Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DOMINIC
My boots struck the cobblestones as we crossed the courtyard toward the greenhouse. The cool morning air bit at my face, though it was warming fast. Overhead, clouds gathered, threatening rain that would only make any disaster worse.
Lady Kenneth kept pace behind us, close to running. Savory swooped ahead, her black wings cutting through the air.
Sasha moved at my side, her frown showing her mind was already working. I could see it in the way her eyes tracked everything around us, from servants pausing in their morning tasks, to guards stationed at their posts.
“The festival orchids have been cultivated for over two centuries,” Lady Kenneth said between breaths. “Some varieties exist nowhere else in the realm.”
My stomach twisted. The festival was only a few days away. There might not be enough time to solve this mess. The celebration wasn’t just tradition, it was renewal, the emotional and magical sustenance that kept our court thriving through fall and winter.
And someone had attacked its heart.
The greenhouse came into view, its glass panels catching weak sunlight. Usually the sight filled me with peace. The structure had been my refuge since childhood, a place where court politics couldn’t reach.
Now dread coiled in my chest.
Savory landed on a post, her black eyes fixed on the greenhouse entrance. The door stood ajar when it should’ve been secured.
Two hearts beating as one shall either save the bloom or seal its doom. Lady Edwina’s prediction echoed in my mind. At the time, I’d dismissed it as her usual nonsense. Now the words felt prophetic.
Sasha’s hand found mine, a brief squeeze of solidarity before she released me.
I wasn’t facing this alone.
We reached the greenhouse door, and I pulled it all the way open.
The smell hit first, so fundamentally wrong it made my magical senses recoil.
Instead of the humid, green scent that should greet us, something acrid hung in the air.
Decay mixed with an absence I couldn’t name, like someone had carved out the space where life belonged.
I stepped inside and stopped.
The orchids lined the central tables in precise rows as they had every morning for a very long time. Completely, unnaturally black, as if someone had burned them from the inside while leaving the physical structure intact.
“Sweet fates,” Lady Kenneth breathed behind me.
I reached out with my magical senses, searching for the familiar hum of magic that should pulse through this space. The greenhouse was designed to amplify feeling, to concentrate the joy and connection that fed these particular varieties.
But I found nothing, just a void where magic should flow.
Sasha moved past me, approaching the nearest table. Her plant magic flickered at her fingertips, and her face paled when she touched one blackened bloom.
“It’s not dead,” she said quietly. “But I don’t believe it can sustain itself for long.”
Savory swooped through the greenhouse, circling once before landing on an empty workbench. Even she seemed subdued by the horror filling this space.
I forced myself to move closer, studying the plants, pushing down the nausea rising in my throat. These orchids had been doing alright yesterday. Some were varieties that had grown in this greenhouse since before I was born. All were irreplaceable.
Anger stirred beneath my grief.
This wasn’t random destruction, but calculated sabotage aimed at the heart of our most sacred celebration. Whoever corrupted the underground chamber wasn’t content with subtle dampening anymore. They’d escalated to outright attack.
“I need to speak with the head gardener,” I said.
We found him outside near the eastern wall, kneeling beside a vegetable patch He looked up at our approach, and his recognition shifted to alarm as he caught my expression.
“Your Majesty.” He rose to his feet, brushing dirt from his knees. “You received my message.”
The man had tended these grounds for three decades. I’d known him since childhood and remembered him teaching me the names of plants when I was barely old enough to walk.
“I checked the orchids after dawn, sire. Same as every morning.” His brow furrowed. “They were perfect. Better than perfect, actually. They seemed to be responding well to the new fertilizer mixture I’ve been trying.”
“And after your morning check?”
“I went to the kitchen for breakfast. The head chef always has porridge ready for the staff.” He glanced between us, worry creeping into his expression. “I stayed perhaps half an hour.”
“Who else has access to the greenhouse?” Sasha asked.
The gardener scratched his head. “Well, most anyone in the court, my lady. We don’t lock the doors. Though it’s restricted from after the dinner hour until after breakfast and only for the king’s use during that time.”
His gaze met mine. “Lord Turren likes to visit sometimes. He claims the humidity is good for his complexion. Lady Featherby comes by for herb samples. Lady Edwina will sometimes visit for certain plants she uses for divination, and Lord Primrose and Lady Daphnie will sometimes sneak in for… Well, you know. I’ve told them over and over again to keep that sort of thing private but when the heat’s high…
” He coughed. “Anyway, even the former queen used to—” He stopped, seeming to remember Iberia’s recent exile.
“Any unusual visitors recently?” I asked. “Has anyone shown particular interest in the festival preparations?”
“I can’t say I noticed anything odd, Your Majesty. Though I’ve been so focused on getting everything perfect for the celebration, I might’ve missed someone passing through.”
These plants were his pride, his life’s work. I could see his distress in the way his hands trembled and the grief in his eyes.
“Thank you for your help.”
He dipped his head and got back to work.
“He’s not involved,” Sasha said quietly once we’d started back toward the greenhouse.
“I don’t think so either.” He’d seemed genuinely distressed.
When we returned inside, we found Lady Kenneth examining the orchids, writing things down in a small notebook and making sketches.
“Fascinating,” she said, not looking up when we approached. “The corruption pattern matches descriptions I’ve read in historical texts about the Border Wars.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“When the Northern Courts were fighting the Southern Alliance, both sides weaponized emotional magic.” She gestured to the plants with her pencil.
“There are accounts of entire groves being corrupted this way, plants severed from their connection to the land’s emotional resonance as a form of psychological warfare. ”
“Wasn’t that at least six centuries ago?” Sasha asked.
“Indeed. The techniques were supposedly lost when the peace accords banned such practices.” Lady Kenneth’s eyes gleamed with the particular excitement scholars got when they had the chance to speak about a favorite subject.
“Here we have a perfect example of magical necrosis achieved through emotional starvation. From what I can tell, this isn’t spell damage.
That would leave residue, a fine, gritty powder on the leaves themselves. This is a sustained dampening effect.”
I reached out with my magical senses again, forcing myself past the instinctive recoil. Lady Kenneth was right. I found no spell traces on the plants. Whoever had done this was either very good or they’d taken care not to leave obvious evidence.
“Show me,” Sasha said, her hand finding mine.
Our connection had been strengthening the plants around us for days. Maybe together we could read what had happened here in a way neither of us could alone.
I laced my fingers through hers, and warmth sparked between our palms. Her plant magic rose to meet my fae intuition, the two energies weaving together with increasing ease. I sensed Savory adding her own magic to strengthen ours.
We focused on the nearest orchid, letting our senses probe the blackened flower.
I felt what Lady Kenneth had described. This wasn’t death but a severing. Someone had cut their connection to the emotional energy that sustained them, much like strangling a person by cutting off their air supply.
“It’s skilled work,” Sasha said. “Whoever did this knows exactly how emotion-responsive plants function. They didn’t just dampen the magic, they methodically dismantled the plants’ ability to receive it.”
Around us, other plants in the greenhouse began responding to our joined presence. A cluster of ferns in the corner stretched toward the light. Herbs along the windowsill straightened, reaching toward us.
Hope flickered in my chest. Our connection created islands of healthy energy even in this corrupted space. Maybe we could use that. Maybe—
A servant appeared at the greenhouse entrance, slightly out of breath.
“Lady Kenneth? A package has arrived for you from the Eastern Winds court.”
The lady’s head snapped up, her excitement overriding even the magical mystery inside the greenhouse. “The texts are here already?”
“I assume so, my lady. We’ve placed the delivery in the main hall.”
“If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesties.” Lady Kenneth closed her notebook and hugged it to her chest, moving around us and toward the entrance.
“I’ll review the volumes immediately. Given what we’re seeing here, there may be relevant historical information that could help our investigation.
” She paused at the open doorway. “I’ll have them catalogued and waiting in your office as soon as I can. ”
She left.
With a growl, I turned back to the orchids, clenching my hands into fists.
“This isn’t just sabotage anymore,” I said. “This is an attack on everything our court represents. The festival is sacred. Without it…” I couldn’t finish the thought.
Sasha leaned into my side. “We won’t let them win.”
“We only have one day left to solve this and save the festival.”
“If need be, we’ll adapt.” Her gaze swept across the greenhouse. “Whoever did this will be back, not to do damage here, but to make sure everything is ruined.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because they’re escalating.” She gestured to the blackened plants.
“The earlier dampening wasn’t enough. My assumption is that they need to make sure the festival fails, which means they’ll want to verify their work succeeded and make sure everything else is in the same state.
Or…” Her eyes lit up. “We could set the trap. It would be perfect.”
“I can have fresh plants delivered this afternoon for festival backup.”
“And we make sure everyone knows about it.” She turned to face me fully. “Then we’ll watch who shows up tonight to sabotage the new plants.”
Our plan might be risky, but we were running out of time.
“I need to coordinate with the gardener,” I said, my mind already racing through logistics.
“And we need to review whatever Lady Kenneth finds in those texts. Historical precedent might tell us what we’re really dealing with here.”
Savory made a sound from her perch, the first noise she’d offered since we’d arrived.
Sasha translated. “She says whoever built the underground chamber will return to it eventually. We just need to give them a reason to act now rather than later.”
Smart bird.
We left the greenhouse together, the air feeling clean and sharp after the taint inside. We located the gardener near the south wall, using subtle manipulation of water magic to tend a bed of wilted flowers.
When he looked up, I kept my expression concerned but not panicked, drawing on years of court performance to project the right level of urgency. “I need you to arrange for replacement orchids and have them delivered as soon as possible.”
“Of course, sire. That’s wise. There’s no bringing the others back in time for the festival.”
I paused as if the thought had just occurred to me. “Could we have them here by mid-afternoon? I’d like them settled before evening.”
“I can manage that. Lord Ashcroft’s greenhouse has been producing beautifully this season. And Lady Mulligan’s conservatory always has stunning orchids.”
“Perfect.” I lowered my voice slightly. “Let’s keep this quiet. I don’t want to alarm the court.”
He nodded, his eyes brightening. “Understood, Your Majesty. I’ll be discreet.”
I watched him head toward the stables to arrange transport.
Sasha waited nearby, Savory perched on her shoulder. The morning clouds had thickened, and the first drops of rain began falling as we started back toward the castle.
“You’re good at making emergency measures sound like normal royal efficiency.” Her mouth quirked. “The gardener has no idea he’s helping us set a trap.”
“I’ve had years of practice making difficult decisions look effortless.” I guided her around a puddle already forming in the path. “I’d always thought it was one of the less useful skills my mother taught me.”
The mention of her sent a pang through my chest, but I pushed it aside. I’d made the right choice sending her away, even if it hurt.
We entered the manor house, our clothes damp from rain. Servants hurried through the corridors on their usual tasks, offering respectful greetings as we passed. Hopefully, few knew about the crisis.
I wanted to keep it that way. Panic wouldn’t help.
“What are you hoping to find in Lady Kenneth’s texts?” Sasha asked as we climbed the stairs toward our suite to change into dry clothing.
“Precedent. Pattern. Some indication of what we’re really dealing with.
” I glanced at her. “Historical accounts might tell us if this kind of magical corruption has specific counters. Or at least give us insight into whoever might be behind it. It must take a certain skill to work this kind of magic. There can’t be many fae capable of doing it.
People talk. If someone has this skill, others will know. ”
We changed quickly and hurried to my office.
I could hear movement inside. Lady Kenneth must’ve arrived ahead of us.
I paused with my hand on the handle, looking at Sasha. Rain had dampened her dark hair, but determination blazed in her eyes. This woman who I’d married as a stranger had become vital to me in such a short time.
I opened the door.
Lady Kenneth stood beside my desk covered in volumes, their leather bindings showing age and careful preservation.
She looked up as we entered, and her concerned expression stopped me cold.
“You need to see this,” she said, her voice tight. “What we’re dealing with isn’t sabotage. It’s something much worse.”