Wildflower

Chapter Twenty-One #2

Ruth turns to me, concern etched in every groove of her face.

“Curses cannot be broken easily, least of all without significant sacrifice. Don’t feel any guilt, Fliss.

I was more than willing to try, and I’m sorry it didn’t work.

Shortly after, Fern and I had our own falling out, so Marc and I decided to raise the wards around the cottage, thinking it would protect us from being Morgana’s next target.

He gave Lilibeth access when they ran into each other in the citadel, just in case she ever wanted to return.

He was never one to give up on people.” She smiles at her old friend. “And here you are.”

The hyacinths sit between them, a bridge of forgiveness, but something…something isn’t right. There’s something in what Ruth said…

My spine prickles.

Morgana’s next target.

Wait. There was a conversation. At the castle. Morgana was there. Or…no, she wasn’t there, but the queen said—or was it—when…with…

Like the first coal of a blacksmith’s fire, my memories spark to life. The sediments of my lost days stir. I remember.

To everyone’s surprise, I stand up. The chair tips back and crashes against the wooden floor with such a crack that I’m glad there aren’t any cats nearby.

“They’re planning something,” I announce.

No one moves, waiting for me to find the words.

“The queen and Morgana. They were talking when I was in the physician’s room,” I say. “They ordered the flowers. The rare ones.”

I look down at Will. I can tell his mind is already at work, spinning to put together the pieces. There’s a cute crunch of concentration between his eyebrows and—no, focus.

“Will knew where they were because he studied at the Library. That’s also where Morgana lives, so she could have easily accessed the same information and sent the book over for me to find the Odyssa.”

“She’s coming to Alrick for the wedding tomorrow,” Mum says, and exchanges a nervous look with Ruth.

The wedding.

My hands fly to my forehead.

“Oh my gods,” I blurt out, causing a twinge in my gut. “They—She was worried the ceremony would be canceled. But why—?”

Mum stands and reaches a comforting hand out. “Okay, honey. Settle down, it’ll be okay.”

“Have you seen Card at all while I’ve been gone? Did he come to see you? Ask about me?”

“Fliss, sit down. Breathe.”

“Did he?”

“As far as I know, he hasn’t left the castle.”

What? Her answer grazes my chest like a sharp thorn. The last time Cardamine saw me, I was half dead, curled in Will’s arms and dripping blood. He screamed my name. I can’t imagine he’d be sitting idly by. Hasn’t he tried to find me?

Still, there’s only one thing to do.

“We have to warn them.”

That’s what I do best. I tell people the truth. Problem solved.

“They won’t believe you,” Will says. “Not without proof.”

“I’m cursed to tell the truth. They have to believe me.”

He shakes his head. “You’ve spent too much time here with me. They’ll be suspicious if you suddenly return and start accusing the queen of plotting.”

“But Bash knows you were saving my life.”

“Yes, but most people in the citadel believe I’d do anything to tear him down, regardless of if it’s true or not. Sending you back as a mole wouldn’t be that far-fetched.”

“I hate to agree,” Mum says, “but he’s right.

After you fled, every available guard was ordered to comb the forest looking for you.

That’s why it took me a few days to arrive.

I’m sorry, Willoh—I didn’t know when the best time to bring it up was—but there’s a warrant for your capture, for your… execution.”

I harden, but Will simply rolls his eyes. “They can try.”

“Perhaps it would be better for you both to stay inside the wards for the time being,” Ruth says. “Especially with Morgana returning to Alrick.”

“We can’t do nothing,” I say, and look beseechingly at my mother. “We have to tell them!”

“Morgana brings nothing but calamity,” she says. “You will stay as far away from her as you can.”

“Mum, please. We show them that Will saved my life. We tell them the whole story. If the rare flowers are dangerous and there’s a chance they’ll be used at the wedding ceremony, then we have to warn them!”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Stop trying to control me!” It leaves my mouth like a clap of thunder.

Mum doesn’t reply. Her silence says everything, and from her taut expression, she’s not willing to budge. But there’s a frothing anger in my chest that won’t cease. Too long. I’ve been playing this game too long, and the one situation in which my curse can actually help, she refuses to let me.

“Never once have I done something without considering how others will be affected,” I say.

“I choose the right words, choose which secrets to keep and which truths to share in order to keep other people happy. Card called me a people pleaser once and he was right. But I’m the one who collected those flowers, so I’m partly responsible for whatever happens. I want to do something about it.”

“Fliss, sit down,” Mum says, her voice an arrowhead. “You’re not yet fully healed.”

“The wedding is tomorrow.”

“You are going to stay here and rest. That’s final.”

“Rest?”

“Yes, Felicity. Staying out of it is the best thing for you.”

“If they use the flowers and it hurts Bash in some way, if it hurts Card in some way—” I can’t finish my sentence, because truthfully, I don’t know what I would do in that situation.

I have no idea what it would push me to do.

Despite all they’ve done, all the betrayals and accusations, neither Bash nor Card deserves whatever chaos Morgana is bringing.

“Honey,” Mum says, but I’m done listening. I stomp out of the cottage, out into the wind and the flowers that don’t try to control me.

“Is this your version of stress-haying?” Will asks from over my shoulder.

My fingers pause from tearing apart a group of weeds I’d found by the bench at the front of the cottage. My blood is thrumming. To learn that Mum and Morgana’s manipulation is why I’m cursed, and then to have Mum refuse to let me use it for good is outrageous. I can’t believe her.

“I’m very irritated right now,” I say in warning.

“I can see that.”

I throw down the weeds and clamber to my feet. Will’s face is impassive, his hands tucked in his usual maroon jacket.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” I ask. “There’s a warrant out for your death.”

“I figured one of us should try to keep a cool head. I’ll take my turn after you,” he says, and gods forbid, gives me a huge grin.

I grasp the air like I’m battling with it and yell.

Will waits, and when my throat cracks and exhaustion waves in, he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around me.

I bury my face in his chest. Gods, I could linger here forever, surrounded by his warmth and that soothing, familiar scent, clinging to his back like moss on bark.

“I don’t want to go back inside,” I grumble into his jacket.

“You don’t have to.”

“Good.”

We hold each other in the wild grass, accompanied by the rustling forest leaves and distant birdsong.

“What do you want to do about the wedding?” Will eventually asks.

I groan and knock my forehead into his chest. “I don’t know.”

He pulls back and rests his hands on either side of my neck, his thumbs cupping my jaw, then presses a light kiss to my forehead. It makes my heart stumble, like tripping over a branch in the woods.

“Felicity, you are exceptionally endearing for always wanting to do the right thing,” Will says. “Whatever you want to do, I’m by your side. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Charging in isn’t the best idea, is it?”

“Logically speaking, I think we need some evidence,” Will says.

“I only have the anonymous requests, but I never caught the delivery person.”

“Then we go straight to the source.”

“Sounds like you have a plan,” I say, and purse my lips, impressed. I love the way the movement makes his eyes dance to my mouth. Somehow, and seemingly without much effort, Will has swept away my previous annoyance. Damn, he’s good.

He moves his hands to my waist and pins them in place there.

Just like he did yesterday when he’d had me writhing under his mouth.

After cleaning up the workshop, he’d kissed me good night at the door to my room, several times, all while intending to leave.

We’d been unable to drag ourselves apart even after I’d yawned in his mouth.

It took Mustard jumping onto the top of the cat tower and hissing for us to head to sleep.

“I told you,” he says, closing the distance. The air between us crackles. “I’m at your mercy, Princess. Anything for you.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

I’m close enough to see the gradient of his eyes, each artisan’s brushstroke of gold.

With a smug hum, Will runs his thumbs around the inside of my waistband.

The breath of his chuckle tickles as he indulges himself, as he dips his hand over the curve of my bare waist, then hovers, an inch away from my lips, not kissing me, but setting off a swarm in my stomach.

Idiot. He thinks he can tease me like this. He thinks he can just—

He presses his lips to mine and my legs almost give. Okay, maybe he can. I’m going to shatter.

“I think—” Will breathes, then dives to kiss me once more.

“Mm-hmm,” I reply, against his mouth.

“We should”—he kisses me again—“go to”—and again—“the Library.”

It shouldn’t be a surprise that I can’t reply, because he decides to run his tongue along my bottom lip and kiss me even harder.

It’s intoxicating. Devilishly satiating.

It has me flattening myself against him and gripping fists of his hair.

He seems to lose his train of thought for quite some time.

“Will—” I manage to choke out.

“Hmm?”

“Your idea?”

“Huh? Oh.”

He licks his lips, struggling to come back to reality.

“The Library,” he pants, and catches his breath. “Maybe…Maybe we can find out what kind of magic they’re planning to use the flowers for. I know a professor who’d be willing to hear us out.”

“So we can work out their plan.”

“Exactly.”

Without warning, Will scoops me up under my knees and seizes me in his arms. My hands fly out behind his neck for balance so we don’t tumble into the weeds, but I shouldn’t have panicked. There’s nowhere safer.

“A classic Fliss-and-Will move.” He grins. “If we take Jeremy, we’ll get to the Library by midafternoon. It’s too far to go on foot, even magically assisted. You can get answers about the flowers before heading back to the citadel in time for the wedding.”

My heart catapults toward the sun he blocks.

“You want to sneak out?” I ask, so excited that I almost yell.

He has a reckless glint to his eyes that crinkles the corners.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be the worst crime I’ve committed in the past week.”

“Let’s do it.”

“That didn’t take much persuading.”

“Would you rather go back inside and play house with our mothers?”

He raises his eyebrows at me like I’ve gone mad. “Absolutely not.”

“Then,” I say, pulling him closer by his collar, “whisk me away.”

In almost no time at all, we’re in the stables with Jeremy saddled up and a satchel of supplies strapped to him.

Will conjures some warmer clothes and offers me a fleece-lined jacket and some stretchy trousers more suited for riding than my long skirt.

My mother’s warning about the forest gives us a moment of pause, but Will promises he can magically send a message later on, letting our parents know we’re safe.

Our near deaths are not something Mum or Ruth should have to consider happening again.

It’s not something that will happen again.

Will swings onto the saddle in front of me and then turns his head.

“Ready?”

A lump in my throat, I nod, and he leads Jeremy off in a trot toward the forest, toward answers and an entire army of guards out for blood.