Each flower maiden is born with an implanted seed. They look no different from ordinary people when they are young, but once they mature they take on the characteristics of the flower they bear. Their hair takes on the flower's color, and their body takes on the flower's scent. And once a month, a mature maiden blooms. The pleasures these blooming flower maidens provide are what make them so desirable.
A flower maiden in bloom is burdened by intense lust and intense pain that can only be relieved by bedding another woman. During her bloom, flowers appear on the surface of her skin as if they're being painted, and her body becomes perfumed in her floral scent. Men cannot caress flower maidens, for the flowers wilt in their hands.
There exists a grand Loveridge Manor who painstakingly attends to its flower garden, where the flower maiden's pleasures are enjoyed. The garden is a place of entertainment and political fraternization between the region's most powerful noblewomen. The more beautiful and pleasurable of a garden is maintained, the more respect and influence the house gains. At the culmination of a long lineage, the Loveridge family sat atop a mountain of wealth and political power.
I.
Camille sat quietly brushing her hair at the vanity in her bedroom. From her window she could hear the morning birds chirping under the pale green sky. She sleepily ran the brush through her long, silky brown hair as she focused on her reflection in the mirror. In front of her sat a slender and elegant girl with downturned, sleepy green eyes. She gave off a quiet impression; her pink lips pressed together as if she would never speak. She had a natural flush and a beauty mark on the left side of her chin.
The young maiden powdered her face before wearily approaching her wardrobe. Inside the heavy doors, she was confronted with her sparse collection of gowns: one delicate silky pink, one floral lace blue, and two of the plain 'green maiden' uniforms she was assigned at Loveridge Manor. She dressed herself in her short stays and petticoat before begrudgingly putting on her uniform. Seeing herself in the white muslin empire gown and its infantile green sash gave her a tingle of embarrassment under her skin. It was an ugly reminder that despite all her effort and desire, she was not yet a full flower maiden.
Every flower maiden's first bloom came between her 18th and 20th birthdays, but Camille's 21st birthday had come and gone uneventfully. A late bloom was a very rare and revered phenomenon that brought her a looming swarm of admirers. The first bloom of a delayed flower maiden was said to be much more pleasurable and fragrant, and granted good luck and blessings to whoever had the privilege of enjoying it. What attracted them the most though, Camille knew, was the competition between the hedonistic noblewomen about who would receive the blessing. Part of the appeal was discussing within earshot how exactly they intended to deflower her, given the opportunity. But as long as she did not bloom, she was a green maiden who was fully off limits from patrons — and was obligated to wear the uniform to stave them away.
Camille was humbled every day by her colorful and opulent world. She lived in a luxurious estate filled to the brim with otherworldly beauties. Once Camille were to bloom, the rules lording over her would loosen and she would be able to join them. The flower maidens had bright, floral colored hair and dressed in the most beautiful clothing and jewelry the land had to offer. Patrons clamored to compete each other for the maidens' favor, showering them in expensive gifts in the hope they would be invited in to satisfy their monthly bloom. Camille should have obtained this lifestyle long ago — she should have felt wronged and angry for being denied it — but there was no explanation for her late bloom, and no way to predict when it would come. It didn't matter how hard she searched for an answer, she would never find it. Camille simply put her head down and endured, admiring the latest fashions paraded around the manor with more awe and appreciation than the people buying or wearing them.
Camille pulled on her stockings, gloves, and shoes before leaving for her lessons. She entered the meeting for morning instruction, where she found her familiar classmates scattered around the room in giggling bunches. Like a matching set of dolls, each girl wore an identical green-sashed muslin gown, topped with a head of plain natural hair. Starting from sixteen until bloom, a flower maiden trained in a variety of different skills needed to entertain in high society. While her classmates worked as a team to endure training, Camille had long since exhausted the lessons — unable to graduate without blooming first. She had studied hard from the beginning and took a lot of pride in her skills. She was among the best in every area of etiquette and servitude, and was very skilled at the piano. Aside from just her late bloom, Camille was well known by noblewomen for her reputation as a promising young flower maiden.
The other green maidens had never taken an interest in her, but why would she expect them to? All of the same-aged peers she spent her developmental years with had graduated to become proper flower maidens. A new generation of tightly bonded young maidens had replaced them, naturally excluding Camille. Among them, she stuck out as awkward and too old to be in training. Camille was naturally a girl of few words, and was fairly content keeping politely to herself. She stepped into the room without expecting an upward glance, taking her seat obediently as she did every day.
After morning instruction was over, the green maidens were dismissed and flooded out into the large atrium that connected most of the manor's main hallways. It was a busy area with frequent foot traffic, along with gathering places for groups to socialize. Groups of chatting flower maidens and noblewomen filled the grand atrium's furniture here and there. On her way out, two familiar older women wandered up to Camille. She only knew them as a wealthy couple that was close with the mistress. Both of them plump and fancy and made up perfectly with their similarly wrinkled faces. The shorter of the pair, Lady Wendy, cupped Camille's face in her hand. "Oh, my dear, I haven't been to visit in so long, I was beginning to worry you would bloom in my absence." She turned to the lady next to her and displayed Camille's face to her. "Isn't it such a tease to have her here, Lady Sarah? Such a beautiful girl has been kept off limits for a dreadfully long time. An overdue maiden is especially sweet when she finally comes to bloom, you know." The lady leaned forward to inhale deeply from the corner of Camille's neck.
"She's beautiful," came Lady Sarah stupidly.
"She's ripe, Lady Sarah," Lady Wendy lowered her voice. "You can tell by her appearance. Her skin is glowing, her body is heavy with anticipation." She purred, lifting her fair chin with her finger despite looking up at her. "Your coming of age ceremony will definitely be a treat worth waiting all this time for. I'm sure it's bound to come any day now." The two ladies snickered and drank in her figure greedily.
Camille's heart sank as she caught a few flower maidens sitting nearby had been watching the encounter. She was used to being approached and toyed with by noblewomen — there was never any real risk of danger, the mistress made sure of that — but she knew what impression it would leave on the other maidens. Getting the attention of a noblewoman was difficult among the sea of beautiful competition, and required flirting and appealing. It was an economy of popularity, and most flower maidens thought the quiet, plain girl was undeserving. Her late bloom was tantalizing and exotic to the noblewomen, but in the eyes of the maidens, it was off putting to see a girl her age in a green maiden's uniform. Her plain brown hair that used to be a symbol of healthy youth and potential, now portrayed her as flowerless; a barren seed. She felt her cheeks burn.
As the ladies walked away snickering, Camille watched the flower maidens in her peripheral all turn sharply in one direction. She tried to follow their gaze but a large pillar in the center of the room blocked her line of sight. The maidens' eyes darted back and forth from the subject to each other unsurely. One girl scoffed, trying to bring the other two to jeer along with her, but was met with her friends intimidated into their best behavior.
