Chapter 10
Elodie
I’m halfway through pulling on my overalls when Thomas appears in the doorway.
“You won’t be needing those today, miss.”
I give him a confused look before asking, “Why not?”
“The High Warden has asked that I take you straight to the stables this morning instead.”
I freeze.
“What? No… I need to get back to the glasshouse. I need to do some more research.”
“I’m sorry, miss, but it’s on his orders.”
“Well, what’s in the stables?” I ask.
“Horses, Miss,” he answers flatly.
“Okay, I meant why does he want me there?”
“There’s a trip to the village for supplies.”
Supplies is vague enough to mean anything and nothing, but I don’t push. I change direction, pulling down my overalls and staring down at the plain tunic I got from Kael’s sister. Cycling through the same three clothes has been a stark reminder of where I am.
A place with none of my belongings.
The air is cooler than I expect as we step outside, the castle already awake with the quiet hum of people carrying on with their duties. Tucked into the curve of the outer wall, the stables are situated lower than the rest of the keep. The smell hits me first: hay, leather, damp earth.
Rowan is already there, standing with his back to us, one arm resting on the black horse in front of him. He grabs something from his pocket and places it in front of the horse before rubbing its nose with a soft pat. He isn’t wearing his armour today.
Instead, he’s dressed in dark, fitted trousers with a long black hooded cloak.
The hood hangs low, shadowing his face. When he turns, it reveals only a few strands of dark hair and his jaw.
It suits him far too well, and I stop pretending not to be staring at him.
Rowan is attractive, and he knows it, in a way that’s sharp and dangerous.
He turns to find me staring, his eyes darken as he swallows, causing his jaw to tighten.
I don’t even bother looking away this time, letting the moment settle low in my chest, all flutters and foolish courage.
“Ah,” Kael says, clapping his hands together. “Perfect timing.” We break eye contact immediately, turning away, my pulse still tripping over itself.
“Ready to go?” Kael asks Rowan, giving him a wink and a slap on the back before heading to mount his horse. I look around the stables, assessing which horse I will probably ride, but the stables are empty. Except for the black horse towering above Rowan.
“Um, which horse am I supposed to be on?” I ask Rowan.
“There was a late call for patrol at the border. Most of the horses were taken this morning,” he says.
“You’ll be riding with me,” he says and I give him an unsure nod of my head, feeling my stomach tighten.
“Right,” I mumble. Thomas hesitates, glancing between us before stepping back.
“I’ll see you on your return, miss,” he says. I offer him a lazy smile, my eyes still wide and processing the situation. And then it’s just me and Rowan and the horse.
“I uh… I’ve never,” I ramble. Rowan gives me a smirk that causes heat to rush to my cheeks.
“I've never ridden a horse before,” I admit, embarrassed. He ignores my comment and swings up first with practiced ease, settling into the saddle. He reaches down, offering me his hand.
“For balance,” he says
I hesitate.
It’s not the fear of riding a horse. That is something I have always wanted to do, actually.
It’s more for the sudden awareness of how close I am going to be to Rowan.
I take his hand, his grip firm as he lifts me easily.
He places his hands on my hips, guiding me into the saddle until I’m seated firmly in front of him.
The moment leaves no room for awkwardness, no space to overthink.
The horse jolts slightly, lifting its front leg, and there is suddenly nowhere for me to put my weight but against him.
I stiffen on instinct, pulling forward. Only for him to wrap his arm around my front and pull me back into him.
“Relax,” he says. “You’ll unbalance the horse.” His voice is a murmur, so close to my ear it causes me to shiver.
The heat of his firm body behind me is unyielding.
His chest rises and falls slowly, controlled.
We set off, Kael in front of us, and I’m acutely aware of everything.
Feeling the rhythm of the horse beneath us.
The way Rowan’s knees frame my legs. How our hips rock in time with the horse’s movement.
I feel hot and flustered and entirely unsure what to do with myself.
I don’t know when I stop thinking about it exactly, only that at some point, my body adjusts and I give in to the pull.
Leaning back into him and letting my body trust him.
It earns me a small sound from Rowan, which I choose to pretend didn’t happen for the sake of getting through the rest of the day.
The village gradually emerges from the distance, a tiny settlement that brings to mind the enchanting scenes of a fairytale. From the saddle, the village doesn’t announce itself.
It simply unfolds.
The road narrows and dips, and the stone gives way to water.
A canal cuts cleanly through the centre of the village, its surface reflecting the sky in soft brown fragments beneath the low-hanging trees above.
Buildings lean in close on either side, as if they have grown accustomed to sharing their pale stone walls with the aged pavement below.
I lean forward in awe of its beauty. There are tables lining the canal’s edge, chairs pulled at uneven angles, lanterns illuminating either side in rows.
It reminds me somewhat of Venice, but older and even more romantic.
Something is missing, though. It takes me a moment to realise what it is, and by the time Rowan brings the horse to a stop and drops lightly to the ground, I’m already looking for it.
“Where are all the people?” I ask.
“Many of them left before the King sealed the gates shut,” he says, tilting his head to look at me atop his horse. “Those who stayed don’t waste daylight hours,” he says simply. “Why would they all just leave?” I ask.
“Hope of our gates ever returning disappeared. It would mean living in a rotting land. Many fled for the sake of their families’ futures.”
“What do the butterflies have to do with it?”
He hesitates, clearly deciding whether he wants to share this information with me.
“The key is the magic in their wings,” he says simply. “No butterflies, no key. No plant, no butterfly.”
I form somewhat of an understanding, not fully, but the information is still useful.
Butterflies are the key.
Without the plants they need, they die off.
It’s simple, really. A life cycle.
I liken it to the Karner blue butterfly species back home.
I learnt about it in a case study. They only lay their larvae on a single species of plant, lupine, I think.
When wild lupine numbers rapidly declined, there was a huge conservation effort to help prevent their extinction.
It always stuck with me. I wasn’t sure why back then, but I suppose it was the devastating tragedy that without each other, neither could survive.
I’m lost in the thought of it before firm hands grip my sides and I’m lifted into the air before being gently placed on the ground.
“I could have gotten myself down, you know,” I mumble at him.
“I know,” is all he says, shrugging at me before catching up to Kael.
I follow behind them both, as always, pacing to keep up.
Turning down an alleyway, I follow them into a shop.
Fabric and mannequins line the storefront.
A woman looks up from behind her counter as we enter, needle still between her fingers.
She casts a glance at Rowan and Kael, nodding her head in a sign of respect before her eyes land on me.
Her brows raise up her forehead as she places her needle and fabric down and walks over to me.
“Come,” she says, already guiding me to the back. “I’ve been expecting you.”
I glance back at Rowan, feeling unsure and extremely out of my comfort zone. He gives a brief nod to me before taking a seat by the cash desk.
Okay then?
The woman whose name I learn is Lysa, looks to be around her mid-fifties.
I get the impression that she doesn’t get many female customers anymore by her obvious excitement to dress me in several long gowns and skirts.
I’m wearing a long, flowy dress, pale cream linen, light enough to move when I breathe and patterned with small blush pink flowers.
The bodice fits well and its structure holds its shape, with a neckline that dips lower than I’m used to.
It frames my cleavage, making me pause at myself in the mirror.
Hesitating, I wiggle uncomfortably in the dress, then straighten, swaying to the side.
The sleeves puff gently at the shoulder before falling into loose ruffles at my arms.
It’s feminine, delicate.
Certainly not something I’d wear back home, especially not since I'm almost always coated in mud. It’s something I’d have shaken my head at and tugged the neckline up, too worried about who might see me.
But here, in a place where no one knows my name, or of the shy girl always lost amongst the gardens.
I decide to hold my shoulders higher and revel in the moment. Lysa returns with an audible gasp,
“Oh my goodness, you’re beautiful!” She beams at me, picking at the seams and toying with my sleeves. I feel myself turn a shade pinker and cross my arms over myself instinctively.
“Oh no, that’s really nice of you to say, but—”
She cuts me off with a soft tutting sound, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head at me.
“Listen,” she says, lowering her voice, “the world will give you enough reasons to make yourself smaller. Do not." She places me in front of the mirror again, standing behind me and meeting my eyes.
“Someone like you, you deserve to be seen, my love.” I smile at her, a genuine smile that makes something ache inside me.
I wonder fleetingly if this is what it would have felt like to have a mother standing behind me.
Whispering words of encouragement and strength.
My throat tightens at the thought, the moment feeling too intimate.
My eyes flick away from hers as I form a tight smile.
“You’ll wear this one out,” she winks at me before I realise I don’t even know how I’m paying for any of this.
I step back into the shop. The soft chatter of the two knights stops as we enter.
Kael looks up first, giving me a devilish grin.
I roll my eyes at him, awaiting the commentary, which will inevitably come.
“That’s unfair,” he says, smiling
“Unfair how?”
“You didn’t warn a man. There should be rules about walking out looking that good,” he winks at me and I laugh softly. I feel the warmth blooming on my cheeks.
“You’re ridiculous."
“And you, plant girl, are beautiful,” he says in earnest this time.
“Thank you,” I respond. Rowan hasn’t said a word, though. He’s standing beside Kael, one hand resting loosely at his side, the other curled into the edge of his cloak. His hood is now down, showing the dark contours of his face. His gaze is unmistakable.
It’s fixed on me.
Not wandering or polite.
Something tightens in my chest at the intensity of it, the way his eyes flick briefly to my neckline before snapping back to my face. His jaw tightens as if he’s holding back something internal.
I shift my weight without meaning to, hyperaware of the way the fabric moves against my skin. Lysa breaks the sudden spike in tension, returning into the room with a pile of trousers and tops and handing them to me.
“For the gardening, I figured you’d need more than some hand me down pants that don’t fit you right,” she says, shaking her head at the knights, and I glance again at Rowan. He had ordered her to get everything ready.
“Oh, and I almost forgot,” she says, turning to the back of the shop once more.
“You told her I’m working in the glasshouse?” I ask Rowan.
“You needed more clothes.” I nod at his response, but this is more than needing some more clothes, and we both know it.
“Here,” Lysa says before showing me the most beautiful set of overalls I’ve ever seen. An olive-green, heavy fabric, reinforced at the elbows and the seams sewed with a dark forest-green thread.
Then I see it: my name.
Embroidered lightly on the front right pocket. Not so big that it draws attention, but enough for it to cause a thud in my chest.
“The High Warden here said you could use another,” she says, smiling at Rowan.
“I love it. Thank you so much,” I say, struggling for words.
“Well, of course,” she responds, taking all the outfits and various garments over to the cash desk as Kael follows, I assume, to make payment. I turn to Rowan immediately, finding him already watching me.
“Rowan, that was so…thank you, really.” I offer with a smile.
“The King requested we give you everything you need to get this plant growing. I am simply following through on that order,” he says before adding.
“But for what it’s worth…” he leans in closer, whispering into my ear. “I don’t agree with Kael on much. But today, I have never agreed with him more.”
The words land low in my stomach. I’m left in the aftershock of his confession, and I can’t help smiling as I run my hands down the length of my new dress.
For a moment, I forget where I am. Forget what this place has cost me.