Delicate Flowers Hollow Knight Novels & Stories

A girl named Shira asked. " Tonight. Xander will be transformed in three weeks time. I will arrange your marriage with him so that I can save our kind." " This is good news,my queen. I can't wait to become Xander's bride."She happily left the throne room. Shira is a vampire. She is 100 years old but the fact that vampire doesn't age made her look like a teenager. Queen Kate and her father had been friends for ages. This friendship could have led to marriage but along the line Kate fell in love with a human.

Their slender stems shimmered like polished silver. Their petals were a deep midnight blue that shifted toward violet whenever sunlight touched them. I had walked past this place yesterday. They hadn't been here. Zenith knelt carefully. "They're beautiful." She reached toward one before hesitating. "I don't think I should pick them." Inferno stirred. Not with alarm, rather, with recognition. Before he could speak, another voice answered first. "They survived..." We turned. The First Hollowed stood several paces behind us. His breakfast forgotten. His eyes fixed on the flowers. He approached slowly. Almost reverently. "I never thought I'd see them again."

Had the red-haired woman given them names? Gianna closed her eyes and tried to recall those images from that night. The flowers had been unusual, with petals that seemed to shimmer in the torchlight. Some had been purple with gold centers. Others had been white with veins of silver running through them. There had been vines with leaves that felt almost warm to the touch. The red-haired woman had pointed to one in particular. A flower with deep red petals and a black center that looked almost like an eye. "This one is called Heartbloom," she had said, her voice reverent. "It can heal the deepest wounds. It can cure poisons. It can restore what has been broken."

He was a vampire, obviously, his presence carrying that same unmistakable stillness she had learned to recognize, but she had never seen him before, and outsiders weren't allowed inside the mansion, were they? "Galanthus, so precious, and a beautiful flower resembling purity and hope. While Eranthis, a toxic, poisonous flower just like the people in this palace. They are poles apart yet are being forced to stay in the same place. No wonder galanthus withered faster than their actual time. And look at those vicious things, they still have some life in them." Zinnia wasn't familiar with this much information, yet she couldn't stop herself from saying something, the words slipping out before sh

The blade gleamed with silver threads, and two more knights crumbled, eyes glazing as dream-silk tendrils wrapped around their armor. The remaining riders rallied, lances leveled. Steel rang as they charged, hooves churning earth. Vera backed toward the boulder, chanting again, channels of starlight snaking outward. One rider’s steed reared, sprayed snow, then collapsed in sudden collapse; the next knight yanked at his own helm, swaying. Three mounted knights remained. They wheeled, cutting her off from the gate. Vera licked her lips, breath ragged. She pressed the fang to her palm, closing her eyes and summoning the memory of Ember Hollow’s awakening:

It was a flower. A crystal flower pulsating with demonic energy. The petals were transparent like glass, but inside each petal flowed dark purple energy. The system reacted. [Warning.] [Extreme demonic energy detected.] [Unknown treasure discovered.] Nesca slowly approached. “What kind of flower is this? Why does it seem a petal is missing?” She circled the altar with caution. For a moment, she had forgotten about the danger. It was as if she was drawn to it. The crystal petals shimmered as she moved nearer. “There are eleven petals.”

I looked at Coral, " was that......a compliment?" She laughed, " From Darrell.....oh yes. Mark the day– you've just been knighted." Coral poured herself another cup of tea, then glanced at the list again before setting it aside. "What about flowers?" She asked. "Have you thought about what you'll use to decorate?" "Flowers? It's winter so...." She smiled. "There a few that bloom if you know where to look. Hellebores are hardy and elegant–white, plum and deep rose. Snowdrops are delicate but beautiful. And there's winter jasmine– bright little yellow things that look like hope."

Her delicate facial features were highlighted by the long robe, as were her beautiful curves. It was the Cult Master of the Red Shirt Crusade, Lucy Torg. Lucy Torg was in her thirties, but she took excellent care of her skin. Her skin was supple, so she looked stunning. The four women behind her were her swordsmaids, and they were named after flowers—Blossom Knight, Cymbidium Knight, Bambu Knight, and Crysanth Knight, respectively. They were all beautiful women, and each of them had their own merits.

The symbol inside the Hollow burned into my vision. The compass. My compass. Identical. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “That… can’t be possible,” I whispered. Yet the truth pulsed through the bond, undeniable. The Hollow wasn’t simply born from imbalance. It had once been balance itself. The creature roared, its massive body writhing as silver, gold, and white light clashed against the darkness surrounding it. Cracks spread across its form, revealing flashes of the same radiant energy glowing within me.

“Now *you* sound like royalty.” --- She was crowned that night beneath a sky carved from crystal and void. Not with gold — but a circlet of blackthorn and starlight, a relic passed down from the last Hollow Queen. They etched a mark into her palm, and her blood hissed against the stone. A bond. A title. A promise. But not a prison. *Not this time.* --- By morning, Seraphine and Riven stood before the Hollow Gate, bags packed, weapons hidden beneath their cloaks.