Is it cheesy to call it love at first sight?

Camilla and I had just turned 13, and we were attending an outdoor tea party late spring, not that I could remember the hostess of the event. As usual, Camilla was drawing attention to herself with the new spells she had learned, eager to attract praise.

Unlike other types of magic, we've never been that great at earth magic, so Camilla was struggling to raise a plant from the ground, getting nothing but a small sprout and tiring herself out. It was a gruesome defeat for us so-called prodigies, but the crowd cheered her on nonetheless. Among the commotion, Eva touched the ground, and with words lost to the noise, sprouted a white carnation flower into a full bloom.

The audience of adults and children audibly “ooh” and “ahh”d, but I was frozen in place from her magnificence. I watched her mother grab her by the arm, and disappear with the dispersing crowd.

“Leo! Leo!” Camilla called to me, and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Did you see that girl? Did you see the flower?”

Still stunned into silence, I could only stare at the white carnation flower. I wanted to know the girl who bloomed this flower in the ground, and in my chest.

I finally snapped out of my daze when Camilla shook me. I promptly grabbed her by the shoulders in return. “We gotta find her, we gotta learn from her!” And we went off in a search.

It took a while to find her; we didn't know her name, and the people who saw her before didn't see where she wandered off to. By time we did find her, the sun was setting, and people were leaving the party in hordes. Eva was all alone in the bushes of the flower garden, hugging her knees. There was dirt all over her dress too. We noticed, of course we noticed, but we were too elated and greedy for her guidance that we didn't question what had happened. Camilla and I immediately overwhelmed her with compliments, and begged her to come by the castle to help us work on our earth magic.

We were relentless, perhaps a bit spoiled and used to getting our way, so she reluctantly agreed. Despite her social standing, she was so shy back then, I doubt she felt she could reject us. We were so thrilled, Camilla made fireworks shoot from her fingertips! We dragged Eva back to the tea party, as we dragged her into our lives.

It was only a week after the tea party that she made an appearance at the castle. She had removed her braids, letting her hair cover her pimpled forehead and beautiful emerald eyes. At the time, I liked to pin up one side of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. Almost instinctively, I took the hair clip out from my hair and offered it to her.

“No, I want my hair down,” Eva had replied.

Camilla's unfiltered enthusiasm couldn't be dampened by such a simple thing as no eye contact. She immediately dragged Eva to our flower garden, which was still blooming as beautifully as it was at the beginning of spring. It was like stepping into a new world, with rose bushes as tall as trees. Our gardener was incredible, managing this masterpiece while working with the poor soil beneath our feet. Through the diligent use of foul-smelling fertilizers, life was brought to these flowers every year as far back as I can remember. Yet, we couldn't feel the life force within it.

“Could you teach us to bloom a flower? We haven't been able to get that down yet...” Camilla admitted, despite her pride.

“I can do it just fine!” I bolstered, placing my hands on the ground aggressively and straining with effort as I recited the spell's words.

“You're using too much of your own energy,” Camilla said gently, just as a small forget-me-not flower sprouted from the earth.

She was right, even if I refused to admit it at the time. “You're just jealous that I can use Earth magic better than you can!” I bitterly retorted, though the words were a gross distortion of the truth.

I really couldn't tap into the earth's energy, it's magic, so I used my own to fake it. Looking back, I guess it started because I wanted to impress Eva, who quietly watched us try to out-do each other with earth magic that day. She didn't teach us anything then, and she didn't have the opportunity to use her own magic either. I can hardly remember the rest of the day due to exhaustion, but I don't even think she spoke until-

The evening breeze blew the hair from her face. Around her left eye was a discolouration, mostly yellow with tints of red. When she realized we noticed, she panicked, and covered the bruise with a hand.

“What happened to your eye?” Camilla asked ignorantly, completely ignoring Eva's external anxiety and heavy breathing. 

Eva lowered her head, and in barely a whisper, she said, “I caused a ruckus at the tea party.”

Camilla, always too close and personal, probed further. “Did someone hit you?”

I thought back to her mother at the tea party, ripping her from the crowd by her arm. Though we didn't see a bruise then, I couldn't help but imagine, “Was it your mother?”

Eva suddenly looked up, alarmed. “N-No, I tripped and fell. I hurt myself.”

Camilla hesitated before placing her hand on Eva's shoulders, putting in care and thought into her actions, and pairing it with a soothing tone instead of her usual rowdiness. “Did your mom hurt you?” Eva didn't answer, instead she just looked to the side with tears springing up in her eyes. “We should tell someone-”

“No!” It was the first time her voice was clear. “You can't tell anyone! She'll kill me if anyone finds out! Please, you can't tell anyone.” Her voice trembled with her body. So, we didn't. We didn't tell anyone, we kept quiet at her request.

“Eva,” Camilla started. “If you ever want to get away from home for a while, you are always welcome here.”

Though she hardly talked to us, Eva took every opportunity she could to visit. Eventually, our father agreed to make her our earth magic teacher officially, despite the fact that she was only a year our senior. Between the lessons (which failed to improve my earth magic), and afternoon tea time together, we came to consider her our best friend.

Camilla was especially close with Eva, sharing thoughts and getting overly excited about romance novels together. Contrary to the repulsion Camilla had to marriage for herself, she was obsessed with the love she found in these novels. Despite having little interest in the genre, I still stuck around for these conversations. Admittedly, I stayed just to listen to Eva talk, because her emotions bloomed as she shared her opinions with us.

Sometime in that summer, during their latest novel discussion, Camilla watched me with a sparkle in her eye. I knew full well what kind of face I wore around Eva, as her helpless admirer I wasn't that helpless. So it was no surprise when Camilla crawled up my arm and snickered at me like she had blackmail material over me. “So,” she dragged out in a singsong. “Eva?” and she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

I pushed her off of me and looked away as the burning sensation rose on my cheeks. “Shut up.”

Camilla twirled in the hallways, following me all the way to my room. “The Prince,” she started, dragging her hand across the air in a rainbow shape, in her usual dramatic fashion. “Falling for the Duchess. She teaches him earth magic, and they create their own magic together; love.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, then slammed the door in her face. I shook my head and covered my face in embarrassment while Camilla whined at the door.

“I won't say anything,” she dragged out in a whine. “I could even help you.”

“I don't trust you.”

She gasped, and I heard a bump on the door. “You don't trust your own beloved twin sister? I am inconsolable,” she teased. Gods, why was I not born an only child? “Seriously though, I'll help you out.”

“Mhm, and how would you 'help' me?”

She giggled from behind the door. “We could plan for a day out, and I could 'get sick' and have to stay home, so you'll go on a date together without me.”

Why do I humor her ideas? “No, I don't want your help. Now, leave me alone!”

You'd think she'd listen, like the proper lady my mother attempted to raise her as, but she made a pact with a demon upon birth to be the biggest annoyance of my life, and she fulfills her assigned purpose well. Camilla persisted for a few months as my wingman, but like I, regrettably she noticed that Eva just didn't feel that way about me. I think I would've been fine with this form of rejection if her latest obsession wasn't on some impoverished farmer revolutionizing Safina Hills. The way she talked about them with so much passion and love, I just couldn't stand the pain of it. Despite knowing nothing about this person (aside from their farming capabilities), the pain morphed into jealousy. So, you could imagine my surprise when the person in question turned out to be a man our age.

In fall of our 13th year, it was Eva's parents who came to the castle for a special dinner, in honor of their incredible daughter. We had always considered Eva self-conscious, but we didn't realize how open she was with the two of us until that dinner.

Eva couldn't even look up in the presence of her mother, closely monitored with a frightened look behind a fake smile.

“Our children have greatly improved with the help of your daughter, James. You must be very proud of her!” My father said, cheeks flushed as he raised his sixth cup of wine to his lips.

James, who adamantly refused alcohol, swung his arm around Eva and pulled her into a side hug. “She's the apple of my eye, My Lord. I'm grateful for your praise.”

Eva's mother, on the other side of her, nudged her with her elbow and whispered something beneath her breath, to which Eva spoke, “I'm glad someone like me could be of use to the royal family, My Lord.”

'Someone like me', my heart sunk. How could anyone make her feel so worthless? How could a gentle person such as herself receive bruises? How could... How could we just allow her mother to abuse her when we knew?

Our fathers cheered again, drinking until my father's liver was half failing and his speech slurred beyond recognition. Our mothers were cheery, watching their husbands sing together for entertainment as they inhaled a platter of assorted berries, majority of them imported from other countries. Though they could be deliciously preserved by magic for travel and storage, they didn't compare to berries picked straight off the bush, as we used to enjoy before droughts destroyed our lands. 

Seeing as though they were distracted, I snuck Eva away from the table, and took her to the library; the only place she seemed to be at peace. Just one more moment.

“You're reading this series, right?” I said, picking up the first part of the trilogy.

As if the rest of the evening hadn't existed, she released the tension radiating off of her back. “Yes! Camilla recommended it, have you started reading it?”

“Yeah, Camilla almost spoiled it all for me. I'm at the part where Henry discovers Emily is the child of a blacksmith.”

“Wasn't her father's death a shock? I didn't pick up on the foreshadowing, but of course that's why she pretended to be a boy. How else could her family make money?” she rambled.

“Don't you feel bad for Henry? She's lied about so much, how can he trust Emily again?”

She gazed at the books on the desk and picked one up to hold it to her chest. “I think,” she said, while smiling softly and staring at nothing in particular. “I think their love will be strong enough in the end.”

I couldn't help but catch her smile. “I hope so.”

Just one more moment with her, because she's going to hate me after this.

Unsurprisingly, my father fell asleep in the hallway on his way back from the toilet. My mother apologized for his behaviour a hundred times, but the Duke just laughed like the jolly man he is. “My men are worse after a battle, this has been the most tame evening I've had in months!” Still, my mother apologized again and again as the staff carried my father to his bedroom. “Before we go, I should use the toilet myself. Please excuse me.”

I was already waiting in the empty hallway by time the Duke finished his business.

“Oh, Leo, my boy! I wouldn't go in there if I were you,” he commented with a chuckle, and waved his hand in front of his nose.

“I need to talk to you,” I said very seriously, unable to meet his eyes.

“Oh, uh, sure, what is it?”

The words sat in my throat because I couldn't find the courage to speak them. When he inquired again, they came up like vomit. “She's being abused! Eva- Eva's being abused by your wife. Can't you see what she's doing to Eva? Where is her confidence? Where is her joy? Your wife, she's taking it all away and I can't watch it anymore!” I didn't mean to cry, but the frustration I felt manifested in that way.

“She- she's...” the Duke stammered.

“You're never home to protect her. If you can't keep her safe at your estate, then we'll take her in.”

The jolly man was stunned into silence. 

Shortly after that dinner, he divorced his wife. From rumors I heard, he claimed to be in love with another, though he remained single for years to come. We never talked about it, but I assumed he made up that excuse so his first wife wouldn't take revenge on Eva for the truth. Because of this, Eva never found out about the conversation we had. She never developed the resentment and hurt towards me I assumed would destroy our friendship. Rather, she bloomed just like a flower after her mother left. As if her happiness was caught in a web of her mother's abuse, she was free and radiated joy everywhere she went. A radiant joy that hasn't dimmed even now.