Chapter 9 Sasha
CHAPTER NINE
SASHA
As I walked through the castle, Savory shifted on my shoulder. Wisdom has found its footing.
“And I’m starting to expect peculiarity as the norm here.”
The castle’s interior continued to impress me with its beauty, even as I noted more wilting plants in alcoves and drooping vines along the walls. The dying greenery seemed to be everywhere, a constant reminder that something was very wrong with the court’s magic.
Another problem I was eager to solve.
I stopped to examine a decorative arrangement near the main staircase. I suspected these vines would normally be lush and green year-round, fed by the castle’s ambient magic. Instead, they hung limp, their leaves yellowing. I touched one gently, trying to understand what was draining their energy.
The magical interference felt different here, older and more entrenched. I suspected whatever was affecting the plants had been building for weeks, possibly months.
I turned down a corridor lined with portraits, studying the painted faces of what must be Dominic’s ancestors.
They all shared his sharp cheekbones, leaf-green eyes, and noble bearing.
Some wore crowns of antlers like his formal one, while others had simpler circlets or elaborate hairstyles adorned with jewels.
“Your Majesty.”
I turned to find Lord Primrose and Lady Daphnie sweeping toward me, their elaborate outfits somehow even more extravagant than they’d been at breakfast. Lord Primrose’s jacket now featured actual flowers woven into the fabric, while Lady Daphnie’s gown had gained at least three additional layers of ruffles.
“How wonderful to see you,” Lady Daphnie said, her voice bright despite the giggles that interrupted her words. “We were just discussing the most romantic aspects of castle architecture.”
“The way the morning light falls through the eastern windows,” Lord Primrose said, pressing his lace handkerchief to his chest as a chuckle escaped him. “Like golden ribbons weaving through a hawk’s wings.”
“Hawks again?” Lady Daphnie’s fan snapped open. “I was thinking more along the lines of sunbeams dancing like lovers in a meadow.”
“That’s lovely too,” I said in a careful tone. “Have either of you had tea or cakes recently?”
They both paused their debate, blinking at me in surprise.
“Why, no,” Lady Daphnie said after a moment. “We breakfasted quite early this morning. We prefer to take some privately so we can gaze into each other’s souls without distraction. We’re on our way to our suite to have lunch right now.”
“We were distracted by our discussion of architectural romance. It’s very compelling.”
So they were giggling without having consumed anything recently? My theory about contaminated food suddenly seemed less solid.
“I see.” I kept my tone neutral while my mind raced. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“Is there something wrong with the tea and cakes?” Lady Daphnie asked, concern flickering across her face. “Because I absolutely adore Alaina’s lemon cakes, and if there’s an issue—”
“Nothing to worry about,” I said quickly. “I’m just trying to understand some dietary patterns in the court.”
“How wonderfully diplomatic,” Lord Primrose said, though another giggle bubbled up his throat. “Like tracking the migration of wild geese to better understand their mating rituals.”
“Not quite the same thing,” I said. “But I appreciate the thought.”
“We should let you continue your exploration,” Lady Daphnie said, though she looked reluctant to end the conversation. “But do know that we’re available if you need romantic advice or poetic inspiration.”
Lord Primrose lifted his chin. “I’ve been working on a new ode comparing true love to various woodland creatures. Perhaps you’d like to hear it?”
“Maybe another time,” I said, backing away slowly. “I have quite a bit to attend to this afternoon.”
“Of course, of course.” Lady Daphnie waved her fan my way. “But remember, dear, that new love requires constant nurturing. Like a delicate flower in a garden of matrimonial bliss.”
Their words lingered as I walked away, a reminder of what I couldn’t afford to do.
Nurturing feelings might feel good in the moment, but it pulled focus from what mattered, which was protecting the court and solving its problems. That was where I could make a real difference, not in some poetic haze.
Why had I told Dominic I might want more?
Before I could make my escape, Lady Lydia Featherby appeared around the corner, moving with her characteristic flutter.
Today she wore a soft pink gown scattered with embroidered roses, and her braids were woven with matching pink blooms. She took one look at my expression and immediately rushed over.
“Oh my dear, you look positively frazzled,” she exclaimed, her eyes full of worry.
“These first days of marriage can be so overwhelming, especially when adjusting to court life.” She reached into the purse she carried, producing a wrapped piece of candy.
“Here, this is my special honey drop infused with calming herbs. Let it dissolve slowly on your tongue.”
Savory tilted her head, eyeing the sweet with interest.
“And for your lovely companion,” Lady Lydia said, noticing Savory’s attention, “I have sunflower seeds blessed for good health and clarity of mind.” She scattered a few on her palm, and Savory hopped down to investigate.
She smells like healing gardens, Savory said as she plucked at the seeds.
“Thank you, Lady Lydia,” I said, touched by her kindness. “That’s very thoughtful.”
“Nonsense, dear. It’s what family does, and you’re family now.
” She patted my hand. “If you ever need anything, and I mean anything at all, you come find me. I have a lovely jaylon blend that works wonders for wedding nerves, and my grandmother’s recipe for strengthening tea that soothes one after,” she lowered her voice and leaned closer, “vigorous intimate adjustments.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, but Lady Lydia’s expression remained perfectly innocent and caring.
“I’ll remember that,” I strangled out.
“Good girl. Now, you go enjoy this beautiful day, and remember, deep breaths and positive thoughts. Everything has a way of working out for the best.” She bustled away, her skirts swishing around her legs and her jewelry chiming like bells.
Savory’s soft chuckles echoing in my mind. Goodness is trying, even if they miss.
Lady Featherby is sweet, but the others? Trying doesn’t make them less exhausting.
Grace is a language the court will always hear.
She had a point. Learning to manage the various personalities here would be essential if I was going to thrive rather than just survive in this new role. And thriving meant leaning into my strengths as a strategist, not getting lost in personal entanglements that could cloud my judgment.
I found my way back to the third floor of the manor house, relieved to reach the familiar door of our private suite. The sitting room welcomed me with its comfortable furniture and warm lighting, a refuge from court life and erupting giggles.
Savory launched herself from my shoulder, gliding over to perch on the back of another chair.
The doors to the balcony stood open, letting in fresh air and sunlight. The view beyond showed the castle gardens stretching out below, a patchwork of colors even with the wilting sections.
I strode outside and settled into one of the chairs. The breeze felt wonderful on my face, carrying the scent of flowers and earth. Below, lords and ladies strolled through the gardens.
Giggles rang out.
I needed to think this through systematically.
The laughter was affecting people randomly now, or so it seemed.
Some who’d consumed tea and cakes had been impacted, but also Lord Primrose and Lady Daphnie who’d eaten nothing recently.
That suggested either multiple contamination sources or something else entirely.
“I need to map this out properly,” I said aloud.
Savory flew out and landed on the balcony railing. Wisdom is always a blessing. Understanding comes when the pieces stop hiding.
I returned to the sitting room and searched until I found paper and a pencil in a desk near the left wall. Bringing them back to the balcony, I settled in again and stared at the blank page.
Where to start?
I began by creating a simple chart, listing everyone I knew had been affected by the giggling:
Dominic: wedding ceremony, breakfast, afterward
Me: after eating cakes in the kitchen
Queen Iberia: breakfast
Lady Kenneth: breakfast
Lady Edwina: breakfast
Lord Turren: breakfast
Lord Primrose and Lady Daphnie: encountered just now, no recent food
I tapped the pencil against my lips, studying the list. There had to be a pattern here, something I was missing.
Starting a new section, I added the known contaminated items, including tea and cakes.
What about unknown foods?
Dominic had been affected at the wedding ceremony, but were other fae courtiers affected and if so, when had they last had something to eat or drink?
I frowned at the page. The lack of a pattern was almost a pattern in itself. If this was contamination, it was incredibly widespread. But if it wasn’t contamination, then what else could be causing the spontaneous, uncontrollable giggling in multiple people across different times and locations?
A spell perhaps, or some kind of enchantment affecting the court itself rather than specific food items?
I started a new page, writing “Alternative Theories” at the top, then listed them out. A magical contamination of the court itself could explain the widespread effect and would affect anyone in contaminated areas. What determined who giggled and who didn’t?
If this was a deliberate spell cast on specific individuals, it could target multiple people. But how would the caster maintain it? That would require enormous power. This seemed unlikely given the randomness of effects.