Since Hongjoong still recovered from his wounds, Seonghwa went easy on him with activities. Ever since finding out about Hongjoong's gender, the earl urged him to do sports together. After exploring Hongjoong's body in great detail, the difference in physical strength had come to the man's attention, and he had been flabbergasted to find out how steeled Hongjoong's muscles were from years of working in the slums. Hurt in his ego, Seonghwa had demanded fair sports challenges to see what Hongjoong had hidden behind his dresses and dainty gestures for all these months.

Jongho's reminder that Hongjoong's injuries needed rest postponed Seonghwa's eagerness. Thus, the earl had come up with some projects that were slower on Hongjoong's body. In a fashion much opposite of Seonghwa allowing Hongjoong to escape female duties while he had pretended to be a woman, they sat down to do flower arrangements. The calming task offered time to spend with the servants and with each other without hurting anyone. The curiosity of their three friends exceeded the usual relationship a master would have with his servants, but Seonghwa had always advertised himself as an earl unlike any alternative. From how much he had learnt about Seonghwa's differences to others in his society, Hongjoong believed it. He enjoyed spending time with all four of them.

Mingi and Jongho had cut a lot of flowers in the gardens in the morning that would either die soon as the temperatures dropped further or that thrived under the same conditions. They brought fir branches, rose hips, dried grasses from Seonghwa's collection, and a bunch of colourful flowers they could combine however they wanted.

When Seonghwa had led Hongjoong into the kitchen to find the servants sorting away at the assortment with thick gloves to protect their hands, Hongjoong's mouth dropped open. Similar to the indoor garden in the back, the kitchen smelt like an entire meadow Hongjoong wanted to throw himself into. The thick scent of the firs and their cones was most prominent, and it matched the mood of the winter holidays.

With a chuckle, Seonghwa had pulled out a chair for Hongjoong and urged him to sit down. His patient fingers covered Hongjoong's hands with gloves.

"Here, we don't want them to gather more scars."

Hongjoong knew only a fraction of the flowers on the table. Some of them, he had been gifted by Seonghwa before. Others he swore he had never seen in his life, despite his visits to the garden and its exotic beauties.

Jongho clipped the ends off some roses and snickered at Hongjoong's amazement at the number of flowers.

"Don't worry, we still have some outside; we didn't relocate the entire garden. Pick anything you want. If you wish, I can fetch you your book with flower meanings?"

"No, it's fine," Hongjoong muttered as he got comfortable next to Seonghwa. "I have my personal source of infinite flower wisdom right here."

Seonghwa chuckled bashfully at the comment. He reached for the water basin to wash off the earth staining the things he picked.

Emily perched on a chair at the counter, since the table offered little more space. She worked intricately on a fir garland that carried mistletoes, rose hips, and some brown sedges that sprawled from it like rays of the sun. It was a work in progress still, so Hongjoong didn't comment too much even though he would have loved to learn the same skill.

Back in the slums, Hongjoong hadn't been interested in flowers; not for their meaning, and not for their dainty looks that withered so quickly. Flowers had no use to him in a cold and harsh world.

But here, they meant a little ray of happiness. Signs of life in an otherwise grey haze. They would wilt and they would droop, but Seonghwa would preserve them, since their lives were precious, and they never lost their beauty if treated right.

Hongjoong always chortled about Seonghwa's irrelevant hobbies that wouldn't get him through the winter in the slums. A man like Seonghwa wouldn't survive there if he didn't sell his body like the prostitutes he belittled so much. Yet, that didn't matter in Seonghwa's world. Here, flowers could be all that mattered and Hongjoong appreciated the change of pace. It had him slow down, had him reconsider his bitterness. Had him rest his injuries where he usually would push his body harder for slowing him down with its weakness.

"You might want to start out with roses, they are in every popular array," Seonghwa suggested when he mistook Hongjoong's hesitation for complexity. Hongjoong snapped out of his thoughts to look among the different-coloured roses Seonghwa cultivated.

"I won't do a popular one," Hongjoong said with a mysterious smile. Intrigue glinted in Seonghwa's eyes as he reached for a bunch of red roses.

"In that case, you can do whatever you wish. You can pick a vase, then you can show it off somewhere in the house later." Seonghwa beckoned at the row of vases Mingi carried from the shelf in the living room to the kitchen. Some were tall and slender, others had the small, round shape of an urn. They were pretty enough that Hongjoong worried they might be prettier than his flowers.

"I'll see which one fits after I'm finished," Hongjoong announced before he concentrated on the table. Jongho made his own composition that was most likely for Seonghwa's room; Mingi weaved stalks with an elegance that looked as if his fingers were dancing, and Seonghwa grabbed a flower from each pile to bunch them all together.

Hongjoong's gaze was attracted to the black Scabiosa. It was so similar to the one Seonghwa had gifted Hongjoong, that had disclosed his blossoming feelings for the first time. Its velvety petals bedded the light purple feelers like a night sky showcasing its stars. Hongjoong never had a favourite flower until Seonghwa had gifted it to him, but his heart was drawn to it now.

When he reached for it, Mingi threw him a curious gaze but didn't comment. Hongjoong's eyes skimmed over the table while he picked a few greens to go with it. Rather than meaning, he decided upon appearance for those, and he liked how Rosemary matched with his dark knights.

"What is the meaning of rosemary?" Hongjoong clipped off a few stalks and sorted the Scabiosa between the leafy greens.

"It can be a spice or a medicine." Seonghwa didn't look up from his flowers as he tucked yet another enormous flower into the round collection in front of him. "You can use it for funerals as a symbol of remembrance, or on a wedding to show loyalty."

Hongjoong nodded to himself, satisfied with that. He liked how the dark colours combined and matched winter.

He picked out a couple of berries next. He had never noticed berries in flower arrangements, but they sounded like an excellent addition to his. When he reached for them hesitantly, Mingi beckoned at him to go ahead.

"Just don't eat them; they are poisonous."

Seonghwa peered at the spindly stalk rich with round berries. He nodded at them once more as Hongjoong tucked them between his flowers. He didn't cut off the leaves since he liked their shape around the berries, but now his arrangement had become very green.

"An excellent pick for a winter assortment," Jongho commented. His warm smile lit up the room.

Nodding to himself, Hongjoong went on his hunt again. He found some leaves of various plants that had got stuck between the flowers during the cutting work and threw them all in. From the ground near Jongho's feet, he even picked up the gnarly branch of hawthorn that the butler had thrown away for the lack of use, but Hongjoong found the moss-covered twigs matched his combination.

When he was about done with what he considered looking like a winter bouquet, he added another flower spontaneously. His arrangement lacked the smallest bit of colour, though the red and black went well with the greens. On the other hand, he didn't want a new colour to obtrude in the harmony.

Hongjoong's eyes searched the table. He was fully invested in his task, not minding the others at work. For now, he only wanted to satisfy his intrigue with his first-ever bouquet design. Seonghwa's were so expertly done they lost their creative charm, but Hongjoong was on to something. With no science, he could gather his flowers so individually.

His eyes flicked between his flowers, and the variety offered to him. When his eyes got stuck on the faint purple feelers of his mourning brides, the idea of taking the same colour as the only additional one blossomed. His eyes scanned the table greedily, spotting a lot of similar colours.

He slowed when he spotted the chrysanthemums. Nobody had touched them yet since they didn't fit the style each of them went for, so they just laid there in their pastel purple hues, waiting to be picked.

Hongjoong moved so slowly as he stretched out his hand for them that Seonghwa didn't pick up on the movement or glanced to comment.

With two sweet chrysanthemums cradled in his hands, Hongjoong reached for the ribbon and the pair of scissors that Mingi had tucked into a corner of the table to use. He cut off a piece and then a bigger one when it didn't suffice. As he bundled the flowers together, the entire bush of them that Seonghwa had in his lap kept brushing his elbow.

When Hongjoong was done, he looked up to catch Jongho's eye. Wordlessly, he beckoned the butler to hand him the round and modest grey urn. Jongho gave him a bright smile and a proud nod at the flowers as he handed it over.

Hongjoong tucked his flowers into the urn with the greatest care not to break anything. He smoothed out the stalks, untucked leaves until they framed the blossoms prettily, and tilted the twig to the left to give it more dynamic. Then he sat back, satisfied.

Nobody else was done yet, so he got to sit on his hands and glow with pride by himself for a while. When he glanced over to Seonghwa, he found the man tying together an arrangement bigger than Hongjoong's torso. The man's hands struggled to keep all the stalks from breaking free through his fingers. With great amusement, Hongjoong watched him tame them. The predominant colours of his bouquet were red and pink, but he had some white undertones in there from the mistletoes.

Hongjoong waited patiently until everyone was done. Emily finished first and jumped to her feet with a toothy grin to see where she could put up the garland. The next was Mingi, and he put the decorations behind the kitchen counter on the sill to the window where the light from outside could cast over the shadows.

Jongho and Seonghwa finished about at the same time. Jongho had just put down the vase with the new bouquet when Seonghwa made a noise of joy after having struggled with the ribbon for ten minutes. Proudly, he lifted his bouquet to dump it into a just as extravagant vase that seemed to drown under the weight of the flowers. Then, his attention shifted over to Hongjoong. The light in his eyes shone brighter and yet softened visibly when he eyed the choice of flowers.

Shy, Hongjoong batted at the urn to push it over to Seonghwa.

"It's for you," Hongjoong murmured when Seonghwa's eyes widened. "As thanks for teaching me many beautiful things about flowers and for sharing your feelings through them."

He blushed a deep red when Seonghwa's fingers delicately cradled the head of a Scabiosa. The eyes flicking between the flower and Hongjoong asked whether Hongjoong knew of their meaning.

Hongjoong said nothing, giving a wordless confirmation to move on. Awed, Seonghwa moved the urn over to his side of the table.

"I will put it next to my bed and treasure it," he promised. The pride in his voice made the attentive servants chuckle.

"Here is yours." Seonghwa pushed the opulent bouquet over that had the poor vase whining under its weight.

Hongjoong laughed at the mass of flowers that greeted him. He could barely make out any he knew as he drowned under their might.

"What does it mean?"

Seonghwa hummed as he watched Hongjoong smell the roses.

"Love," was all he said, sounding ever so casual. Hongjoong nearly fell into the flowers from how sudden embarrassment flared up in him.

Emily giggled, and the two male servants grinned from ear to ear.

Bashful, Hongjoong pulled the dramatic arrangement closer.

"I will treasure it as well," he muttered while the sweet fragrances filled his senses.

Seonghwa reached for his hand under the table to hold it as they moved to make more bouquets until all flowers were used up.