rex populi
The midday sun cascaded beautifully through the glass ceiling and walls of the Green House, splashing the world in bright colors. Everything seemed to shimmer with the light, from the expansive windows to the water droplets clinging to the recently watered leaves. Green House employees wandered up and down the curated flora, tending to the lines of rare and exotic plants.
A dark form stood ponderously along a line of royal blue perennials, the tresses of his cloak just barely brushing the tallest flowers. Draped in dour tones, Count Alicio's attention wasn't on the sun-kissed scenery, or the intricate beauty of the gardens, but on the small, cold crystal enclosed in his fist
Alicio was under a tremendous amount of pressure; he was helping to oversee the creation of refugee cities on two separate worlds, Lujo and Chaldea, not to mention the work in Sanctuary City, or the nights he spent awake, thinking about his vision. He already felt himself stretched thin. So why was he here?
His bodyguard, Ivarra, had strongly suggested he take the day off. Her words echoed in his head; 'You have to remember to stop and smell the roses every once in a while, young Alicio.' Then she suggested he go to a garden. Ivarra had a funny sense of humor.
But standing here, doing nothing? It didn't make him feel relaxed. It made him feel selfish.
- Rianna Organa -
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