Much like the previous morning, Ada took too long to co fetch the breakfast dishes and thus Arabella decided she'd done enough waiting.
The young woman made her way to the garden, hoping to find Edgar out there.
The sight of him kneeling before the flower beds compelled her facial muscles to paint the most beautiful of smiles on her.
She nearly leapt out of her place and hastened in his direction, stopping at a re three feet away from him.
Though the man had noticed her presence long before she stood still, "Morning, Miss. You look radiant today," he pushed his weight up to face her.
"Oh...," the warmth around her cheeks only accentuated, eyes on the flower bed below, "You believe so," she half asked.
"Truly," he affird, "It is as though you are much happier and frankly, if it is the case, I am not complaining," he smirked.
"That is kind of you," she uttered in a quieter tone, however, her smile never dimd, "You seem quite happy yourself,"
"For as long as I am blessed to work at and enjoy this paradise, then I'll always find a way to be happy," his eyes traveled all around the garden surrounding them.
"A paradise indeed," Arabella muttered, her gaze fluttering around similarly to Edgar's, "Are you still planting gravepine trees?" she chirped as if snapping out of a daze.
"I am just about done with them, in fact," Edgar placed the trowel in his hand on the ground, "This was the last bed dedicated to them,"
"What cos next then?" Arabella inquired with glimring eyes; hands clasped together.
Edgar picked one of the two small paper bags resting near the trowel then rose back to his full height in front of Arabella.
"Well," he began, staring at the bag, "I suppose there's no use in keeping it a secret now that you stand here before ," his free hand flew up to scratch the back of his head montarily.
"Keeping what?"
After a sigh, Edgar spoke again, "I have asked permission from the Lady to sow so white rose bushes and...,"
On her toes, Arabella waited with bated breath for the rest of his sentence to co.
"Permission granted," he paraded the small paper bag in hand.
At those words, Arabella's eyelids spread further apart for the green of her gemstones to shine brighter.
"Oh dear! Is it true?"
"Truer than you and I," he nodded, "Co this way," Edgar ushered the young woman towards the rose hedges, "In fact, she wants to make an entire hedge of white roses,"
"That is amazing! May I assist you with it?" she chittered before adding, "Please?"
"Of course," Edgar smiled, amused at the sight of her, "Of course,"
The two marched to the rose hedges where Edgar offered a brand-new apron to Arabella as well as an immaculate pair of gloves.
Neither of the two items fit her properly but she thanked him regardless and took the little trowel he handed her.
Arabella copied each and every action Edgar made, digging at the dirt with her tool then sprinkling so rose seeds before burying the little pips in order to move on to the next pit.
A soft chuckle escaped Edgar, drawing her attention onto him, "You do not need to pull your tongue in that fashion to successfully sow the seeds, you know?"
Abashed by the unlady-like look she must have displayed, her hand chanically sprung to cover her mouth only to freeze in the motion rembering the dirt covering the gloves. Red as a tomato, she practically swallowed her tongue and clamped her lips shut.
Edgar did his best to maintain his composure but ultimately lost to the laughter that bubbled all the way from the heart. It was the very first Arabella had ever witnessed from him.
The young woman kept a hovering hand over her mouth, head bowing lower as though striving to hide among the seeds.
"I am sorry you had to see that," she grumbled under her breath.
"No, please," with a lot of effort, Edgar managed to ta the giggling that had overtaken him, "It was raw and unfiltered," he said, "It was a clear sign you were giving it your all and to , nothing rivals the beauty I find in soone performing a task with their heart and soul,"
"We are having a lot of fun, aren't we?" a familiar voice reached their ears.
They turned to et Edna's approaching figure, a tray of food in her hands.
"Ah... Edna," Edgar stood on his feet, offering her a polite smile.
"Here is your lunch," she not so elegantly pushed the tray into his hands.
"Lunch?" he muttered, eyebrows furrowed at the silver platter.
If Arabella hadn't known any better, she'd have thought Edgar had never before in his life heard of "lunch".
"Yes," Edna glared at him, "It's noon already and you didn't co to eat so I thought sothing must have happened," she threw a glance in Arabella's way, "But now, I see what's holding you back," the maid put emphasis on the word "back", making it pop.
Arabella imdiately hopped to her feet, "Oh! I am sorry for keeping you. Ti flew by, I hadn't even noticed,"
"Please, don't worry," Edgar held a hand up, "Though we should eat,"
Edna interjected, her eyes on Arabella, "Lunch is waiting for her highness in her room," she grimaced a smile.
"Right then," Edgar juggled the tray between his hands in order to pull the gloves off of them, "Shall we continue later?" he smiled at Arabella.
"Of course," she nodded hastily and watched as Edgar turned away to leave.
"Should your highness be dirtying her pure and soft hands with such lowly, peasant tasks?"
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