The rose has long belonged to two worlds.

Rooted in the earth, yet always reaching toward something beyond it.

Since ancient Egypt roses appeared in funerary wreaths and offerings. They were scattered upon Roman tombs in remembrance of ancestors. They became symbols of divine love in Christianity. Dante even imagined heaven itself as a Celestial Rose, its petals formed by the souls of the blessed.

But what is it that so naturally connects the rose to the idea of the afterlife?

Its spiralling form? Its enveloping petals? Its fragrance? It is difficult to say what makes this ancient flower so powerful and archetypal.

I had just been reading about the legend of the Valkyries when the idea for Roses & Souls first emerged.

Although the Valkyries have nothing to do with flowers, a curious parallel came to mind.

Like blooms cut and scattered across a battlefield, fallen Viking warriors were chosen by these fierce female figures and carried to Valhalla, the reward for their courage and deeds. According to Norse tradition, the Northern Lights were sometimes seen as signs of the Valkyries descending from the heavens to retrieve the souls of the slain.

And there it was.

I imagined a silvery feminine armour, blurred reflections of coloured light, and roses, rosebuds, and petals infused with shadows, memories, and souls.

The idea from a purely aesthetic point of view came also from the work of art “Le Chevalier aux Fleurs”.

For this creation, the Artist of the Roses could finally embrace a wholly handmade process. Her mastery of knitting, painting, and hand embroidery offered the perfect opportunity to bring all three disciplines together.

First came the knitted armour top: lean, feminine, and essential. A high collar, a clean-cut front panel, and only two thin chains crossing at the back.

Then came the painting.

Blue, green, and pink-red hues were carefully layered according to a precise composition, already anticipating the placement of the embroidered flowers.

Finally came the embroidery.

Metallic threads and luminous colours brought the piece to life. Delicate stitches suggest cut flowers lingering between presence and absence, carrying traces of their souls.

Looking back at the finished creation, I can still see the Northern Lights. I can see the silvery armour. I can see the souls of warriors.

It feels like a dream — the fragment of a story that can never be fully captured, yet still carries echoes of ancient faiths, forgotten memories, and legends that refuse to disappear.

Find out more about our Roses & Souls Top No. 1 on @tellingroses and tellingroses.com