Chapter 24
Chapter 24
Time seemed to move differently in Monteverde, the days blending into each other, the months passing in a blur. I had fallen into a comfortable routine with my new life. I spent most of my days in the greenhouse that Meroveo had built for me as a wedding gift.
" For your research, little Dove." It was his idea of a birdcage.
It was designed after the one we visited in Valencia. Secluded away, surrounded by towering palms, trees, and mazes of flowers, the greenhouse stood like a tropical chateau framed by wrought-iron beams. The unique glass windows allowed me to see out without anyone being able to look in, casting the space in a soft, warm light.
It became my sanctuary, my hidden world, where I lost myself for hours in the sprawling space, growing herbs and experimenting with different formulas and ingredients with the books I found in Meroveo's library.
My workspace contained botany books, old journals, and various sketching materials, and the wooden bookshelves held the tinctures, healing salves, and medicinal infusions of flowers, rum, and roots. The untamed beauty of the coral blooms twisted above with the cerasse vines hanging from the beams amongst the bundles of drying herbs. Rows of sage, vervain, Spanish thyme, and eucalyptus perfumed the air as clusters of my favorite hibiscus grew in healthy clusters.
I made a small altar dedicated to Our Lady, replacing the fresh flowers from the garden daily, keeping the tiny flame below her statue alive. It brought me solace and comfort.
The homesickness became bearable, dulling as time passed, but never entirely going away. Mami had sent me some seeds from her garden, but the seedlings refused to sprout in Castilian soil, no matter how much attention I gave them.
But I wasn't alone. Tia Carmen's promise rang true. The zemi became mischievous little companions. Still, up to their harmless pranks, they wreaked innocent havoc in Ines' kitchen. Their favorite new target was Naira, and they terrorized the poor woman.
I made sure to leave small offerings for my troublesome friends, asking them to stop their mischief and soothing their behavior with cinnamon milk and guava jam.
Yani loved to help me in the greenhouse, becoming my little apprentice and helping me forage, collecting wild herbs and weeds from around the gardens. She reminded me of myself when my mother began to teach me, with wide eyes filled with endless questions.
Yani chose not to speak. Ines assured me that there was nothing physically wrong with her. She had been seen by some of the best doctors, and they all agreed that her condition was psychological.
Ines didn't have to tell me something terrible happened to her. Yani was weary of strangers, even more so around men.
I learned that she was the niece of Cratylus, the head of Meroveo's private security. I often saw him around with a permanent scowl on his disfigured face. The only men she seemed comfortable around were Cratylus and Meroveo. I asked Meroveo about it once, and he told me that Monteverde was the safest place for her. Cryptic, as always, he shared nothing more than he cared to.
Yani broke me out of my thoughts with a slight tug on my arm.
I was caught up in experimenting with the new steam distillery, filling the boiler with water, and placing the aromatic lemongrass in the chamber above. I was having a difficult time getting the correct amount of water. The last three batches of the oils were too volatile to use.
Yani grinned, held up a watering can, and pointed to the pot holding the young flowering mint plant. She had been tending it for weeks. It was the first seed she had planted.Mint, mentha, was known to have powerful healing properties for the throat and voice, both physically and spiritually.
She helped me make the simple mint and rose syrup I concocted for her, adding rose petals for the heart. She drank it once a day, and I hoped it would soothe the trauma of the silence.
"It's lovely, Yani. You're doing a good job. The stems are strong, see," I pointed out, walking over to check the temperature of the damp, dark soil and encouraging her to do the same.Mint could be fickle if the roots didn't have enough space to grow. But Yani had been so careful and caring with the young plant. Mami taught me that when you grow something, there must always be an intention behind it. I was planning to use its leaves in the herbal syrup. Since she raised it, the healing would be more potent, fostering a personal connection.
"Dove," Meroveo's deep voice came from behind, startling us.
Yani smiled brightly up at him. She was one of the few people who had never looked at him with that paralyzing fear he had invoked in so many.
Yani proudly pointed to her plant.
"Good job." he patted her on the head before turning his attention to me.
He had been away for the last few days, occupied with work. I had become accustomed to him being away much of the time.
I was covered in dirt and barefoot, while he looked immaculate as always. However, his eyes were more tired lately.
"Yani, would you take these to Ines before we both get in trouble?" I handed her a basket of cilantro and fresh ginger. Yani nodded, but not before kissing the leaf of her plant, leaving us alone.
"You've been good for her," Meroveo noted.
"She's been good for me," I responded truthfully, watching her happily swing the basket and head towards the house.
"Has anyone ever told you that you move like a shadow?" I complained, returning my attention to the distillery and pretending to be busy cleaning up.
"A skill that has saved my life once or twice," he joked, looking at me and lighting a cigarillo. The butterflies in my stomach erupted like always, and I quickly looked away.
"You've been hard at work. Everything seems to have grown overnight. You have a gift, brujita." He sounded impressed, walking amongst the hanging leaves and blooming elephant ears, flipping through some of the pages of my scattered books, and tracing over the sketches in my journals.
"Flowers and plants are sensitive to touch and sound. They can sense your intentions and feel your emotions. You have to learn their language, pay attention to the way they speak, and they'll share their secrets." I smiled. "Some even like it when you sing." I laughed a little, remembering the guava tree in Mami's garden, whose leaves would always be brighter the next day, making for a stronger tea after listening to her sing.
I forgot I was talking, turning around, mortified at how childish I must have sounded. "Sorry," I quickly apologized, embarrassed. "I can get carried away when it comes to this."
With warm, dark eyes, Meroveo watched me. "Never apologize to anyone for being knowledgeable in something, Dove." he sounded impressed. There was a tone of respect in his voice.
"I was going to study botany," I mentioned, unable to hide my sudden words, which were heavy with resentment and silent implications.
"A noble pursuit," he answered back, his lips curving. He found my quiet anger amusing. "Have your ambitions changed?" he asked curiously, stopping to question me, a secret gleaming in his eyes.
"Do you think I'm the kind of man who would deny my wife an education?" he asked.
"Maybe not an education, no, but her freedom, maybe," my words hung in the air.
"That's a shame. I thought you would have enjoyed the upcoming semester. I hear the university has an impressive program," he said quietly, watching me.
My heart secretly leaped at his words, hope soaring in my chest.
"Although I have a small request from you." That unnatural glow in his eyes made me instantly uneasy.
Things with Meroveo and I had reached a strange and complacent place. Our marriage moved into new territory, and I wasn't sure how to navigate it. Meroveo let me set the pace, but it was always under his terms.
It shamed me to admit that I had grown into enjoying his company, looking forward to our private moments in his study or the greenhouse. When he wasn't working, he made it a point to walk with me every day just before the sunset. Our conversations became comfortable and easy. Sometimes, I slipped in to read a book when he was busy working over the phone.
I joined him in the stable, watching him work with Alaster. It offered him peace, and I saw another side of him.
I was sick with myself, beginning to secretly like the way he kissed me night after night, ripping through the barriers I desperately tried to keep up. He was patient. It was a careful dance between us, my submission against his dominance. Meroveo was dangerously beguiling in a way that almost made me forget that I was forced to be here.
Outside of the bedroom, he was attentive, making sure I wanted for nothing. I enjoyed our conversations in his study, where I asked him endless questions about the books on his shelf. He indulged my curiosity, opening my world to the timeless words of poets and philosophers from the past.
I thought about our discussions, wanting to give him my opinion, hear his thoughts, and learn more about him.
I learned to avoid asking him about his business, which was the one topic he didn't discuss. He didn't deny me information but was vague with his answers.
He liked to say I should never concern myself with the ugliness of that world. The hardened glint in his eyes silently warned me not to cross the invisible line.
"Have you tasted the seeds of the La garante ?" he asked, pulling a knife from his pocket as he cut into the flesh of the red fruit. They were in season and growing by the bunch in flourishing clusters.
"No," I answered, watching him expertly peel away the outer layers, revealing the dark, plump seeds that glimmered like jewels.
"Open your mouth," he commanded calmly, his voice lowering as my cheeks warmed. His thumb swiped slowly on my bottom lip, silently demanding entrance. He fed me the seeds, the sweet taste bursting on my tongue. The fruity, rich flavor was delicious, unlike anything I've tasted.
The fruit was viewed with fear by the people. It had been once called "la fruta del diablo - The fruit of the devil, mainly because of its aphrodisiac properties. Its mythological origin rumored that the seeds were brought here by a man who had returned from the underworld.
"It's good," I whispered, feeling the familiar flutter of sensations in my body that only his tainted touch could bring. He kissed me, tasting the red nectar from my lips, taking something from me, feeling like I had just given away my soul.