"What is this action? Please get up. You're confusing the others."
"..."
Clarence barely registered the protest before him. His senses still reeled from the overwhelming reverence that had driven him to his knees moments ago.
The gentle, melodic voice had broken through his haze, and yet, even now, he did not feel regret for his actions. Embarrassment? No. Shame? Not in the slightest. Even as the gathered onlookers whispered in hushed confusion, Clarence felt only certainty.
Smiling, he pushed aside the remnants of his emotions and turned to Daisy, the little girl who had unknowingly become the bridge between him and the figure in black robes. He had intended to scold her for bringing strangers to his humble florist, but the reprimand died before it could even take shape. Instead, he found himself filled with gratitude.
Reaching out, he ruffled Daisy's hair before handing her a small flower pot containing a red daisy, still in the process of blooming.
