Trafalgar (cont'd)

His hand stretched forth to take hers. “You needn’t worry about whom, or rather to whom I was talking.” Guillaume’s voice was sickly sweet.
“Great. I bet it is your shear joy in life to make me look like an idiot.” he said, as his sister appeared next to him.
“Is it my fault she can’t see me?” Her mouth eased into a smirk.
“Nothing can get in the way of this garden, Florence. I can’t let it.”
“Something, I mean someone, already has.” Florence’s slender fingers gestured to Amilie as her eyes glanced at Guillaume meaningly.
“It slipped.” His face was drawn.
“Don’t let it happen again. Mathieu will be so disappointed.” She snarled. He busied himself with the drawing. He had to refer to dreams for the specifics. Everything- down to colours- had to be spot on.

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