Chapter 33
IZADELLA
I’m tossed into a carriage shortly after being forced to agree to a marriage to Grayden.
He faces me while two guards sit on either side of me.
I suspect it’s only to make me uncomfortable, or perhaps he’s so afraid of my power he won’t ride alone with me.
It's not long before the carriage is hot with the press of bodies.
The guards are both massive in size, forcing me to hunch my shoulders to squeeze between them, a dull ache already spreading up from my back to my neck.
The pressing wound in my soul opens a little wider as I remember how Leon’s hands felt rubbing my back during my bleeding.
How warm and strong they were as they traced the outline of my spine and down my hips.
Hands of a healer, reverent and confident.
I can almost feel the phantom touch of his rough palms caressing me.
The touch of a lover, not a liar.
I refuse to cry in the carriage, but the weight of Leon’s betrayal slices deep into my soul.
My eyes water, and Grayden’s cruel gaze watches me, smiling but saying nothing. He’s simply basking in my sorrow. I expect nothing less from him and I find I can’t possibly hate him more than I already do.
I stare back at my future husband. If he’s waiting for me to cry or beg or even ask where we are going, he will be waiting a very long time.
I imagine taking down the giant gold-framed royal portraits in the throne room, taking a hot poker from the fireplace and slicing the canvas, carving black streaks down his blank expression.
After I destroyed the painting, I would break down the frame.
Solid gold would be too heavy to hang so I would guess it's a wood frame behind it.
Perfect firewood for the forge. I would watch the wood burn and then take all the metal left behind and melt it down in the forge.
I see myself with my powers again, taking the gold, molding it into a sword.
I would take that sword and run Grayden through with it.
The rubies I’d put on the hilt would be just as red as his blood.
It’s a nice daydream.
Grayden leans forward in his seat, plenty of room on his side, not breaking eye contact. My face must give away my thoughts, the desire for vengeance seeping out of every pore.
“Oh, I will enjoy wiping that look off your face.” The smile he wears is cruel, and I return the look.
“And I will enjoy watching life leave your eyes when this is over, Your Majesty.” I spit the last words out, but it only widens his smile.
Whatever he is about to say dies as the carriage comes to a halt.
One of the riders next to us dismounts and opens the door.
Grayden steps out first, barely stepping on the ground before a guard shoves me out the door.
I miss the steps, tumble down, and collapse into the dirt.
As I try to collect myself, a rough hand grabs me by my wrist, the bones grinding in his grip as Grayden launches me up and pushes me to walk.
The dungeon and carriage had both been dark, so it takes me a moment to adjust to the sun.
The little gasp that escapes my lips does not do justice to the feeling of dread at the sight before me.
Dirt covers my feet as I stand in an empty field filled with hundreds of long dirt rows.
As far as I can see, it’s desolate earth. The wind picks up, swirling the dirt in the air for a moment, making me cough. A few trees are scattered around but they are dead, too, their tips blackened with decay.
“This is the fae’s fault,” Grayden chides. “This was once a fruitful valley, but your wicked magic has stolen what was mine.” He glares at me.
I don’t bother to correct him that so many are dying because his ancestor killed the fae queen.
That it was his own family’s fault that the crown demands magic and when it can no longer have it, it will take life in its place.
First from the soil, then the animals, and finally the life force of mortals.
“You are going to grow me something.” It is not a question. Maybe some part of him does care that his people are starving.
“Once again, I can only say I will try to give you what you desire.” I’m desperate for the crown to care about anyone else’s safety beyond my own, to know the horrifying consequences of my failure and do something to prevent it.
“I would desire nothing more than to take a sword to your neck, but I will not make my ancestors’ mistakes. It’s useless on my head. I do not possess the magic it needs, so that means you will do as I say.” He waits expectantly.
I can only nod at him.
“This field is empty. Let’s change that, shall we?” he drawls.
The people of Adreania deserve to eat. This barren field has so much potential.
It could grow potatoes nicely, although with my thoughts constantly returning to Leon, I will probably only be able to grow an endless sea of strawberries.
I can try to do potatoes in one field and different greens in the others, but my powers will probably give out.
It’s unpredictable, and if I pass out, Grayden will probably just leave me here.
I should focus on smaller things, maybe those petite red potatoes Tavien likes roasted with rosemary and butter.
“You have to understand; I do not have control over the magic. I swear. I will try. I would give anything for the crown to obey, but that’s not how its magic works. Everett must have told you that. He was lying to you if he said the crown is something to command. It does not grant wishes.”
“Try or the orphan keeper dies.”
I fall to my knees in the soil. My fists are clenched at my side, focusing myself to stay rooted in the dirt and not launch myself at him. Through gritted teeth I ask, “What vegetable would you like me to grow first? Potatoes are the most filling, but perhaps I can—” He cuts me off.
“You will not be growing food. You will be growing Vedesdron.”
Dust fills my mouth as I balk at him.
Insidious bastard.
“Your people are starving! Sick and dying, and your first act with magic is to grow poison over food?” Staring at him, my fist start to shake, fingernails sinking into my palms.
He arches an eyebrow at me. “You refuse me?”
I lower my head. “My apologies, I did not mean to question you. I'm just doubtful I can grow that.”
“Try.”
I close my eyes. I try to think of the poison. I imagine the balcony garden where I stood with Leon the night all of this started. Vibrant pink flowers next to a small patch of red buds with dark leaves. Vedesdron. Planted next to geranium Leon grew. What had he said about it?
I planted them almost two years ago. Geranium. It reminded me of you. One night a month never seemed like enough.
I shove thoughts of Leon away; it will only bring those fucking strawberries.
Vedesdron, Vedesdron, Vedesdron.
The red veins that snake through the pitch-black leaves. The horrid taste of it as Everett shoves it down my throat before the numbness takes hold and blackness follows.
Will Leon know I grew it when it’s used against his Kalvorn soldiers? Will he hate me for helping Grayden murder them?
Not nearly as much as I hate myself right now.
I dig my fingers into the ground, dirt clumping under my nails.
The crown’s magic rolls through me, pouring out into the soil. Not the angry, protective power like when it thought Leon was attacking me at the spring. Not the sensation of love and devotion that blooms the strawberry plants with thoughts of him.
This is something new, something extraordinary.
Guards gasps all around me, followed by soft, excited murmurs.
Life blossoms beneath me. More and more magic leaves me and I sway, trying not to fall face-first into the ground, my body overwhelmed by the sudden loss of it.
Never has so much power been drained from me at once.
I try so hard to focus on the poison, but even before I open my eyes again, I know I have not grown it.
Tears pour out with it, my heart sinking.
Ellova’s grave, Cyanna, I’m so sorry.
Every row for miles is filled with ruby reds, rich purples, and vibrant greens.
Through the black spots in my vision, I can make out the thick asparagus sticking up, ready for harvest, next to overgrown ferns with bright red berries.
Wide flat leaves with deep red stalks of rhubarb.
Potato leaves with rows of purple flowers turning into green potato berries near it.
Peppers and fat purple eggplants. Leafy tops of tomato plants blow gently in the wind.
Hanging pods of wild butterbeans. Rows of white, brown, and cream-colored mushrooms. Further down are vast lemon, pomegranate, and apple orchards and, of course, rows and rows of strawberries.
It’s beautiful. But not what he wanted. He snaps his fingers at someone, and one of his men, with eyes just as cruel as his rulers’, slams the iron collar back around my neck.
“Pity.” Grayden stands over me, blocking the sun as he slaps me across the face. I collapse; the blow slams my face into the dirt. I cough, spitting up blood.
From this angle, I can see what grows close to the soil. The magic did listen to me for once.
I could laugh. “I did what you asked. All of these plants have at least some part that is poisonous.
Look at all these nightshades! The tomato leaves, roots and stems; rhubarb leaves; those red and green berries.
Don't be fooled. Some of those mushrooms are safe, but that row right there—” I point behind him. “—is death cap mushrooms.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You are a liar.”
“Summon your farmers and alchemists. They will tell you. You think your soldiers will go to war for you while they starve, while their children starve? Feed your people while you have the chance, husband.”
He slides his tongue over his teeth in an irritated motion before turning to the guards on horseback. “Well, don’t just stand here. Fetch some fucking farmers.”
The riders nod and take off in the directions of the small farms in the surrounding areas.
Grayden inspects one of the plants. “Put her in the carriage while we wait.”
Drained from the day, I don’t struggle when the two guards who rode next to me drag me back and put me inside. I lie back, trying to find a comfortable position.
One of the guards pauses before closing the door. “Thank you,” he whispers. “My daughters have never had fruit before.”
I nod once. “Where is Cyanna?”
He shakes his head, shrugging, and closes the door behind him.
I curl up on the cushioned bench inside the carriage and nearly cry with how nice it feels after two nights on a stone floor. All I can hope for now is that the farmers will confirm what I told Grayden and that it will be enough to appease him. Enough to keep Cyanna safe.
For now.