Oleander? Is that you?

I have been here all along, lovely. We have been flying together, you and I.

These are your wings, then, which bear me aloft?

Of course. Do you think I would entrust you to anyone else? Tell me: What do you think of your beloved Crabgrass now? Surely you could not marry a man so cruel and heartless, so lacking in feeling as he is? Why, he did nothing but watch as that evil bird feasted on the poor—

Please, do not say it.

But he did nothing. You admit that.

He must—he must have had his reasons.

He is shockingly ignorant, you know. He only knows what his leafy little friends tell him. And it is so easy to mistake one plant for another. Monkshood root for horseradish. Hemlock for carrots. Tragic errors, but they happen. Frankly, I am surprised he has lasted this long. If you married him, you would doubtless be a widow within a fortnight.

Are you threatening to trick him into eating poison if I marry him?

I merely state a hypothetical probability. Although … if I could be absolutely certain that this absurd engagement were called off, I would be rather more inclined to give Mr. Lamb Killer the cure for your condition. The only thing worse for Weed than you dying would be if you survived, only to reject him. His suffering would be exquisite!

Why do you wish him to suffer?

Call it professional interest. You see, Jessamine, love is a kind of poison; one of my favorite kinds, in fact. It infects the blood; it takes over the mind; it seizes dominion over the body. It amuses me to think of him pining for you. Aching for what he cannot have. The loneliness in his soul festering like a wound. There is nothing I could do to him that is worse than what you have already done, my lovely. And I assure you, in his case there will be no cure.

And what of my suffering? My loneliness?

Immaterial. You will have me.

But I do not want you!

My sweet, sheltered flower, how could you possibly know what you want? If you stay with me, I will keep you wrapped in the pleasantest dreams. You will remember nothing that pains you. You will exist in a state of perpetual delight. I will adore you, Jessamine. I will shield you. I will intoxicate you.

And if I resist, what then? Will you punish me?

You will not be able to resist. That is the beauty of it.

Yes, I will—

Shhhh. Soon you will know what I mean. Come, it is time to fly. They are trying to take you back from me now, and they will—but only for a brief, little while—