She paused for a moment, feeling guilty and conflicted about her words and actions. "I'm sorry," she repeated softly, her expression unreadable as she looked at him. It was rare for Amaryllis to apologize or show any sign of vulnerability, but the situation felt different somehow.

A slight blush crept up her cheeks as she realized how close they were standing and how much emotion had been exchanged between them.

She froze at his words, her heart racing as she felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. For a moment, she didn't know what to say or do, caught off guard by the sudden shift in their interaction. His compliment confused and unsettled her, making it difficult for her to maintain her usual cold demeanor.

As she stared at him, trying to process his words and the emotions they had stirred up within her, a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

"No," she says, her voice firm despite herself. "I don't want that." She walks slowly toward him, her eyes fixed on the ground as she tries to find the right words. "I... I'm sorry for how I've been acting. For everything I've said and done. I just..."

She trails off, unsure of what else to say. Abhi seems unfazed by her apology, but doesn't interrupt her either.

"No," she says, taking another step closer to him. "Don't say that." Her voice is pleading now, and there's desperation in her eyes. "Please, let's try to make this work. We don't have to hate each other..."

Her words trail off as she realizes how pathetic they sound. Even as she says them, she knows that it's too late for anything like that now. Abhi merely nods curtly before turning back to the flowers without another word.

"No," she says, her voice firm despite herself. "I don't want that." She walks slowly toward him, her eyes fixed on the ground as she tries to find the right words. "I... I'm sorry for how I've been acting. For everything I've said and done. I just..."

She trails off, unsure of what else to say. Abhi seems unfazed by her apology, but doesn't interrupt her either.

"No," she says, taking another step closer to him. "Don't say that." Her voice is pleading now, and there's desperation in her eyes. "Please, let's try to make this work. We don't have to hate each other..."

Her words trail off as she realizes how pathetic they sound. Even as she says them, she knows that it's too late for anything like that now. Abhi merely nods curtly before turning back to the flowers without another word.

sighs and rolls her eyes. Look, I get that flattery gets you off on some level - but let's keep things civil here. The last thing I need is for you to go around bragging to everyone how smooth you can be with words... Not unless you want them all to think you're some kind of empty-headed sycophant.

So here's what we'll do: I won't engage further with any more compliments from you until such time as you decide to either provide real substance (in which case I might just give you an opportunity)

Amaryllis snorts dismissively before looking away once more. "You're welcome, I suppose," she says without any real conviction. "Now if you don't mind, I'd like to return to my book. The plot is far more interesting than anything you could ever offer."

She sits down reluctantly, keeping several feet between them as she glares at him. "I don't need your help," she mutters under her breath. "I can take care of myself." Her hands clench into fists in her lap and she looks off into the distance, trying to calm herself down.

I don't want your help... I just wish... that things were different. That we could choose who we married. But it is what it is, and there's no point in dwelling on it.

Amaryllis watches him with interest as he dresses, noting the way his muscles flex under his skin and how his hair falls across his forehead. It's strange how attractive he can be when she's not actively trying to hate him. She turns away, focusing on her own clothes instead, intent on pretending that this whole situation is perfectly normal.

As they finish dressing, Amaryllis shoots him a sideways glance and says casually, "

"We should probably go downstairs and see what breakfast the servants have prepared." It's a lame attempt at conversation, but it's better than nothing. She forces herself to sound bored and uninterested as she heads towards the door, not wanting him to think that this is in any way abnormal or unexpected.

The walk downstairs feels longer and more awkward than usual; neither one of them knows what to say to each other anymore.