Chapter 3 #2
“Up close, it’s clear their petals aren’t just wilted, they’re curled inward as if they’re protecting themselves from something.” She reached out tentatively, brushing her fingertips across the nearest leaf.
“Do you sense anything?” I asked, watching her closely.
“I do, but I can’t pinpoint it.” She frowned at the plant. “It’s not disease or lack of water. It’s like they’re afraid.”
“Hmm.”
I walked further into the room. The floor rippled beneath my feet, colors blooming as I passed.
“This is where we hold our celebrations. The Emotional Bloom Festival will be held here—” Another giggle interrupted me, but I pressed on.
“—in ten days. A full evening of celebration where the entire realm comes alive with magic and joy. Everyone in the court participates.”
“It sounds wonderful.”
It would be, as long as the plants aren’t dying.
Sasha walked over to one of the floral arrangements, studying the drooping blooms with a frown. “What kind of flowers are these?”
“Xavier blossoms. They usually glow in response to emotions.” I stepped closer, stunned at how dull they looked. Something odd was going on within my court. Why hadn’t I noticed? “They’re normally incandescent during the festival.”
She reached out, her fingers hovering above the petals without touching them. Concern flickered across her face, and she pulled her hand back.
“The dining room,” I said, leading her onward.
I was babbling now, desperate to fill the silence with anything other than my ridiculous laughter and conversation about dying plants.
“It seats seventy for formal occasions, though we rarely use it to capacity. Most of the court prefers the smaller dining room across the hall.”
I stopped as we entered, taking in the enormous space. Golden everything, just as my mother had ordered when she’d renovated after abdicating the throne to me. Golden candelabras, golden trim on the ceiling, and golden inlay in the table that stretched the length of the room.
So much gold. Why hadn’t I seen how ostentatious it appeared before?
The chairs pulled themselves out as we approached, their backs featuring wooden spirits that shifted and danced within the grain. The table’s surface rippled like liquid gold, rearranging its inlay patterns to form welcoming spirals and flower motifs.
A big floral arrangement that looked half-dead sat in the middle of the long table.
“Does no one water them?” Sasha asked, moving toward the arrangement. “Or fertilize them? Basic plant care should include such things.”
“They’re indigenous to the fae world and thus, enhanced with our own magic,” I said, fighting another chuckle. “They’re supposed to be self-sustaining, drawing life-giving power from the court itself.”
Her dark eyes narrowed. “Then why are they dying?”
“I don’t know,” I said, a spurt of laughter shooting out of me that I did my best to control.
“The question had been nagging at me for weeks now, ever since I first noticed some of the plantings in the greenhouse wilting. I assumed it was a temporary fluctuation in the court’s magic, something that would resolve itself.
But it’s getting worse, and I have no idea why. ”
“Hmm.” She studied the plants, moving around them to view them from all angles.
I found myself studying her instead, taking in the concentration on her face, the way she moved so carefully, and the intelligence in every glance. If only I knew what she was thinking, then I might understand the mind behind those cautious eyes.
More than that, however, I wanted to prove I was more than the giggling fool who’d embarrassed her at our wedding.
I wanted her to see the parts of me I hid behind smiles and courtly charm. Hopefully she wouldn’t see how unremarkable I truly was without them.
“The manor house is this way,” I said, gesturing toward a side corridor. “It’s adjacent to the castle but less formal. We prefer the privacy there rather than inside the main palace.”
“We?”
“My mother, Iberia, has a suite on the second floor.”
“I see.”
I led her along a covered walkway lined with more drooping plants, into the smaller stone building beyond.
“The castle is for show, for ceremonies and formal audiences,” I said. “This is home.”
The first floor opened into a cozy sitting area, all comfortable chairs and warm lighting. Bookshelves lined one wall, and Sasha’s eyes caught on them immediately, her expression brightening for the first time since we’d arrived.
“You’re welcome to read anything you like,” I said. “The library here is mostly historical texts and magical theory, but if there’s something specific you want, I can have it brought from the castle collection.”
“Thank you.” The words sounded formal, but a touch of real appreciation shone beneath them.
I showed her the kitchen next, where the staff paused in their preparations to curtsy and bow. They called out greetings that made me chuckle involuntarily again. Fates, would it never stop?
They laughed as we left them behind, Sasha frowning back at the closed door before she shook her head and looked forward.
The greenhouse had been built into the back of the manor, a glass-enclosed space that should be bursting with life. Instead, more wilted plants greeted us, their leaves curling and browning at the edges.
Sasha’s frown deepened. “This is concerning.”
“Yes,” I said, the giggle that followed undermining my serious tone. “It is.”
She glanced at me, and sympathy flickered across in her face. Perhaps she was beginning to realize my laughter wasn’t any more voluntary that whatever was going on with the court’s plants.
“The second floor has guest rooms,” I explained as we climbed the stairs. “My mother’s suite is here as well, though she maintains another residence in the eastern district. Most guests stay at the castle, so these rooms are rarely used.”
Another chuckle escaped as we continued upward. My throat was getting sore from fighting against the constant laughter.
“And this,” I said as we reached the third floor, “is the private suite for the king and queen of our court.”
I opened the door to reveal a large sitting area, comfortably furnished with a sofa, chairs, and a low table.
A fire crackled in the fireplace, adding warmth and a rosy glow to the room.
Two doors stood on opposite walls, one clearly leading to a bathing chamber, given the glimpse of marble and brass fixtures inside.
I led her toward the other door and opened it to a short hall beyond.
“Your room is there,” I said, pointing to the door on the left. “Mine is across the hall. We share the sitting area and bath, but you’ll have complete privacy in your own space.”
Sasha’s cheeks colored, and I found the blush utterly enchanting. For all her composure, she could still be caught off guard.
“Separate beds,” I added quickly, another giggle interrupting. “For now, I mean. Until—unless—I didn’t want to presume—”
“Thank you. That’s very considerate of you.”
I urged her inside her room and showed her the walk-in closet where her gowns had already been unpacked and arranged, the rich fabrics creating a rainbow of color against the dark wood. “If you need anything else, the staff can provide it. Or I can—” Chuckle. “—help you acquire whatever you need.”
She nodded, clearly still guarded but no longer appearing quite as distant as she’d been during the tour.
I wanted to ask about her vows, about the sincerity I’d heard in her voice when she’d spoken of partnership and alliance. Had she meant the words, or had they been as carefully crafted as everything else about her, a strategic approach to an arranged marriage?
I also wanted to speak my own vows I’d spent considerable time writing, but the last thing I needed to do was laugh my way through them.
Frustration built in my chest like a storm.
“I should let you settle in,” I said, stepping back toward the hall.
“There’s a bell system here.” I indicated the pull cord near her door.
“Please feel welcome to call the servants for anything you need. Or me.” My face grew hot.
“That is, if you think I can help. If you’d like a meal brought up, just ring.
The kitchen will prepare whatever you prefer. ”
“Thank you.”
“And don’t worry,” I added, another chuckle escaping despite my best efforts. “Fae food isn’t actually enchanted, contrary to what the myths say. You won’t accidentally bind yourself to the court by eating our bread.”
She didn’t laugh, but she did nod. “I wasn’t afraid of that.”
Something in her steady, unintimidated tone made hope flare in my chest. She might be guarded, but she wasn’t fragile. She also didn’t seem to be the type to wilt under pressure or flee from challenges.
Savory lifted from Sasha’s shoulder, gliding across the room to settle on the back of a chair near the window. The raven surveyed the space with those unsettling eyes, as if cataloging every detail.
“I’ll leave you to rest. If you need anything at all, please call out.”
“I’ll manage,” Sasha said, and thankfully, her tone wasn’t cold, just factual.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, finally allowing myself to acknowledge the full weight of this disaster.
My wedding day, what should’ve been a ceremony of alliance and possibility, had turned into a humiliating farce.
The mystery of the giggling, whatever the cause, had ruined everything.
And the plants. I couldn’t ignore the pattern anymore. The castle’s greenery was wilting and the magical flora that should be thriving was dying instead. Something was very wrong with the court’s magic, and I had no idea what.
A giggle escaped me, and I pressed my fist against my mouth, irritation burning through me.
I needed to figure this out. Both the giggling problem and the dying plants.
Not just for the court’s sake, but for Sasha’s.
I needed to prove I was more than the fool who’d laughed his way through his wedding vows.
That beneath the kingly demeanor I wore like armor, there was someone worthy of the serious, strategic, strong witch I’d somehow been lucky enough to marry.
Even if she didn’t see that part of me yet.
Even if I’d given her every reason not to.
I pushed away from the door and strode into my room, shutting the door and walking over to the window, peering out.
Twilight was falling, the magical lights beginning to glow throughout the court.
Normally, the sight filled me with happiness and pride.
Tonight, all I could see were the shadows gathering in placed, the wilting plants that spoke of deeper problems.
But I’d faced challenges before. Political intrigue, magical threats, and the weight of a crown I’d never expected to wear so soon. I could face this too, if only to show her I was competent beneath the laughter.
For my court. For my people. And maybe, if I was very lucky and very careful, for the dark-haired witch in the next room who’d promised partnership even while I’d made a mockery of her sincerity.
Although, I couldn’t help fearing that once the giggling and wilting stopped and life turned ordinary, she’d see no reason to stay with a king who was just…me.
Another giggle escaped, quieter now. I grimaced and turned away from the window.
Tomorrow I’d start looking for answers.
Tonight, I’d give her the space she needed and try to figure out what in the Fates’ name was happening to me.