Misa gazed at the array of flowers arranged on the ground, each holding different colors and shapes. Most were in bundles of the same kind, tied at the stem with soft, silky ribbons.
“Do you want one?” Royle asked from beside her.
Misa sighed. She straightened her back and took the opportunity to stretch. The flowers were beautiful, bright, vibrant. Like Hethel. Misa had wanted to get something for the girl as a token of their friendship, the final offer to repair what had been broken, but she did not want to use any more of Royle’s money.
“No,” she said, heaving out a sigh. “We should go find Torren.”
“You can buy one if you want,” Royle said. “I’m sure it doesn’t cost much.”
“Royle.” Misa looked at him with guilt and exasperation. “You’ve already done enough
