promise you, you will not be disappointed." A tense silence hung in the air as Princess Vivienne weighed Agatha's plea.
Finally, she spoke, her tone softening slightly, though still laced with a hint of warning. "Very well," she conceded. "Bring this…Theresa to me. I'm willing to give her a try." However, her expression hardened again as she added a chilling caveat. "But" she continued, her voice sharp and clear, "if she fails, if those flowers are not vibrant and fresh every morning, you, Agatha, will be held responsible. You will be executed in her behalf." Agatha's throat tightened, a lump forming in her chest as she heard the princess's harsh words. She nodded quietly, acknowledging the grave risk she was taking.
She quickly located Theresa in the gardens and relayed the princess's words. Theresa, though apprehensive, agreed to go. She followed Agatha to Vivienne's chambers, her hands nervously twisting in the folds of her simple dress. When they arrived, Vivienne scrutinized Theresa with a critical eye.
"So, you're the one who's supposed to have some magical touch with flowers?" she said, her tone skeptical. Theresa offered a small curtsy. "I simply try to give them the care they need, Princess," she replied softly. Vivienne gestured towards the wilting flowers in her room. "Well, they clearly need more than what they've been getting. Starting today, you will be responsible for tending to all the flowers in my chambers and the walkway. You will ensure they are fresh, vibrant, and never wilt. Is that understood?"
Theresa nodded, her apprehension fading slightly as she looked at the drooping blooms. She could already see what they needed – fresh water, proper sunlight, and perhaps a bit of gentle pruning. "Yes, Princess," she replied confidently. "I understand." The task had been passed, and Theresa, unaware of the larger events unfolding within the castle walls, had unknowingly stepped into a new role, one that would bring her closer to the heart of the palace.