April 22nd, 1890 - The Selwyn House, London

The fabric of all the lonely
C-Covering only
The fables and hands
The rest is out in the cold

August still was not sure what to think of this, but it was a rare sunny day in London, and Lysander had been charmed by the train on the way over and further by the carriage ride from King's Cross to the Selwyn household. August helped him out of the carriage with his free hand, which Lysander held onto on the way up the stairs to the front door of the house. August rang the doorbell and was let in by the butler, who left them in the entryway when he went to fetch Mrs. Selwyn. August craned his neck up and looked around; Lysander had gone from holding his hand to bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Now remember," August said, looking down at his son, "What are we going to say when we see Mrs. Selwyn?"

"Thank you for the presents," Lysander parroted, although of course once she arrived he ducked behind August's legs, gazing past him with all the shyness a six-year-old could muster.

"Afternoon, Mrs. Selwyn," August said brightly. Lysander waved at her with one hand.

---

  

Freya had thought to cancel this afternoon meeting more than once for a great list of reasons. The foremost of them being the eventual wrath of her husband. She'd hosted others before and regularly had friends over for tea throughout the Season, but she was (purposely) never left alone with a man. Daniel's greatest insecurity was her abandoning him — a fear she still didn't quite understand as the thought had never occurred to her. If he knew she had invited another man over...well, the end result wouldn't be pretty.

Which was why she'd gone to great lengths to ensure he wouldn't. She had carefully listened to his schedule, noting immediately which afternoon would be best. The loyal staff were all instructed to keep their gossip to themselves, as those who weren't loyal would be promptly dismissed. Freya doubted any would speak of it anyway. She had always been generous with their salaries and had little complaints against them. The only questionable variable in their lives was Daniel, and even they knew of his temperament and when to best avoid him.

Today would be fine.

The cook had prepared a neatly arranged tray of biscuits for the boy (and adults) with a tray of tea ready to be made promptly upon arrival. Freya had spent the majority of the past few days hard at work in the garden, wanting to present only the best of her work. The roses were still subpar — a sad result of her extended absence — but everything else was growing in wonderfully. Hopefully, it would delight Lysander at least. Mr. Echelon-Arnost had gone to Hogwarts, too, and as such had the castle's gardens as a comparison. Freya felt her insecurities rise at the thought. Try as she might, her garden would never resemble the majestic nature of Hogwarts.

She followed the butler back in from outside and smiled warmly at her friend. (Acquaintance? Freya still wasn't sure what they were to one another.) "Hello, Mr. Echelon-Arnost." Freya greeted warmly and quirked hello as though she were to peek around his tall form. "Hello Lysander. Did you both have a pleasant trip into London?"

  

Lysander nodded, but stayed behind August's legs. August offered him his hand again and the child latched onto it.

"We're being a little shy," August said easily; he was not enormously surprised that Lysander was nervous about her, even though Mrs. Selwyn did not cut a very imposing figure. His son usually just needed a few minutes to warm up to strangers, because he encountered them so rarely. "Our trip was lovely, though, nice and easy."

---

  

"That's quite alright." She said with a warm smile. An adventure such as the one Mr. Echelon-Arnost had taken Lysander on today would've made her shy as well at six years old. Then again, anything that included leaving their small country manor left Freya feeling shy back then. "I'm glad your trip was easy. I always did enjoy taking the train." She added soon after. It wasn't often anymore she got to, as Daniel widely preferred her to floo wherever, but watching the scenery race by always felt magical.

Freya then gestured towards the back of the house. "The garden is just out there. I had the staff leave a tray of biscuits and some tea, if you'd like." She led the way towards the garden as she spoke.

  

"Yes!" Lysander said at the mention of biscuits; sweets could punctuate awkwardness easy, for children. August grinned as he followed Mrs. Selwyn. The home was well kept, but August was far more interested in the garden; the garden would, in his mind, say more about Mrs. Selwyn than the house, which likely said more about Mr. Selwyn.

Once they entered the greenhouse, Lysander let go of his father's hand and rushed towards the biscuits. He looked up at Mrs. Selwyn. "Can I have one pleeease?" he asked. August, meanwhile, was glancing around, taking in all of it "-this is amazing, Mrs. Selwyn."

---

  

The enchanted greenhouse stretched out before them as Freya stood near the doorway watching his reaction. There were rows of meticulously tended to flowers and greenery in various stages of bloom. Towards the back left corner was a large venomous tentacula with enough wards temporarily cast around it to keep any curious children far from its venomous shoots. The last thing Freya wanted was to poison the handsome boy, to whom she nodded happily and gestured for him to take the whole tray of biscuits if he liked.

She beamed under his praise, a slight blush appearing on her already warm cheeks. "Thank you." She said happily. "It's a labor of love."

  

Lysander shoved a biscuit in his mouth. August, who was a big fan of choosing his battles in parenting, decided to let that one go.

"Which one is your favorite?" August asked, gazing on the expansive greenery around them. It was obvious that Mrs. Selwyn loved her greenhouse; every plant was clearly cared-for, and he recognized several that were difficult to care for.

---

  

Freya stifled a chuckle at the young boy's excitement. She didn't often get to indulge children and took great joy in the few times she did.

Mr. Echelon-Arnost's question was a predictable one, but one she still struggled with how to answer. There were so many types and uses to plants that selecting a favorite felt impossible. Freya looked about the greenhouse as she considered. "I've always been drawn to Moly. The stark contrast between the stem and its flower is striking." She explained as she led them from the door to the pots of flowers. The tall black stems held no leaves, no other pieces to attract attention other than the simple white flower. "What do you think?"

  

"It's in healing potions, isn't it?" August said, the schooltime memory dredging itself up. He looked at the flower curiously. "I see what you mean," he said, "On a normal plant, the flower wouldn't be so striking - but with a stem like that, it is."

---

  

"Some, yes." While Moly wasn't amongst the most common healing potion ingredients, it definitely had its uses. Though, its healing properties weren't why she favored the flower. A stem as dark as that would suggest an equally dark flower, or at the very least something bright petaled. Instead, the simplicity of the ordinaty white flower gave way to hope — to the idea that not everything shrouded in darkness was a lost cause. Much like Daniel.

The thought gave her pause. Freya could hardly articulate the turbulent state of her marriage to a near stranger. How could she explain her need for hope without going into a lengthy explanation about her husband's moods? Freya plucked one of the stems and twirled it before turning her attention back to him and quietly adding, "there's beauty in simplicity.

  

"I can see that," August hummed, "It's a shame that the complicated can distract." They seemed to be speaking in layers; or maybe August was reading too far into things.

---

  

"Complicated is our nature." She added with a soft shrug before gesturing towards the table set up. "Would you like some tea?"

  

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Amazing Set by Stef!