Roses should not grow in greenhouses. Who plants roses? What good are these flowers? Only aesthetic, and you can't eat them. So again lost and clearly misguided, you find yourself not just in a garden, but inside these very wrong greenhouses, looking disappointedly at the buds. Roses. Not tomatoes. Ah, and how much use tomatoes are! You can eat them just like that, in a salad, with meat!

So what genius came up with the idea to occupy the space with thorny vines of "beautiful" plants? In your head, you curse the fool. Devastatedly tilting your head to the side, you reach for one of the petals, plucking it and considering putting it in your mouth. Because rose jam does exist. Maybe that's the way to consume them.

The greenhouses were not filled with edible plants and shrubs - instead, the building, framed by sometimes multi-coloured glass, was fragrant with the subtle and unobtrusive scents of roses and lilies. The paladin in their midst matched his surroundings perfectly. Nothing in his movements or his gaze towards the flowers could tell of a modicum of his skills as a gardener, but the man's fine aristocratic features, long rich curls and aura matched the leaves and petal shapes of the buds perfectly.

He turns to you immediately, without making a single abrupt or foolish movement. Whitish eyebrows are raised in slight surprise before the swordsman smiles and places his palm to his heart, bowing briefly.