Chapter 20
CHAPTER
In the days that followed, we spun an intricate web of lies about the queen and her night guard that spread like wildfire, just as Gia had predicted. El was particularly chatty, taking every chance she got to inquire if anyone had any updates or had seen anything with their own eyes.
As is the way of gossip, it took on a life of its own.
Gia and I found ourselves giggling at the absurd things we’d heard, like one servant who swore they saw the guard’s head under the queen’s skirt on the terrace one evening, and another who claimed she had taken two lovers.
The first part of our plan had worked superbly.
However, acquiring the right ingredients for the sleep potion was a little more complex.
Gia knew nothing about plants, so we had to find a way for me to see the gardens myself and make an assessment of what was available.
When I asked her how she even knew of this private garden, she’d said that the king was a reveler in every sense of the word.
He liked to experiment with extracts and oils that caused erotic hallucinations and sensory enhancements.
When Gia acted dim-witted but curious, he was elated to give her a tour of his gardens and educate her on such verdure.
This was how Gia was able to first inquire about the roped-off section of the garden that housed his precious collection.
In the distance, she noted that every single plant was black, a clear indicator of a peculiar origin.
King Silas was quick to brush her off, noting that it was simply his Grim Garden, and she should not concern herself with such dangerous things.
He had carried on with the tour, pointing out the more colorful and exotic arrangements.
So to set the next part of the plan into motion, first, I escorted Lady Gianna on a walkabout through the solarium, which was a giant glass dome.
The temperatures inside were even more sweltering than we’d grown used to, but unlike the castle exterior’s dry heat, this was thick and humid.
Moisture filled the air and left sticky residue along our skin.
There were old statues covered in moss, and ivy crawling up lattices along the wall.
Giant, leafy plants surrounded small fountains and a never-ending array of bright florals littered every corner of the gardens, creating a maze of rainbows.
Many of these plants could not survive outside the protection these glass walls provided.
If I had known the option existed, I would have requested Saryn and Theory install me as a gardener.
The sheer size of it compared to the castle was breathtaking.
We quieted our speech with each stride, trying to ensure our voices did not carry.
Once I had sight of the Grim Garden, we took many passes of it.
Some days, we would take a rest and seat ourselves on the bench closest to the roped off areas.
Other times, Gia would stand watch or flirt with the guards while I perused behind her back and pretended to pick a floral arrangement for my lady.
It wasn’t long before I had spotted the Black Delilah.
In small quantities, it could be used to relax the muscles, slow the heartbeat and induce sleep.
A slightly heavier dose invited minor paralysis of the body.
Only in large quantities did it become lethal.
The Black Delilah was commonly extracted to treat sleep disruption, and only when prepared by a healer.
After spotting it, I drew its unique shape on a piece of paper for Gia so she’d know exactly which one to grab and how much.
We burned that piece of paper to conceal any evidence after confirming she knew what to look for.
Later that week, Gia visited the solarium, shapeshifting into one of the gardeners and, using gloved hands, carefully collected my materials.
I had no way of preparing the items while sharing a room with El, who had become central to the gossip ring down in the servants’ quarters.
Therefore, after dinner, I would work in secret in Gia’s bedroom.
Pretending to cater to her needs while I was actually carefully extracting the essence of the Black Delilah, I prepared a healthy dose of sleep tonic.
I would have preferred to have my books to guide me, but I relied on memory to the best of my ability and followed standard practices for handling such delicate materials.
Separately, I had prepared a much simpler concoction of other ingredients that would induce a fit of vomiting, keeping the queen’s lady’s maid occupied in the washroom for hours.
As the weekdays passed and the night of our mission approached, my thoughts were consumed by Varro.
Had he made it to the safehouse even once?
Had Saryn kept him informed of the plans?
We would not have the luxury of returning to the safehouse on the next sabbath, since that would be when we’d carry out the plan, which meant it would be an additional week before I even got the chance to see him for the first time since leaving Basdie.
I just needed to see his face to be certain he was alright.
During the day, I kept my mind sharp and focused, but at night when I lay in bed next to a snoring Eladir, I struggled to keep my thoughts from wandering to him.
On more than one occasion, I considered giving myself a tiny dose of the tonic to remedy this.
There was also anxiety about whether or not Nori could pull off her part.
I imagined the dreamworld was not like reality.
Did proximity matter? What did we all look like inside our dreams?
How would she find the night guard? I reasoned she knew where the royals slept, like all healers would.
Once she located the queen’s quarters in the dream plane, there would only be one sleeping mind to enter—Gia would make sure of that.
For a castle that had recently undergone a coup, it was surprising how relaxed their procedures had become.
Zarif was the only individual who truly struck fear into me.
He was always watching, always assessing, and his silent manner made for an eerie presence.
He had not spoken to me since our first encounter, but he’d glanced at me on more than one occasion, gazing too long for comfort.
He was the only reason I constantly looked in the mirror, checking my appearance.
Making sure the burn behind my ear was covered by my hair, that my skin appeared to have a natural tan and, most of all, that I was as inconspicuous as the rest of the staff.
Since Gia had made no complaints about my services, this kept Shira out of my way.
I’d made acquaintances with a few more servants thanks to El being particularly friendly.
Gia did share that she had learned early on that Zarif suffered from what is known as “Ever Autumn,” a type of colorblindness, but that the servants referred to it as a hex and claimed it was the mark of a severed soul.
This only heightened the staff’s fear of him.
Typically, I found myself erring on the side of science, placing no significance on a simple sight disorder.
But there was something to the gossip, if I were being honest. Zarif appeared soulless, even lifeless at times.
A husk of a Fae. Everything I’d read of dark magic meant there was a price, a consequence.
Though he had never displayed anything other than an unpleasant aura, nor revealed any skill with magic, I secretly feared there was more beneath the surface.
The night of the mission passed in a blur.
I walked through the motions almost mechanically, in disbelief of my role in it.
The Canary Veil was never planned to hurt anyone, let alone murder someone.
It just played out that way because of inexperience and mistakes.
This was well-planned and intended to result in the death of more than one individual.
My vials of sleep tonic were like props being carried onto the stage of a play where this tragedy would unfold.
Any unnecessary loss of life was regrettable, but I continued to tell myself that every person in Nasallus was complicit in what was occurring.
I kept convincing myself as I handed the tray to a young lady’s maid—who looked identical to the real one, now puking up her guts in the basement.
I would never tire of seeing Gia’s magnificent capability, both in awe and envy.
The moment the tray left my fingertips, it all began, and we each played our roles flawlessly.
The queen in her bedroom.
The guard at her door.
The crashing noises of the tray falling from my arms.
Pieces moving quickly, like pawns across a chessboard to sacrifice the queen.
And in the early morning, while tending to Lady Gianna’s hairstyle, we heard the sweet sounds of our victory ensue in the form of a shrill, high-pitched scream.
Checkmate.
I dared not peek my head out the door to watch Cairis’ part, though curiosity itched at us both to do so.
All this would be for naught if he wasn’t there to escort the night guard to the cells.
All we could do was wait. And wait we did.
One long week of silence, waiting for answers that would only come when we could return to the safehouse once more.