The Devil

Everynight I went to bed, I dreamt the same dream.

Of the devil haunting my sleep.

*

The castle of Vesteria.

Two days later...

"You meant petals?" Ellory asked, plucking a white rose and handing it to Catherine. "Like this one, Princess?"

Catherine shook her head, her gaze drifting over the garden blooms. "Not a white rose. It was red."

Ellory's eyes widened. "Heavens… where did that gentleman even find such a flower?"

Catherine gave a faint smile but kept searching. After that night, she had overslept. When she finally woke, there was no sign of him, just Ellory, tidying the room and asked about the rose. Catherine only said a gentleman had left it.

She didn't tell her what kind of man he was.

"It has to be here," she murmured, weaving between daisies and sunflowers.

Ellory stepped in front of her, sunlight warming her pale skin. "My princess, there's no record of any red flowers in these gardens."

"But you saw it," Catherine replied, eyes still sweeping the path. "It must be somewhere.

Otherwise… where did he get it?"

Catherine walked past Ellory, weaving through the aisles of flowers.

Ahead, two gardeners tended to the blooms. They paused and bowed at her approach.

"Have you seen a red rose?" she asked.

The elder gardener, his hair streaked with gray, bowed again and said,

"My princess, there are no red roses in the garden."

The younger one—no older than ten, with sharp golden eyes and hair to match—whispered, "It's said the red rose belongs to the devil."

Catherine drew a breath.

Ellory gasped beside her.

"Ezra!" the elder snapped.

The boy quickly bowed. "Apologies, Princess."

"Forgive his impudence, Princess," the older man said, voice tight. "He has a loose tongue, sometimes."

Catherine smiled gently, showing she'd taken no offense.

"No need to be sorry," she said softly.

The young boy lifted his head. Catherine smiled at him, and he blinked in surprise.

"Tell me, Ezra," she said gently. "Where did you hear those words?"

"My princess, it's just a baseless rumor—not worth your time. I'm sure Ezra doesn't—"

"Go on." Catherine lowered herself to his height, ignoring the older man. "Tell me where you heard it."

Ezra nodded slowly. "When Father sent me to the village for tomato seeds… I overheard some boys talking."

"Boys your age?" Catherine asked.

"See?" the elder gardener cut in. "Foolish talk spread by children. It means nothing."

But Catherine's gaze stayed on the boy.

She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "What else did they say, Ezra?"

Ezra stared at her hand on his.

His eyes lit up—finally, someone was listening.

He'd told his father days ago, but no one had believed him. Not until now. Not until the princess knelt just to hear him.

"They said… they saw a man," he said, voice low but eager. "With two long fangs. With claws. Pale skin. They said he walks the streets at night. They called him the devil. And they said..."

His voice dropped to a whisper.

"...the devil's garden has red roses. Roses with sharp thorns."

Silence blanketed the garden.

Even Catherine blinked at him.

Ezra's eyes dropped. His voice went small.

"I'm sorry… I know it sounds silly."

"He's never seen this man himself—it must be one of those bedtime stories," his father muttered dismissively.

Catherine rose to her feet, eyes narrowing as she faced him. "No one tells children about the devil to help them sleep."

She turned to Ezra with a soft smile. "Thank you for telling me."

Ezra's eyes widened. "You believe me?"

She nodded. "If you ever hear more of these stories, come straight to me. Do you understand?"

He straightened proudly and bowed. "Yes, yes, Princess!"

Catherine turned to leave, her steps light on the stoned path. But behind her, his voice rang out, full of joy.

"I am honored! Goodbye, Princess!"

Her lips curved. As they made their way back toward the house, Ellory's voice broke frantically through the silence.

"Do you not think the boy might be sprouting nonsense? What if those children are lying?"

"Children don't lie, Ellory. Not without a reason," she said calmly.

"But my Princess," Ellory pressed, "no one speaks of devils. I've never heard such a thing."

Catherine halted. She glanced at her, her gaze sharp.

"That's because," she said slowly, "the adults are hiding the truth from us."

Ellory laughed nervously. "You don't actually believe what he said, do you?"

"Why not?" Catherine folded her arms. "If good entities exist, then so must the bad ones."

Ellory blinked. "Perhaps, like the good ones are spirits we cannot see... the evil ones are, too."

Catherine tilted her head back, gazing at the blue sky. The light caught in her eyes.

"Maybe you have to believe they exist before you're able to see them."

"Princess?"

She turned to her with a faint smile. "Children don't know what's good or bad. That's why they see."

Silence fell like a curtain. Ellory's lips parted, but no words came. Something in her tone, in the quiet conviction behind it, unsettled her. She sensed a shift—subtle but real.

Something had changed in the princess. And she feared it had something to do with her visit to the grave.

"Princess Catherine," a voice called gently as a maid stepped into the courtyard. She bowed. "Lord Edward is here to see you."

"Ahh," Ellory beamed, quickly forgetting the talk about the devil. "He must be here to call and send flowers. Come," she grabbed her hand and began dragging her in. "I heard you danced with him."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Better I dance with the devil."

Ellory pouted her lips at her, and Catherine flashed a smile.

•••••••••••

"Lord Edward. What a surprise," Catherine said the moment she entered the waiting room.

The room had two parts—one shielded from the sun by glass ceilings and an orange tree, the other open, letting sunlight pour in over the garden plants.

Two seats sat at the foot of the orange tree, where Edward waited.

On seeing her, he stood and bowed. "Princess Catherine." He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles.

She offered a half smile. "I never thought you would keep to your word."

"Well," he gestured to one of the seats, "I am a man of my word."

They sat facing each other, while Catherine twisted her hands under the table. Lord Edward looked on, confident.

He was a charming man—the sun spilled over his blonde hair, and his blue eyes were sharp, but they never charmed her in any way. Instead, they irked her.

"I heard that after George's death, you stayed huddled in your room."

"'Huddled' should not be the word." She eyed Ellory, who walked in with a jar of tea. "It was my safe space for passing through the grief."

Ellory narrowed her eyes as she poured the tea, and Catherine took a sip, smiling at her behind the teacup.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that alone," Lord Edward said, nodding at Ellory, who had just finished pouring his drink. When Ellory left, he took a sip. "But I am here now, and I will take good care of you."

He clapped his hands, and a maiden came in with a bunch of blue tulips. She handed them to her.

Catherine took them nervously. "You don't have to."

"Oh, but a caller must." He flashed that charming smile again. "Take it to the princess's room and make sure it's set on the window where the sun can heat it."

The maid nodded and took the flowers from her.

When she left, Catherine scoffed. "I never even accepted."

"Oh, but you must." His eyes narrowed and his lips curved. "You do not have much time, My Princess, to be without a husband. It is obvious the throne will not wait for you to grieve for long."