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Flowers fall, love and hate are balanced. Novel Cover

Flowers fall, love and hate are balanced.

In this modern fantasy romance, affection and resentment exist in a fragile state. As symbolic flowers begin to wilt, the protagonists navigate a landscape where every act of love is met with profound bitterness. Their journey examines if healing is possible when past grievances are as heavy as new desires. Amidst shifting loyalties, they must find a balance before their connection vanishes, testing if love can survive such deep-seated emotional weight.
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Chapter 3

Everyone froze until Dorothy stepped forward, a placating smile on her lips.

“That insolent maid spoke out of turn to her mistress. A slap was all she deserved. But your wife”—she gestured toward Andrea—“has no sense of priority, defying her own mother-in-law over a mere servant.”

“Madam, please don’t blame them. It’s my fault.”

Sandra leaned weakly against William’s chest, dabbing the corner of her eye with a handkerchief.

“I fell ill yesterday—I had to let Andrea endure that cut. She must hold a grudge.”

Then she turned a reproachful gaze on Andrea. “But Andrea, I’d get down on my knees and beg your forgiveness if you asked. You shouldn’t take your anger out on Madam.”

Any trace of guilt William had felt toward Andrea evaporated.

“She should be the one kneeling! Begging for your forgiveness! This is what she owes you!”

Too distracted to stay angry, Ariana hurried forward and took Sandra’s hand, her eyes soft with pity.

“Your health comes first. Someone like her isn’t worth your concern.”

Her tone hardened as she glared at Andrea. “Taking her temper out on me is one thing. But if she ever dares direct it at you, I’ll have her locked in the chapel to transcribe scriptures—using her own blood for ink!”

“Exactly, Sandra! Your health is all that matters. Her only value in this house is her usefulness to you.”

Dorothy shot Andrea a sidelong glance.

Andrea let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. Three years of dutiful service, and this was her reward—venomous words.

Cold from her chest wound shot through her, a vise tightening around her heart.

“You’ve all misunderstood. I’m sure Andrea meant no harm.”

Offering a helpless smile, Sandra pulled away from William and walked toward Andrea.

William followed protectively behind, his eyes fixed on Sandra, blind to Andrea whose face had long since lost all color.

The sight stabbed at Andrea’s eyes. She clenched her teeth, biting hard into her lower lip.

“Andrea, it’s all my fault for being so frail. But it’s not something I can control. Ever since three years ago…”

Sandra’s voice hitched. Andrea didn’t miss how William’s hands clenched at that moment, nor the guilt and heartache in his eyes as he looked at Sandra. It made her own three years here feel like a cruel joke.

“You have no idea how much I’ve suffered. I resisted at first, but the pain was unbearable. And it just so happens… only your blood can ease it.”

Sandra stepped closer. Gently, she took Andrea’s hand, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“I was the one who drugged him three years ago. Everything was arranged perfectly, but you slipped through and took what was mine. You should have died.”

A pause, then softer, colder: “Oh, and the blood-letting cure? I invented it. I loved watching you tremble in fear.”

Andrea’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“You—”

“Ah!”

Sandra let out a sharp cry and collapsed to the ground, looking up at Andrea with wounded eyes.

“Andrea, I know you resent me. It’s alright—I deserve it. I only wanted to thank you…”

William’s expression darkened instantly. He carefully helped Sandra up, handed her off to Ariana, then turned a glacial stare on Andrea.

“Andrea! Do you have a death wish?”

Still reeling, Andrea felt William’s hand close around her throat. The grip was so brutal her pale face flushed crimson in an instant.

“I… didn’t…”

“William! What are you doing? Let her go!”

Sandra beat at his arm, urgent tears welling.

“Sandra, you’re always too kind, always thinking of others. But she doesn’t just reject your kindness—she dares to hurt you!”

“Don’t worry. I’m only teaching her a lesson. I won’t injure her and delay the next treatment.”

William shoved Andrea away and pulled Sandra into his arms.

“Know your place. Don’t covet what was never meant to be yours.”

Andrea fell to the ground, coughing violently, her face paler than ever.

“What was never meant to be mine? You?”

She looked at them and laughed coldly.

“Then I don’t want it!”

William frowned deeply, staring at her in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“A divorce. To free you, and to free me.”

“Impossible! You’ll leave this family feet first, or not at all.”

Ariana was the first to react, trembling with rage.

“I will not let you disgrace this family. You’ll die under this roof if that’s what it takes! This is your own doing—you’re the one who shamelessly climbed into my son’s bed!”

Her hand waved sharply. “You will kneel here until you understand your place!”

The matrons behind her stepped forward and forced Andrea to her knees.

She couldn’t resist. They manhandled her, and fresh blood seeped through the bandages on her chest.

“Miss!”

Layla tried to rush forward, but other maids pinned her down.

William merely watched, his indifference cold and complete.

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