Blood Roses

There was a time when the roses had been white, snowy petals framed by emerald leaves. But that was a long time ago. Before the war, before they had been dyed with Valerie's blood, with the blood of England herself. And now his was to join them, scarlet stains blossoming on his chest like spring's first blooms. The life's blood of a lifeless man giving birth to an idea, hope to a nation.

And Evey could only watch and weep and wait for the day when her own blood would stain the roses.