Brand did not come often into the garden. He did, however, come today, while Seri was weeding. He brought Nel. Seri glanced up from her plants, half-expecting to see them arm-in-arm. The two of them were talking and laughing, but their arms were full of papers and easels and pencil boxes.

“Seri, we have need of your most beautiful flowers,” Brand declared.

“We’re drawing,” Nel said excitedly. “Seri, you should see all the pretty pencils he owns. And the paper! So thick and white.”

Seri cocked her head. “The Cosmos are in bloom,” she said.

“Yes, they’ll do nicely,” Brand said.

The two of them puttered around the flowers for quite a few minutes. Brand had a device, like a frame with strings crisscrossing it in a checkerboard pattern. He kept peering through it at the flowers. He handed the frame to Nel, and she peered through it as well.

As far as Seri could tell, there was no ulterior motive: they were just here to draw. She went back to weeding. Brand and Nel did eventually plant themselves down and start sketching. Seri glanced at them every now and then, but there was nothing to see. They weren’t even sitting that close together. She heard their pencils moving and the occasional comment. Nothing more.

Finally, Brand put his sketchpad down and stood up. Seri watched him out of the corner of his eye. He came up behind Nel and stared over her shoulder. For a few moments, he was quiet.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“You said you had no experience at drawing,” he remarked.

“Not formally. I sketch sometimes, for fun.”

“This is very good,” Brand said. “Seri, would you like to see? Come look.”

Seri clapped the dirt from her hands and walked over.

Nel had not drawn a single Cosmos, but all of them. She had filled the sketchpad with leaves and stems. And the flowers…. Seri could draw a flower, but it was flat, as if pressed in a book. But Nel’s flowers had dimension. They looked as though they were alive.

“This is beautiful, Nel,” she said.

Nel beamed. “Thanks. I’m just learning. Brand’s been teaching me.”

“Do you want to see my drawing?” Brand asked.

He held it up, and Seri drew a breath. If Nel’s drawing was good, Brand’s was spectacular. They looked like the actual plants, minus the colors. They looked like the drawings in his book. Seri stared at it and at Nel’s drawing and at the flowers. She swallowed.

“It is a very good drawing, Brand.”

“What?” he cried, mockingly. “Seri is paying me a compliment?”

“Should I lie? You have talent.”

“Two compliments? I must be suffering heat stroke.”

Seri rolled her eyes. “You’re terrible, you know that.”

“There’s the Seri I know.”

“I never said you were unskilled at art, I just think—”

“That it’s a waste of time?” Brand asked darkly.

His tone had lost its playfulness. Seri wondered what she had said to offend him.

“I prefer your drawings to your illusions,” Seri said.

“Do you want to learn how to draw?” Nel asked.

“I don’t have your talent.”

“Brand can teach you.”

Seri crossed her arms.

“She doesn’t want to learn,” Brand said. “It’s fine. I prefer not to force her into things she doesn’t enjoy. I prefer willing students.”

And there it was. This heat, this feeling pressing into her. Seri had no idea what to say to this remark, so she said nothing. She went back to her weeding. But she still felt his eyes glued to her, even as she walked away.