The Gardener’s Son
|“If I came upon a wasp’s nest and cried for help, what would you do?” Shauna interrogated her suitors.
“I’d set it aflame, kill the vermin. All for you, My lady.” The scribe puffed out his chest, checking her over like cattle.
“Wrong answer,” she said.
“I’d lead you away, and take care not to anger the adults. When the young have hatched, I’d bind you a bouquet from the nest, with red roses and gardenia.”
Shauna smiled. The gardener’s son wasn’t much to look at, but his words caressed like velvet. She went down on one knee.