Chapter 14
Serafina
Jax left hours ago, and since then, I’ve spent every second calling upon my flames, and every second experiencing pure agony.
I fall to my knees. The fire that had reached all the way to my elbows goes out, and my muscles scream, feeling as though they’ve been viciously torn apart.
Calling on my flames in the arena won’t be enough. I’ll need to be able to hold them, to command them. The moment Norin and the others see me falter, it’ll be over.
I stand up, and the flames reemerge. I grind my teeth as the orange and red ball in my palm grows and grows.
I am not weak.
I am not weak.
I can do this.
The ball stays, despite my muscles feeling like they’re on fire too, burning in a way that feels inextinguishable, like I’ll remember this searing pain for the rest of my life.
The fire goes out, and I collapse to the ground.
I just need a few more minutes. A few more minutes to rest, but then…I’ll try again.
* * *
Sitting and waiting. Sitting and waiting. I haven’t moved a limb in far too long, my eyes pinned on the door, wishing Jax to come, hoping he’ll keep his promise.
Knuckles rap on the wood, and I spring to my feet in less than a second. Reaching for the knob, I twist and pull it open.
It’s not locked.
Just as Jax had said.
And then, there he is, dressed in all black, the color matching his hair but contrasting so sharply with those molten golden eyes.
“You came,” I say, the disbelief hard to shield from my voice because even though he promised, I wasn’t sure he actually meant it.
He cocks his head to the side, his lips pulling into a faint frown. Sadness flickers across his features.
“You thought I wouldn’t.” It’s a statement, not a question, and his tone lets me know that somehow, in some way, my doubt has hurt him.
I open my mouth to respond but don’t know quite what to say.
His jaw tightens, but after a moment, he says, “Come on, we should get going before the guards rotate shifts again. The ones patrolling the east side just left the gardens.”
He reaches out his hand, slowly, carefully, and I realize he plans to use light to travel.
My stomach drops.
“Absolutely not. We walk,” I say, and there’s so much amusement in his eyes, the signs of his sadness disappearing, or at the very least, being pushed so very far down.
“Serafina,” he chastises, “walking will give you less time to explore the gardens.” His hand inches closer, but I swat it away, and he laughs.
“Don’t care. My stomach could barely handle your light travel when it was empty.
I have no desire to find out what happens when it’s stuffed with all this food you keep shoving at me.
” I move past him, and I can hear that low chuckle again, making me want to pause so my footsteps don’t interfere with the sound of it.
Gods, I’m an idiot.
But even idiots can admire the beauty of something, even more so when that something tends to be so rare, and the prince letting his guard down enough to just be him around me is undeniably rare.
“You realize you’re leading the way when you have no idea where it is we’re going.” I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Oh.” I stop walking, and he crashes into me from behind.
His hands find my hips as he steadies me, steadies us, and once again, I lose the ability to breathe.
The soft pressure of his long fingers wrapping around me has my pulse thrumming, and his mouth is far too close to my ear, so close, I can feel the heat of his breath.
He pulls away.
“After you,” I manage to say, my back finding the wall to make room for him to pass.
He doesn’t say anything, his eyes refusing to meet mine, but he does stroll by, heading in the same direction I had been going in, but then his fingers drag along the wall until stopping on a stone that sticks out slightly more than the others.
He gives it a firm push, and a section of the wall moves inward, revealing a passageway—a secret passageway—and my heart beats with excitement.
I follow him in, and the wall closes behind me. He moves at a quick pace, and I move just as fast, although my steps are forced to be quicker to match his long strides.
Briefly, I wonder why these passageways exist and how many are hidden within these walls, but then I realize something such as this is probably common in every palace in every kingdom.
Allowing the royals to move about unbothered, or perhaps…
allowing them a way to escape if a threat were to ever arise.
I ponder that thought for no longer than a moment, focused instead on how I’m more anxious than I thought I’d be. Not from the fear of being caught, but by the idea of seeing what I’ve been dreaming about for the last few weeks.
The gardens.
We climb stair after stair, my legs burning by the time we reach the top, and I crave the day when my muscles are stronger, hoping it will come sooner rather than later.
The room I’ve been staying in is much deeper underground than I had originally thought. After the fourth flight of stairs and three seemingly endless hallways, we exit through a door that looks very much like a wall and leave the secret passages behind.
A few steps later and we stop in front of a large, intricately carved archway. Jax turns to me, blocking my view of what lies behind him.
“Are you ready?” His eyes find mine for the first time since his hands had steadied me. The golden flakes swirl, and his throat bobs with a soft swallow.
“You know I am.” I step closer, eager for him to let me pass, to allow me to take my first step outside in weeks.
Finally, he moves.
My breath catches as I walk through the archway and my feet find the cobblestone path.
It’s beautiful.
More than beautiful, it’s healing.
Moonlight spills over the gardens, its silvery glow giving everything an otherworldly shimmer. Towering flowers in shades of red, purple, and yellow stretch toward the sky, their delicate petals reaching for the far away stars.
Vine-covered arches line the stone walkways, each one leading to the center of the space, where a fountain made of white marble sits. The surface of the water sparkles like scattered diamonds, and the soft sound fills the silence, as if the garden itself is singing.
Drawn to a cluster of flowers with petals so translucent they appear to glow, my hand instinctively reaches out to touch them, savoring their fragile perfection.
When I was a child, and thoughts of being an Essentari had crept into my mind late at night, I had always envisioned myself as a Terramancer.
A wielder of earth and the life that soil produces.
Someone who could coax plants to bloom with a simple thought, who could bond with nature in such an intimate way.
That’s what I would have chosen, if given the chance.
Even now, standing here, I feel something stirring, a pull toward the plants. It’s something I’ve always felt—drawn to the things that can grow in the darkest of places, survive in the most brutal conditions.
Plants are resilient. Plants are stubborn, and they all have a purpose. Whether it’s simply to provide our world with a bit more beauty or to heal us from wounds we inflict upon ourselves and each other.
They all matter.
It would have been nice to be a Terramancer.
The thought lingers as I run my fingers ever so gently over a vine spiraling up one of the arches, its leaves cool and velvety. It takes my brain a moment, but I know what these are.
Dustviel leaves. And there are so, so many of them.
My eyes scan the gardens, searching for other plants I recognize.
Veracava flowers sit a few yards away. I step closer to them, just to be sure, but I already know I’m right.
Their deep purple petals curl inward, waiting to collect the early morning dew.
Veracava flowers are rare. Their stems are used in treating fevers so severe they leave the body trembling. I’ve only ever seen them in books.
I move farther into the garden, my eyes darting from one place to another, recognizing plants I’d only ever dreamed of finding.
Matlas moss, its green-red strands clinging to the black stones, perfect for slowing bleeding when pressed into a wound.
Shriroot, its bright orange stems peeking out from beneath a flowering shrub, used to treat stomach ailments.
“Do you even know what you have here?” My mind races, barely able to believe what I’m seeing.
I don’t have to turn to know Jax is just behind me.
I can feel him.
“What do you mean?”
I lift my arms, gesturing to the garden with both hands.
“This…this isn’t just beautiful. It’s invaluable.
These plants…” I crouch near a patch of goldenhearst. “Goldenhearst. Its sap can draw out poison from a wound. And over there,” I point to the vibrant yellow blooms of a Lapapetal, “those flowers can be brewed into a tea to ease breathing in those with sick lungs.”
The prince looks to where I point, his expression blank, his mouth unmoving.
“You have an entire apothecary here, Jax. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find these things?”
He angles his head, his face still unreadable. “You know all this just by looking?”
I shrug, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. “I had to learn.” Which is true, I needed to study at least some of these things to pass the second trial. But what I know goes far beyond what was required for that test.
“You’re remarkable,” he says, his voice quiet, and his words surprising. And when his jaw tightens, I know they surprised him, too.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “My sister was the remarkable one.”
Telfi, and it isn’t fair that she died.
It isn’t fair that she somehow didn’t pass the second trial, and I did.
“She…she loved this kind of stuff. And she was a great teacher.”
Silence settles between us, heavy and uncomfortable.
“That doesn’t make you any less remarkable, Nova.” His tone is raw, genuine, and something deep inside me starts to ache.