Chapter eight 

Clover rolled her carrots along her plate with her fork, she had hoped no one noticed the red swelling under her eyes, but Cyrus had immediately taken notice, and tried to find the course. She had tried to tell him she was alright, but he didn’t believe her, mostly because the bond had grown stronger, strong enough that she felt his every mood, as he probably did hers. It didn’t make nerves any better knowing he felt her every twinge of sadness and fear. 

“Pppsss,” Aster whispered,  “ppsss,” she flicked a pea onto Clover's plates, which finally caught her attention. “Clove, are you okay?” 

“Clover nodded at her sister, then resumed playing with her food, but not eating it. 

Aster frowned, and looked over Basil both sharing the same concerned look. Aster turned her face to Cyrus, beginning to glare at him mercilessly.  

Clover hardly touches her dessert when it comes, staring into space. Cayrus watched, his hands gripping tight onto his chair, he hated watching her like this, she wasn’t the clover he had first made, she was the shell of that girl. He gritted his teeth, “clover?” She snapped her head up, staring at him startled. “How is the cake?” 

Ophilias eyes lit up at her brother's question, “please tell me Clover, I hired one of the best chefs in the kingdom. This cake is his specialty.” 

“Oh, um, it’s nice,” Clover reliped dimly, Cyrus frowned, she loved sweets, everytime smelt or even saw a cake, pastry, or pudding, he felt a wave of excitement and joy from her. 

“Nice? That's it?” Ophilia spoke, she passed her brother a puzzled look. 

“It’s delicious!” Clover quickly bursted out, “one of the best cakes i’ve ever tasted.” She took a huge bite out of her slice of cake. He hummed as if it were heaven. 

Once the meal was done, Clover sprinted out from her chair, Basil and Aster close behind, Ophilia watched as she left, her brows furrowed. 

“What's going on?” she sighed to her brother, 

Cyrus slumped his shoulders, “by hell's i wish i knew,”  

“You must have done something, she’s walking around like the dead.” she gave Cyrus a scrutinising look, folding her arms. “She’s been nothing but energy with me, lovely and chatty.” she informed me, “you’ve done something, i know you have.” 

“Why is everything my fault,” he grumbled, 

“Because, it always is,” she said as if fact. “Now how are you going to make it up to her?” 

“I do not know what i have even done, how do you fucking suspose i make ammends?” he spat out with anger. 

Ophilia stared taken back, her brother had never used that tone with her before. She set her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it isn’t too bad,” she tried to soothe, he must truly be upset if he has become this angry. “She likes flowers, why not bring her some, as an apology,” 

“An apology for what?” His tone was flat and defeated. Ophilias heart squeezed, he hadn’t been like this, since, since, their parents had died. She gulped at the memory, shaking her head to get rid of it before it fully emerged. 

“Just try it, I know she’d love it.” 

“Plain garden flowers?” he shook his head, “she deserves more than that, 

Ophilia smiled, she wrapped her arms around his large shoulders, “she’s lucky to have you, the Goddess chose well.” 

Cyrus was quiet for a moment, till he abruptly jumped up off his chair, Ophilia scrambling to not fall off her seat at the movement. 

“I have it!” he cheered, grinning ear to ear, “i know what i can.” he began to march towards the doors like a man on a mission. 

“Your welcome,” Ophilia murmured, being left in the empty dining hall. 

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