I would describe my tears as little droplets on a tree-branch, clear and elegant yet quiet.
Most of the time, you would overlook a raindrop unless it fell on your face or you were directly staring at it. I believe most people would overlook me if I were just a regular person, but because of the family I was born it is like a direct target to my image.
No longer would my tears be quiet, but instead, it would seem like a storm compared to the outside world. I would not have the advantage of simply venting my feelings, for it would be all over the news if something were imperfect for a perfect family.
For a simple droplet on a branch, it would be as if you could see every molecule of that very droplet. That would best represent how my mother would describe the world outside.
Cruel, judgmental eyes who wouldn't think twice about using you for leverage and plastering your name all over for your competitors to see. A lackey puppet to be used for monetary gain and tabloid purposes, simply a ragged tool.
Still, sometimes I wonder if everyone is just as cruel as she says. I haven't had the chance to meet many people, and when I do, they usually always end up leaving.
Having that in mind, I don't know why I still get so close to people, but maybe with enough pain, I'll eventually get it.
Or not, I guess it takes experience to know, which I hope, in time, I figure out.
"Probably, further into the garden, that was one of the gardeners."
"Really?" Lady Bellum asked, and I nodded, "Yes, there are a few that wander; they tend to want to seem invisible, so you won't see them very much." I tried not to fiddle with my hands as Bertram cherished his flower, giving me a small smile, and I glanced away.
I took a deep breath, pressing my thumb into my palm as the wind lightly blew in my hair. Not even noticing Bertram walking over to me, "Magnolia, are you alright?"
I turn to him, moving an auburn strand out of my face, the sun hitting his emerald eyes like the soft green of the leaves. Catching me off guard for a second, he almost looked genuinely joyous, like an angel almost, but I wouldn't say exactly that just similar to one.
I don't think anyone is actually an angel, not even Charles or Rene', Rene' comes close to one, I'm sure. A heaven-sent lady that I am most grateful to have met, but even she had her secrets that I didn't know about that she kept from everyone. When I think about her connection to my cousin, it lets me know that, remembering the ring and the way he would visit often, something was going on.
Either a deep friendship or of course something more, but that still doesn't make her any less human. The reason I don't believe anyone is an angel is because we all have our faults, we aren't perfect like how angels are portrayed to be. We are flesh and blood, humans who deceive, cower and even love despite all of that. There is still much I have to learn about it all but for now that is what I see.
Bertram's eyes fluttered as he pressed the flower to his cheek, seeming to blush, "You are staring again, Magnolia, you know I don't mind, but I thought you should know."
I blinked back, covering my mouth, quickly looking away, "S-sorry, I suppose I spaced out for a bit." He laughed, "It's okay, like I said, I don't mind." he extended an arm to me, "Walk with me?"
I look back at Lady. Bellum, who fans us away, "Go ahead, I'll be right behind you two." She sighed, "Don't want to get in the middle of your fairytale romance."
I cleared my throat, "That doesn't exist in real life."
Lady. Bellum coughed, "Pessimist."
I turn my head to the side, "What was that?"
"Ignore her, Magnolia, she's just a bit bitter because I'm getting all the attention", he shook his head. "But I won't be long, even if you don't believe fairytales exist, could I at least show you what one might be like?"
"What does that mean?" I raise a brow, and he continued to offer his hand, "You won't know unless you follow me." I ball my fist up, but ultimately take his hand, and he gives me a little twirl, drawing me close before pushing me away.
He starts to head down a little stone path with my hand in his, not walking too fast and keeping an eye on me.
"The world might not be perfect, but there is some beauty in it, maybe not exactly like the fairytales, but probably coming close." His attention was diverted to some azure flowers, where he spotted a cluster of butterflies.
"See, look at that over there, aren't they beautiful?"
We inch closer, stopping a few feet away from the winged creatures, "Their wings come in different colors, and depending on your view, they can mean different things."
I put a finger to my chin and squinted my eyes, "I know, you mentioned something similar earlier when we first arrived, with the monarch. I see butterflies don't fail to amuse you."
His eyes widened, "Oh, you remember that? Sorry, I can tend to repeat myself sometimes." He scratches his head, "At least, we didn't see a yellow one; there are many here compared to where we were at first."
"That is true, and there's no need to apologize, you weren't wrong, butterflies do have a little charm to them."
In the blink of an eye, most of them leave their spot and soar into the sky, signaling Bertram and me to continue our stroll.
"If we are looking at different meanings, I would say the wings of a butterfly represent freedom. Being able to fly to wherever you want, anytime without restriction or judgement, there's a beauty in that, I guess, that I see in many winged creatures." I stated, causing Bertram to stop, "Magnolia, that is...Truly amazing how you put that, poetic."
"Just my opinion, no need to flatter me." "It is not flattery, it is the truth, you have a brilliant mind, and I love to hear you talk."
There he goes again, trying to catch me off guard. Part of it is working, but his kind words won't get him very far. At the end of the day, he is my competitor and a Bellum; he might speak with honey, but at the end of the comb is a bee. Ready to sting when the opportunity presents itself, ready for any threat that comes its way.