the only enemy you can't live without

she's the kinda song you could play over and over

"Look me in my face and tell me you think Jack seems like the kind of guy to like poetry." Sure, Flora could imagine a situation where Jack would like it, presumably if the words were centred around him and the queen was taking great pleasure in writing them, but as her ability to rhyme was childlike at best and she'd much rather do other things with her hands than pen poetic words and phrases to Jack, the answer was no. "Unfortunately lately it's been more like "hey haven't heard from you in a while, sure hope you haven't been kidnapped" " Flora huffs with a roll of her eyes.

Wanting to keep her expression solemn, the corners of her mouth nevertheless quirk into a crooked line as she imagines Isla scolding a violet-coloured Everest and sending him to his room to think about what he'd done. "Okay, but if he did try and attack Isla, however unsuccessfully, don't you think that would ruin his life too? Or...what if Dahlia just decides she wants him to go and kill himself, or burn down Isla's clinic so she can't heal anyone anymore?" Reaching for her drink, the next sip is the one which ultimately will push the queen fully over the line of inebriation, explaining the following scribbles Jack will receive on their parchment.

"And like...I dunno, whatever has happened to him, can't Frey or someone just...do it for him?"