Lavender Pen Novels & Stories

PRINCESS EMERIEL “This one.” Emeriel lifted a small vial to her nose, the golden oil inside glowing in the sunlight. “Sandalwood and amber—perfect for easing tension.” “Too heavy,” Lady Morina said, selecting another vial infused with sage. “You need something that soothes but does not cling so thickly to the skin.” “What about this?” Aekeira reached for a slender vial marked Night’s Calm. “Lavender,” Lady Morina noted with a faint smile. “I like it.”

Lavender's POV The cool, smooth leather of the office couch cushioned me as I sat cross-legged, my notepad balanced on one knee. I leaned forward, the pen in my hand moving swiftly, its tip scratching faintly against the paper. Around me, the soft, lingering scent of roses and bergamot filled the air—remnants of test bottles scattered haphazardly across my desk.

A Vision of Lavender and Light As Analina steps into the grand hall for her birthday celebration, she is greeted by a breathtaking transformation. The room glows in hues of soft lavender and pearlescent white, delicate strands of fairy lights weaving overhead like a canopy of stars. Opulent swags of lavender tulle cascade from the ceiling softly pooling at the corners of the room, where bouquets of fresh lilacs and violets exude a gentle, calming fragrance.

Vinca had painstakingly created this fragrance and it was for her personal use and refused to produce it for sale. The scent created from lavender, Bradford pear tree, and rosemary had taken Vinca months to perfect. She had refused to mass-produce the scent because she wanted something unique for herself. Damont was lost in the past when Ana swaggered in. She knew that look. Damont had it every time he thought about that bitch. How was it possible that whatever she did, he still thought about her? "Mmhh, what's on your mind honey?" Damont was sharply brought back to the present with that screech. He cringed and looked up.

She did not smile, but when she held out her gift, a small linen pouch embroidered with a crescent, her fingers weren't quite steady. "Lavender and cedar," she said. "For the drawers in your room. It keeps the clothes smelling clean." A pause. "It's small." "It's wonderful," I said, and found, a little to my surprise, that I meant that too. "Thank you, Olivia." Her gaze flicked to mine and held, only for a second. Something softer moved behind her composure, there and gone. She dipped her head and stepped back.

Roman whispered, his lips physically brushing the curve of my ear. "It is concentrated lavender oil," I spat back, forcing my vocal cords to project utter, insulted disdain. "I utilize it to neutralize the abrasive odor of gunpowder and stale espresso that your presence leaves in my environment." Roman held his static position for three agonizing seconds, his dark pupils searching my retinas for any microscopic trace of deception. Finally, he stepped backward, a cold, satisfied, arrogant smirk touching the corner of his mouth. "The lavender is an acceptable aesthetic," he murmured, though his tone remained entirely clinical. "However, your emotional volatility is increasing."

Grandpa Hale walked over to Ava carrying a small gift box. “I almost forgot.” Ava looked surprised. “Grandpa…” “You’ve already done so much today.” “This isn’t from the party.” He placed the box in her hands. “It’s from me.” Ava looked at Dominic uncertainly. Dominic simply nodded. “Open it.” She carefully lifted the lid. Inside rested a beautiful silver fountain pen inside a velvet case. It looked elegant without being overly extravagant. Grandpa Hale smiled. “I received that pen when I was much younger and It brought me good fortune.” He looked at Ava kindly.

She’s worried about whether a Luna will like her creams. I walk over and drop down beside her. “You okay?” She holds up a jar like it’s a sacred artifact. “Do you think she’ll like the lavender‑sage blend?” Emily snorts. “She’ll love it. Everyone loves it.” I smile, brushing a strand of hair behind Raven’s ear. “Rave… she’s going to adore it. And even if she didn’t, she’s not coming here to judge your skincare line.” Raven huffs. “I know. But she’s a Luna. And she’s powerful. And she’s smart. And she’s...”

“I didn’t think Lavender was so potent.” “It’s not. Well, typical lavender isn’t.” “So, what’s this?” “My personal recipe.” She offered nothing more. “So, it’s lavender and what, exactly?” “Oils. Muddled lavender collected at midnight and oils.” “And that’s going to put me to sleep?” Deidre’s eyes slit at the question, clearly defensive of her work. “If you drink that entire vile you’ll be out for three weeks.” I put the vile down. “I would prefer you to uh, test it, however, before the evening of the event. I’d prefer not to deal with any adverse side effects on the night of.”

That red, once so radiant, now carries the undertones of danger, a warning masked by the allure of its intensity. In contrast, Shane, the vivacious lavender, has consistently unfolded in my life like an enchanting blossom, infusing every moment with a lively fragrance. It's not merely a color; it's a symphony of soothing notes, a gentle melody that resonates with the serenity of a lavender field in full bloom. Shane's presence has been a vibrant brushstroke, painting my world with hues of calmness and joy.