The morning sun illuminated the cobblestone streets of a small town on the outskirts of the French kingdom. Merchants arranged their goods while children chased one another between the market stalls.
Beyond the town square, soldiers marched toward the main road. Their boots struck the ground in steady rhythm, drawing the attention of several townspeople.
"Another regiment leaving," a merchant muttered.
His neighbor shook his head.
"And they'll probably be sending for more men before long."
The two returned to their work.
Despite the war, the market continued to bustle. People still needed food, clothes, and the other necessities of daily life.
Behind a modest stone cottage stood a small garden filled with roses, lilies, and peonies.
A young man knelt beside a row of flowers, pouring water from a ceramic pitcher. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he watched the soil absorb the water.
Lucien Fluermont was nineteen years old, and there was rarely a morning when he didn't tend to his garden.
He stopped beside a rosebush and examined a leaf with a brown edge. After checking the surrounding leaves, he reached for a pair of pruning shears and removed the damaged portion.
"Let's see if that helps."
He set the shears aside and retrieved a battered botanical book from the nearby bench. Several pages had come loose from the binding, but he handled it carefully as he searched for a drawing of the plant.
Flowers... I've always wanted to understand everything about them.
He compared the illustration with the rosebush, tracing a line beneath a paragraph with his finger.
Their colors, their shapes, the way they grow... There's always something new to discover.
Lucien had spent years studying flowers and using whatever spare coins he could gather to buy books. Some were so old that he had to read certain passages several times before understanding them.
But he never grew tired of learning.
Someday, I want to become a royal botanist. If I could study the plants in the royal gardens, I might discover things I've only read about in books.
He closed the book and brushed the soil from its cover.
I know it won't be easy for someone like me. But I'm not giving up.
"Lucien!"
His mother's voice came from the cottage.
He turned to see her standing in the doorway, an apron tied around her waist.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Have you finished watering the garden? The merchant in the neighboring town is expecting his lilies before midday."
"Almost."
"Then finish up and get moving. Your father has prepared the pots for delivery, too."
Lucien placed the book on the bench.
"All right. I'll be ready in a minute."
"And don't spend the entire morning talking to your flowers."
He paused.
"I wasn't talking to them."
"Really? Then who were you asking about the sunlight?"
Lucien stared at her.
"...You heard that?"
His mother smiled.
"Now hurry up."
"Yes, Mother."
---
Inside the cottage, Lucien found his father sitting at a worktable covered with pottery tools. Several glazed vases stood on a shelf beside the window.
His father picked up a small white vase and turned it toward the light.
"Ah, there you are. What do you think of this one?"
Lucien took the vase and examined its shape.
"The glaze came out well. And the pattern around the rim isn't too distracting."
"That's good to hear."
"It'll look nice with white lilies."
His father raised an eyebrow.
"You're judging my pottery by how well it displays flowers now?"
"Of course. What's the point of making a vase if the flowers don't look good in it?"
His father laughed.
"Your mother was right. Every conversation with you somehow returns to flowers."
Lucien returned the vase to the table.
"That's because there's so much to learn about them."
"I know." His father picked up another pot. "And I'm not telling you to stop studying. Just remember that books won't put food on the table by themselves."
"I know, Father."
"Good. Now help us make this delivery on time."
Lucien carried the vases outside, where his mother had prepared a basket of fresh lilies.
She pulled back the linen cloth covering them.
"These are the ones the merchant ordered. I've wrapped the stems to keep them damp, so don't leave the basket sitting in the sun for too long."
Lucien checked the flowers before securing the cloth.
"They look good. They should hold up until we arrive."
"Then let's hope the donkey cooperates today."
A loud bray came from the yard.
Lucien sighed.
"That doesn't sound promising."
His mother handed him the basket.
"Off you go."
---
Barnaby stood beside the cottage, chewing on a mouthful of hay. The grey donkey flicked his ears as Lucien approached with the delivery.
Lucien secured the baskets to the padded frame across Barnaby's back. One held the lilies, while the other contained his father's pottery.
He checked the straps twice before stepping back.
"All right, Barnaby. Let's have a peaceful journey today."
The donkey turned toward a patch of grass beside the fence.
"No. We're not stopping to eat."
Barnaby took a step toward it.
Lucien caught the bridle.
"Come on! The merchant is expecting us."
The donkey planted his hooves.
Lucien pulled gently.
"Don't make me regret bringing you."
Barnaby finally moved.
"That's more like it."
Lucien led him toward the street, keeping one hand on the bridle.
As they passed the market, several children rushed around a vegetable stall, swinging wooden swords at one another. One boy swung too far and struck Lucien's thigh.
"Whoa!"
The boy froze.
Lucien looked down at him.
"Careful there, Captain. You almost defeated the wrong person."
"Sorry!"
"It's fine. Just try not to start a battle in the middle of the market."
Another boy raised his wooden sword.
"Come on! The enemy's getting away!"
"Retreat!" the first boy shouted.
The children scattered between the stalls.
Lucien watched them go before continuing down the street.
At least they're having fun.
His gaze shifted toward the barracks near the town's edge. A group of villagers stood beside a wooden noticeboard, reading a paper bearing the royal seal.
Lucien slowed.
The recruitment officers were returning the following week.
His hand tightened around the bridle.
So soon?
He had heard the rumors, but the official notice made the situation harder to ignore.
Several young men in town had already begun discussing what they would do. Some planned to leave before the officers arrived. Others considered joining the army for the wages.
Lucien wanted no part of the battlefield.
He wanted to study plants, cultivate gardens, and earn a place where his knowledge mattered.
But if the recruitment officers called his name, what choice would he have?
"Lucien!"
He turned at the familiar voice.
Adelaide stood beside the communal well, holding a wooden bucket. She lived three cottages away and had known him since childhood.
She set the bucket down and approached.
"You're leaving already?"
"The merchant wants his flowers before midday."
Adelaide looked at the baskets on Barnaby's back.
"Of course he does. You'd think flowers were more important than anything else in the kingdom."
"Some people would agree with you."
"You're one of those people."
"I never denied it."
She folded her arms.
"My father says the recruitment officers will be back next week."
"I saw the notice."
"Are you worried?"
Lucien looked toward the barracks.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."
Adelaide lowered her voice.
"You could spend some time with the other boys before they arrive. Most of them are going to the tavern tonight."
"And listen to them argue about who can drink the most?"
"Well, when you put it like that..."
"I have a garden to tend and books to read. Besides, if I don't make this delivery, my mother won't have the money for new seeds."
Adelaide studied him.
"You're really going to spend your last few days doing the same things you always do?"
Lucien adjusted one of the baskets.
"What else am I supposed to do?"
"I don't know. Have some fun?"
He gave her a small smile.
"I have fun."
"Talking to flowers doesn't count."
"Why not? They make excellent listeners."
Adelaide let out a laugh before covering her mouth.
"You're impossible."
"So I've been told."
She reached out to stroke Barnaby's neck. The donkey immediately turned his head toward her pocket.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
Lucien caught the bridle before Barnaby could investigate further.
"He's looking for food."
"Does he always do that?"
"Whenever he thinks someone might have something to eat."
Adelaide pulled her hand away.
"At least he knows what he wants."
She looked at Lucien again.
"And what do you want?"
"Right now? To reach the neighboring town before the lilies wilt."
"Lucien, I'm serious."
He stopped adjusting the basket.
For a moment, he searched her face before answering.
"I want to become a royal botanist."
Adelaide blinked.
"You still want to do that?"
"Of course I do."
"Even with the war going on?"
"Especially with the war going on."
He looked down at the flowers.
"People are losing their homes, and families are struggling to get by. Every week, someone hears that a son or brother has been called away to fight."
He ran his fingers along the edge of the basket.
"I can't do much about the war. But I can grow something that makes people's lives a little better."
Adelaide said nothing.
"If I could work in the royal gardens, I'd have access to plants and books I've never seen before. I could learn things that might take a lifetime to discover on my own."
Lucien met her gaze.
"That's what I want."
Adelaide's fingers tightened around the handle of her bucket.
"You're serious about this, aren't you?"
"More than anything."
She looked down at the ground.
"Then I hope you get your chance."
Lucien smiled.
"Thank you."
Adelaide stepped aside as he guided Barnaby toward the road.
"Just promise me you'll be careful. The roads aren't as safe as they used to be."
"I will."
"And keep an eye on Barnaby."
Lucien glanced at the donkey.
"That might be harder."
"Lucien!"
He laughed.
"I'm kidding. I'll be careful."
He started forward, but Adelaide called after him.
"Wait!"
Lucien stopped and looked back.
She hesitated, then tucked her hands behind her back.
"When you come home, bring me something."
"Something?"
"Anything. A story about the neighboring town, perhaps. Or something interesting you saw along the way."
Lucien considered the request.
"All right. I'll see what I can find."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
A smile spread across her face.
"Then I'll see you when you get back."
"See you later, Adelaide."
Lucien turned and continued down the road.
Adelaide remained beside the well, watching him until he disappeared beyond the last row of houses.
---
The cobblestones gave way to a dirt road bordered by tall grass and scattered trees.
Lucien walked beside Barnaby, checking the baskets whenever the road became uneven. The morning sun warmed his neck, and the scent of damp earth drifted from the grass along the roadside.
After reaching a fork in the road, he stopped to check the directions his mother had given him.
"Left at the old stone marker, then straight ahead until the bridge."
He folded the paper and tucked it into his satchel.
"Simple enough."
Barnaby lowered his head toward the grass.
Lucien stared at him.
"No."
The donkey continued chewing.
"We've barely been traveling for half an hour!"
Barnaby flicked his tail.
Lucien sighed and loosened the bridle.
"Fine. One minute."
While Barnaby grazed, Lucien checked the lilies. The cloth around their stems was still damp, and the petals remained firm.
"Good. Let's keep it that way."
He replaced the covering and secured the basket.
As he climbed onto Barnaby's back, a breeze carried the scent of wildflowers from the slope beside the road.
Lucien turned.
Small yellow blossoms grew between the blades of grass. Farther up the slope, several purple flowers stood beside a cluster of stones.
He leaned forward, studying their leaves and petals.
Those purple flowers... Are they a wild variety of iris?
His fingers twitched as he considered climbing the slope to inspect them.
Then he glanced at the basket.
"...Later."
He nudged Barnaby forward.
"Come on. We have a delivery to make."
The donkey started down the road.
Lucien looked back at the flowers once before turning his attention to the path ahead.