When I wrote the first draft of A Blossom at Midnight, I included the points of view of several characters in addition to Jessamine, Laec and Çifta. Those points of view were deleted in later edits. Here is a short, 1600 word scene written from the point of view of Aster. Please forgive any mistakes, this deleted scene did not undergo final edits. Enjoy!

Deleted Scene: aster

Aster rapped on the arched wooden door leading to Ilishec’s workspace. The sound of quiet weeping drifted through the keyhole and under the cracks at the base. Surprised, she leaned down and cocked her head so she could hear better. It was very early, the sun hadn’t long been up, but already someone needed comforting? When the door swung wide, she straightened like a marionette on strings suddenly pulled taut.

The kind face of Ilishec’s wife, Hazel, peered up at her. She wore a crown of curlers even though her hair was too short to wrap fully around them. Her eyes were caught in nets of wrinkles as she smiled and stepped aside. “Hello, Lotus. Come in.”

Ilishec looked over from across the room, one hand on the shoulder of a weeping Calyx. “That’s Aster, dear.”

“I know it’s Aster.” Hazel picked up the hem of her skirt and marched outside. Aster heard her start to hum.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Aster.” Ilishec said.

Aster nodded and moved a stack of books from a seat to the huge worktable so she could sit. The room was overflowing with encyclopedic volumes, illustrated collections of botanicals and insects, historic journals penned by former Royal Gardeners, illuminated manuscripts, terrariums and bell jars filled with living or dried species. Stained glass windows made rainbows across the walls, floors and furniture. It smelled like rich soil, fragrant flowers and nutrient-dense mulch.

Ilishec lowered his voice, but Aster felt no need to eavesdrop. The upset Calyx was Gardenia, a pale willowy girl with a fragile beauty. She should have guessed. Gardenias were tender plants, so she too was tender, whether or not she was born that way. The magic of the Calyx was not without a price. Aster gazed around the room as Ilishec muttered comforting words. He would do so until Gardenia’s tears abated. Aster had long thought Ilishec was some kind of saint. No matter how many times per week a sensitive Calyx complained of some irritation or strife, Ilishec greeted them with compassion and patience. It might be a fellow Calyx invading their space or making them feel crawly. It might be a simple lack of sunlight, or overeating or drinking making them lethargic or whiny. It might be some nutrient deficiency for a few of the notoriously needy specimens that Ilishec must deduce and rectify. Whatever it was, the Royal Gardener did not relent until he found a solution.

Aster herself had to be coddled in the early days, before her magic matured. The species she represented were hardy but late-blooming. At times Aster’s nerves were frayed by the complaints of the more tender and emotionally fragile Calyx, but she admired Ilishec’s endless equanimity and tolerance so much that she resolved to foster the same level of forbearance as their master. While she was Calyx she could never achieve it, she was too subject to the nature of her magic, but it was one thing to look forward to after her time at the palace came to an end.

For the most part, Ilishec managed to keep all the Calyx healthy and balanced. His staff–consisting of estheticians,  nutritionists, and practitioners specially oriented to aid flora fae–were trained to ensure the retinue were kept as close to peak productivity as is possible. The royals at Solana, from time to time, welcome unexpected guests for whom the Calyx were expected to perform with no more than a few hours’ warning.

Aster waited patiently until Gardenia was not quite smiling but was much improved. She perched on the edge of a worktable, facing the stained glass. She stood, towering over the gardener, and as she turned to give Ilishec a hug of gratitude, Aster was once again struck by Gardenia’s unusual beauty.

Gardenia brought new meaning to the word ‘fair’. She was six-foot one inch tall, with endless slender limbs encased with soft skin the color of fresh cream. Her neck alone was enough to send the artists retained at the palace into paroxysms of pleasure. Her hair looked like some alchemical blend of spun silver and gold, a shade of unusual creamy white. Her eyes were the color of ash and her brows and eyelashes glimmered in the light. Her wide mouth was expressive and palest pink. Aster had heard her referred to as the graceful ghost by courtiers who didn’t know or couldn’t remember her name. Her green, powdery scent was among the most prized and expensive to come out of the perfumery, surpassing even Rose’s.

Gardenia glided to the exit, favoring Aster with an embarrassed smile as she ducked her head to fit under the doorframe. Aster felt a moment of pity but squashed it, reminding herself that when Gardenia left the Calyx she’d be a very wealthy fae. If humiliating displays of emotion were what she had to endure, it would be more than worth it.

“Aster.” Ilishec crossed the stone floor and worn carpet to a deep marble sink to wash his hands. He washed many times per day as he moved between tasks.

She joined him near the window, leaning on the marble countertop, scanning the bell jars filled with interesting species. The majority of the contents originated from earth, since Terran species were the only kind the Calyx could connect to with their magic.

“How was the festival at Dagevli?” Ilishec plucked a towel from a stack, dried his hands and tossed it into a basket beneath the table. “Were they happy?”

“Very. The party was still raging when we left. I have a feeling many of the villagers woke this morning with aching feet and heads.”

“Good.” Ilishec had warm brown eyes offset by a long sweep of wavy gray hair which he kept tied back with a ribbon. He had a thick but shapely beard and moustache which Aster knew was groomed three times a week by the Calyx’s own estheticians. He was not tall but sturdy, strong with rounded muscles from years of labor in the gardens and hothouses. He had gained a small slope below his chest that wasn’t there when Aster joined the retinue. The belly and the hair were the only features that betrayed his age. His face was wise but not old, smooth but not child-like. To Aster, he was ageless.

“I met a half-fae girl named Jessica.” Aster watched Trea flutter in through the open door, looking for her after his breakfast sojourn in the gardens. He floated across the room to land on her shoulder.

“Oh?” Ilishec leaned his knuckles on the table, giving Aster his full attention.

“She has a familiar, a mammal but the smallest I’ve ever seen.”

“A bat or a bird?”

“A bat.”

“Probably a fruit bat.”

“She said he eats insects, too.”

Ilishec went to an open text and flipped to the index where he combed down the page with a blunt finger. “Perhaps a bumblebee bat. They don’t get much larger than the end of a thumb, at least not in the wild.”

Flora fae could only bond with pollenating species that originated on earth, species that immigrated thousands of years ago but had not mixed with fae species and kept their original integrity. Species of insects or animals who cross-bred with fae species lost their ability to bond with flora fae, they became too wild, too strong in their own magic to need a connection.

“That looks a little like him.” She peered over Ilishec’s shoulder at the illustration in the book. “He had a cute little snout. His name is Beazle. She also claimed to have a second familiar, but I didn’t meet him.”

Ilishec lifted his gaze from the reference tome, arching a brow.

Aster noticed at his skepticism. “She didn’t strike me as the lying type. It was obvious she’d never been exposed to Calyx before; her wonder was absolute. I think she’s telling the truth, though I didn’t think it was possible to have two familiars. I thought I’d ask you about it.”

Ilishec straightened. “I’ve never seen any flora fae with two familiars, though I came across a reference in one of the older journals. I’d have a devil of a time finding it again, but I’ll look. Hazel might remember. I’ll ask her tonight.”

“So it’s possible?”

“There might be one or two unusual scenarios where it is theoretically possible.”

Aster frowned. “What was even more odd was that her mother discourages her from coming to Discovery. The girl thinks she’s too old because the announcement stipulated that only children between ten and fifteen were invited.”

Ilishec chewed his bottom lip. “Did you meet her mother?”

“No, and the girl took pains to hide her ears from me. Her mother’s been keeping her features hidden.”

Ilishec made a considering sound in his throat.

Aster thought she knew what it meant. “Dagevli isn’t far. Most of a day’s journey, it would be faster if you went with a small party. Perhaps you can convince her mother to let her come?”

“Perhaps.” Ilishec’s gaze retreated.

Aster felt he was on the edge of the decision. “I know you’re busy, but I thought since we have several Calyx leaving at the end of the season-”

Ilishec nodded. “We have spaces to fill. We’re losing some spectacular species, too. The queen is insistent that we fill all the spots before the new season.”

“Who knows what she might be capable of. Even if she’s only a daisy, or a buttercup…”

Ilishec gauged the quality of the light spilling in through the glass. “If we leave right away, we can be back by dark, assuming you’ll join me of course.”

“I’d love to!” 

He gave her a sharp, inquisitive look. “Did you get the mother’s name?”

“Marion Fontana. Would you like me to visit the aviary for you? Let her know we’re coming?”

Ilishec smiled. “You’re a treasure.”

Aster grinned. “Don’t I know it.”

End of excerpt

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