The gardening shears close with a SNIP, severing the top of the flower.

The young man walks away with a sour sneer on his face. He has black hair that flops down over his face, and a chinstrap beard that fades into his temples. One of his eyebrows is scarred through. He muses to himself, trailing dead leaves as he saunters away.

??? (thinking): And neither will she. Fat little hen sitting on a throne that isn't hers. Was barely her daughter's, either. Can't wait to see you put them in their places.

He bends down to continue snipping, but a familiar pair of patterned sleeves appears behind him.

??? (thinking): Preening peacocks, the whole lot of them.

He stands, revealing Halea standing behind him, smiling.

Halea: You don't say.

His face drops in panic.