Flora's Photo
Flora Margaretta Augusta Zogg stood rigid, her feet wobbling beneath her, boots digging into the cushion of the chair. Her light brown curls had been perfectly arranged for the occasion, and layers of white ruffles rustled around her as she tried to stand still for the photo. It was hard to do, though, without holding on. Luckily the wood-carved chair back was almost as tall as she was, providing the stability she needed. Stability was a luxury indeed for four-year-old Flora. She was still missing her mother, although the two had been separated for more than a year now. Uncertainty was her constant companion, only slightly alleviated by the comforting presence of her grandparents, cousins… and of course her imposing father. Mathias furrowed his dark brow as he looked on, ensuring that Flora was appropriately composed, embodying the powerful names he had given her. She had outgrown the bracelet his parents had gifted her as an infant, carefully chosen with the word “Darling” engrav...