The gardens weren't helping. Genevieve walked the manicured pathways, careful of flowering branches. She barely paid attention to the colored, smells, or even the people. Her mind was reeling. She couldn't stop thinking of when he proposed. It had been but a few days ago. Genevieve's minds eye recalled the sunlight basking Motto's face in a warm glow. His eyes, beautiful, soulful, utterly captured her. His hand had been so gentle, take her own in his. And his words. Genevieve recalled them, her hands curled into fists.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"... I shall not take you from your kingdom or purchase you like a mere jewel. I would have thee as my bride. My Lady,..will you take me?”</span><br/><br/>Purchase. Genevieve's hair was disturbed as she shook her head, a rueful smile pulling at her lips. "Purchase..." Without realizing it, Genevieve found herself amongst high hedges, however her thoughts were still lost. He had purchased her. And what was worse, he didn't tell her. She had to find out from Setaphina.<br/><br/>...Setaphina.<br/><br/>It was so hard for Genevieve to control her thoughts as they returned to her worry of the woman. The General's daughter. Motto's trusted General. There was a pain her chest. Motto didn't seem to know Setaphina, but could she trust that assumption? The woman had been very friendly with the King. And the General...how could Motto trust him and yet, not know who his daughter was? Why had they paid such a price for her to wed Motto, when the General's own daughter was of age, Gilthlore nobility. Faldothia was small, surrounded on all sides by other countries much larger than it's own. It had only been through careful alliances had her home even stood on it's own. Gilthlore didn't need an alliance with Faldothia, but rather the other way around.<br/><br/>Genevieve sat upon a stone bench. The legs were carved to resemble the paws of a lion. Intricate guiding had been melted into a ribbon around the edge of the seat, but Genevieve wasn't paying attention to the details around her, although, she did notice the falling blossoms of a flowering tree just overhead. What was she to do? She was a mess of emotions: anger, confusion, sadness, determination. Genevieve didn't know which was which and why she felt so many! Under all of it, despite how upset she was, Genevieve still felt her heart yearning for the King.<br/><br/>Genevieve slumped, a hand was pressed to her head, her hair falling about her face. She was mercifully alone. It seemed those about the gardens either had other things to attend to, or felt her negative energy and sought out work elsewhere. She was conflicted. She wanted to confront Motto. Get an explanation from him. Surely there was one? But also, if she did..would he cast her aside? Guilt washed over Genevieve. He was not that kind of man, but she hadn't thought he was a liar either. An almost perfect blossom fell upon Genevieve's lap. She picked it up gently, her fingers tracing the petals, careful of its delicate state.