Chapter 11 Genevieve
Genevieve
Leland places a hand on the crook of my arm as we walk toward the gardens in Covington Park. Low grey clouds are replacing the clear blue sky from earlier, and I wonder if we’re about to be caught in one of Naseria’s spring rains.
“I want to apologize,” Leland says, leaning close to my ear as we walk deeper into the gardens. Fresh blooms of peonies hang heavy on their stems, while pretty lilacs perfume the air with their sweet scent.
“For what?” I ask.
“I shouldn’t have been so forward in asking about your gift. Both of us are strong-willed, and we have powerful gifts. We’ll learn to navigate how to manage that together in our marriage.”
I haven’t had someone speak so frankly about my curse. Typically, when a man is curious to feel its effects, it’s all pawing and quick gropes. Perhaps it will be the same with him, despite what he says, once he feels my gift fill his senses.
“Thank you. It’s good of you to say you’re committed to working with me.
My gift has always felt more like a burden—especially when I was younger and didn’t understand its potency.
” The words come out tight. I dislike speaking about my gift with anyone, but this conversation matters.
If we’re to turn this arrangement into a real marriage, we have to work past our challenges—and my gift will likely be the first.
Leland lets out a small huff, nodding. “My sister has lived for over a decade in fear of her own gift, and I’ve only seen it cause her more harm than we already suffered.”
We take a seat on a park bench. This conversation feels far too heavy for a walk in the park, but time is limited. Best to face these things head-on.
“We’ve all heard rumors of what happened to your parents when Queen Kalise’s gift manifested. Is it true?”
Leland lowers his head for a moment before looking into my eyes.
“If you’re wondering whether my sister killed our parents—yes, she did.
It was never her intention. She was angry with my father for a secret he’d kept from all of us, and her gift manifested in that anger.
She’s always been distant and serious, but after she froze them, she all but shut herself off from others.
The only companions she allows are her foxes.
She hasn’t had a lady’s maid since the incident.
She even cuts her own hair, unwilling to let anyone touch her. ”
“What of heirs?” I ask, recalling Lord Fenweir’s claim that Queen Kalise would take my child for her own.
He shrugs, looking at me with a shyness I haven’t seen in him before. “I’m her only heir. I don’t think Kalise will ever take a husband, but if she did, it would be in name only. So the future of my kingdom—and yours—rests in our offspring.”
“No pressure, of course,” I say, trying to lighten the conversation. I’ve always carried the burden of producing Naseria’s next ruler, but knowing I’m also responsible for another kingdom’s future is something I don’t want to dwell on.
“Heirs know nothing of pressure, do we?”
“Especially not heirs of terrifying queens,” I quip—and immediately wonder if I’ve overstepped propriety. Leland bursts into laughter, startling a gentleman walking by.
“Let’s vow not to let our future heirs carry the same burdens we have,” he proposes, extending his gloved hand.
I take it, certain this is a vow I want my children to know I’ve made. “To no longer burdening the heirs.” We shake, and a sort of kinship blossoms between us.
We both chuckle before falling into companionable silence. I take Leland’s hand and lead him toward a pond dotted with water lilies, wisteria climbing over an arch near the bank. He squeezes my hand before letting go, turning toward me as he dips his face closer to mine.
Feel something. Anything.
Butterflies.
Fluttering.
Excitement.
But all I feel is the same comfortable companionship I’ve known since our first meeting—and I’m beginning to wonder if that’s simply an effect of his gift.
“Genny, I don’t want to be too forward, but I’d like to give you something.”
I look up at his cool blue eyes, at the gentle smile and the way his hair falls across his forehead. He takes my left hand in his, and I’m at a loss for words as he removes my glove and slides a ring onto my finger. It’s white gold, set with a clear diamond framed by light-blue stones.
“I wanted to make this official. Will you marry me?” he asks, and I can hear the hesitation in his tone. Does he hesitate because he doesn’t want this—or because he doesn’t know if I’ll say yes?
“Yes, Leland. I’m honored to marry you,” I say, smiling up at him, but as the words leave my mouth, I see Kieran in my mind. His haunting emerald eyes, the loss and longing I’ve harbored in my heart for so long.
He nods, leaning closer, as though he feels obligated to seal this moment with a kiss. A sickening twist curls through my stomach. I don’t want to reject his affection, but I cannot kiss him—not when the feeling of my gift makes me ill, not when my mind is on another man entirely.
I step back, ever so slightly, and Leland leans his head back, looking at the darkening sky. “Looks like rain. Should we make our way back to the carriage?”
“It’s probably for the best.” I take my glove from his outstretched hand, slipping it on over the large ring.
“Please let me know if you’d prefer a different ring. That one was my mother’s, and she was very fond of it. Even if she wasn’t always fond of my father.”
“It’s perfect, really,” I reply.
“I hope so. Kalise suggested it was bad luck to give you a ring from an unhappy marriage, but my mother was a good woman. She was kind to everyone, and I’d like to see a part of her with my wife each day.”
I take his hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m honored to have a piece of her with me.”
I lead him along a shortcut, a wooded path seldom visited but more direct to the carriage from where we stand.
Ferns skirt the edges of the trail beneath towering trees.
As we walk, an unfamiliar scent drifts through the air—a rancid, rotten smell that stings my eyes.
I lift my handkerchief to cover my mouth and nose.
“What is that?” Leland asks, voice muffled behind his own handkerchief. Then he grows still. “I’ve smelled that once before—along the border near the Beral Sea. It came from rot spreading in an old mine. Mr. Blackwell showed it to me. Corrupted helachite can become a spreading rot.”
I nod, scanning the forest, and see the source immediately—a dark, brownish-grey gash in the earth, pulsing and steaming. The stench makes me want to flee, yet I can’t look away.
“There it is,” I breathe. “But how can the rot be spreading through the center of Crawford?”
Leland keeps his face covered as he takes my hand and pulls me back from the foul pit. “It doesn’t make sense. According to Mr. Blackwell, the rot is linked to over-mining and prolonged exposure to helachite.”
“The nearest helachite mine is a day from here. We need to return to Fairbright Palace at once. I’ll have to send another footman ahead to let Astoria know a new carriage is on its way for her.”