Care Of Paperwhite Narcissus Novels & Stories

Take those porcelain platters back to the kitchen, you useless idiots! Cynthia Vane screamed, her voice echoing sharply off the glass ceiling of the Vance mansion's private solarium. I told you the orchids had to be white, not light pink! Do you want the Duchess of Valmont to think we are running a common garden show? Madam Cynthia, we changed them three times already, the head maid whispered, her hands trembling as she adjusted the silver tea service. The floral vendor said the premium white imports were completely recalled this morning by the customs authority.

Wilhelmina smiled mysteriously. "What big gift is this?" Tawny took off her coat, put on a white coat, and put on a hat. "Here," Wilhelmina said. "Specially for you." Tawny looked, oh my god, there was a whole car full of flowers, and they were lilies. No need to think, she knew for sure it was Leonard. Tawny shook her head, said to Wilhelmina: "Take all those flowers down, put them in nutrient solution, we can't let them go to waste, let's sell them."

And in the hospital room where the smell of disinfectant was everywhere, was the figure of a young man leaning back in discomfort. Her long, slender fingers rested lightly on the bouquet of Tana daisies beside her. The white petals and yellow pistils are small and pretty, making anyone want to protect them.

I did not know yet. The cushion was back to the sofa. The perfume smell was harder to address. I opened two windows and let the evening air move through the room, and after twenty minutes it had faded enough to be manageable. The flowers were still on the side table. The white peonies were still in their paper. I put them in a vase with water and set them back on the table and looked at them for a moment. Then I moved them to the kitchen counter where they would get better light.

I follow her gaze to what looks like perfectly ordinary weeds. “What are they?” “They’re…” She pauses, frowning slightly. “I don’t actually know their proper name. But they’re incredibly rare.” She moves toward them, her entire demeanor shifting to focused interest. “My mother’s journal calls them ‘white tears’ because of their shape, but I’ve never seen the official name written anywhere.” I watch her kneel beside the plants with careful admiration, her fingers hovering over the leaves without touching them. “What do they do?” “They’re part of the antidote for nightshade poisoning.”

That applied to both Nebula Group and Willow. Willow only smiled without any explanation. Meanwhile, Natalie shifted her gaze between Jeffrey and Willow. What was he talking about? The chance encounter at the mall didn't affect Willow that much. On her way home, she bought a bunch of white calla lilies, which she placed in a crystal vase on her bedside. They looked fresh, and Blair gushed about how beautiful they were. She complimented Willow's handiwork, too. Willow turned the vase with a light smile on her face.

My hand instinctively wrapped around it as I brought the banquet closer to my face, my eyes darted across it, and that's when I noticed the soft pink carnations and delicate white Alpine roses on it, all perfectly arranged and tied with beautiful ivory satin ribbon. The scent deepened, and for no apparent reason, my eyes fluttered closed as I took in the incredible scent. "Who kept this?" I paused as my eyes darted across the side of it and a white paper that I had not noticed earlier was shoved into the side, my brows folded into a deep crease, I looked around my room, my lips pressing into a thin line. I carefully placed the bouquet down reaching out for the piece of paper. I rubbed my tem

Snatching up a strip of test paper, I spray a bit on the end, then do the same on another paper with the fake. Handing the first to the mortified she-wolf, I explain, “Top notes of moonflower, night-blooming jasmine, and rare orchids, with basenotes of wolfswood and patchouli.” Exchanging the papers I elaborate, “But this one doesn’t have the orchids or wolfswood, which are extremely expensive and difficult to find. Instead it has aconite, which smells similar and is infinitely cheaper, but it can also be quite toxic if you have long-term exposure.”

There was a small, seemingly soft bed with white bed sheet laid over it, whereas two candles on an oblong table were the only source of light in the room. Four large pots respectively containing Peonies, Roses, white Lilies and Freesias stood at the four corners of the space, their heady, sweet and floral mingling fragrance that soothed the room with ventilation. A smaller pot of Peony sat on the table alongside potion vials of several-colored potions and a few apothecary Jars. Looking under the table, there were two water-filled ceramics Jars, a wooden mortar-pestle and a long-handle mahogany spoon leaning against the wall beside a portable cauldron.

“Something for an apology.” I nearly scoffed. “Big mistake, huh?” The man shrugged. “Something like that.” I nodded, turning toward one of the smaller displays. “Well, you can’t go wrong with blue hyacinths. They symbolize regret and asking for forgiveness. If you’re looking for something more sincere, white tulips are a good choice, too.” I plucked a single blue hyacinth from its vase and handed it over. “Simple but effective.” The man accepted it, his fingers brushing against mine briefly. It was the lightest contact, but it sent a jolt of awareness through my nerves.