Chapter 10: The Garden
I slept better than I did the first night.
It was the morning of my third day. Days were long, and nights were short - even when I struggled to sleep, the comfort of unchecked solitary dread was more appealing than masked fear in public.
The first thing I noticed after waking up was a scent - something flowery, but not overtly so. It wasn’t perfume. There was something natural and genuine about it, as if I woke up on a bed of flowers.
When I shook my head, stretched, and sat up, I knew why. A single, large white lily lay on the console table at the foot of the bed. White lilies being what they are, for a brief moment I thought of funerals, but rather than creepy, it felt like a tribute to a beautiful spirit that I could not see, almost like a charm to summon a kindred spirit to soothe and protect me during sleep.
I got out of bed feeling better already. Curious, I walked to the console table and picked up the lily, took a deep breath to savor its scent. Then I noticed that there was a paper note on the table. As I picked it up, the sensation of its texture sent a pang in my heart. It felt ancient, stirring a quiet, inexplicable nostalgia.
Today is a rest day. Mandatory. - Luc
Her cursive handwriting was torturously beautiful, and unexpectedly feminine. It was romantic poetry in its form and style, with every stroke and curve telling a story, and each dot conveying finality and longing for more.
I stared at it for a long time. Then I carefully placed it back down on the table and headed outside.
Luc stood by the door, but it did not surprise me. It was as if she could change the air of her presence at will. Yesterday, her presence in the mirror room was oppressive. Today it felt calming and welcoming.
Without saying a word, she presented me a cup of tea.
I took a sip.