As Lord Rhaegal made his way to his quarters. The servant he met along the way, bowed in respect as he walked past them on the passageway.
Reaching his quarters, he pushed the door knob and the door opened with a soft creek. Rhaegal stepped in and was hit with the fresh scent of flowers mixed with the scent of detergents. He looked around and the living room was sparkling. The floor was polished to perfection. The couch was dusted and looked new and the shelves were glistening under the lamp light. Rhaegal's eyes fell on the vase of brightly colored tulips on the table and his entire being stiffened.
He kept staring at the tulips with a frown on his face, contemplating whether to throw it out or leave it be. He didn't hate flowers but he never thought they suited him. Besides, flowers were meant for women, they were soft and delicate and he was nothing like that.
