Chapter 25 #2
The sun had started to set when Sasha found me near the fountain, directing the final placement of a flat of rose bushes.
“We need to wash and change,” she said.
I glanced toward the sky. The first part of the festival would begin at sunset, when the stars appeared and the emotion-responsive flowers would glow the brightest. Less than two hours.
I straightened, wincing when my back protested. “Alright.”
We hurried back to our suite, passing servants carrying last-minute decorations and lords and ladies already dressed in their festival clothing. The hallways buzzed with anticipation, the air itself almost humming with building magical energy.
Inside our rooms, we bathed quickly. The hot water felt amazing, washing away soil and sweat and some of the tension coiled in my muscles.
When I emerged, Sasha sat at a dressing table in my room, working through the tangles in her hair. Savory perched nearby.
“What’s Savory saying?” I asked, pulling on pants.
“That you’re taking too long and the festival won’t wait for vanity.”
“I’ve been working all day.”
“She knows. She’s being difficult on principle.”
I grinned and reached for my formal tunic, the deep green one that Sasha said brought out my eye color. I fumbled with the buttons more than I should. Exhaustion was catching up, or maybe it was anxiety thrumming beneath my skin.
Would the festival go as planned?
Sasha appeared at my side, nudging my hands away to fasten the buttons herself. Her fingers moved quick and sure, tidying what I’d mangled.
“We did everything we could,” she said, not looking up from the buttons. The plants are as strong as we can make them. The guards have been positioned. If they attempt to sabotage the event, we’ll catch them.”
“And if we don’t?” The question escaped before I could stop it. “What if they slip through again? They could complete the Grand Severance, and I’d fail to protect my people from—”
“Stop.” She pressed her palm against my chest, over my heart. “You haven’t failed. We haven’t failed. Not yet.”
I covered her hand with mine. “I’m terrified this won’t be enough.”
“Me too.” Her eyes met mine. “But we’re facing it side by side.”
The simple truth of that steadied me.
I kissed her forehead, then her mouth. “Thank you for being you.”
Her smile flickered. “Put on your footwear, Your Majesty. We have a festival to attend.”
While she returned to her preparations, I took in my appearance in the mirror. The formal tunic fit perfectly, the embroidered leaves at the cuffs catching faelight. My antler crown waited on its stand, but I’d don that last, just before we descended.
Sasha emerged from behind the dressing screen in a gown that made my breath catch.
Deep burgundy fabric hugged her frame before flowing loose around her legs, embroidered with silver vines that appeared to move in the light.
She’d braided her hair into an elaborate crown, woven through with tiny white flowers.
“You’re stunning,” I gulped out.
Color touched her cheeks, and she glanced down at her gown. “Is it too much?”
“It’s perfect.” I crossed to her, taking her hands. “You’re perfect.”
Her mischievous smile rose. “You look pretty good yourself.”
Savory made a sound from her perch.
“She says if we don’t leave now, we’ll be late for our own festival,” Sasha said.
I settled the antler crown on my head and offered Sasha my arm. She took it, her fingers curling around my elbow, and we left our suite together.
The foyer had been transformed. Enchanted lights floated near the ceiling, casting everything in warm gold. Servants in festival finery lined the walls, ready to guide guests toward the gardens. The front doors stood open, revealing the first arrivals making their way up the main path.
Court members in brilliant colors mingled near the entrance.
Lady Featherby’s gown shimmered with protective runes stitched into the hem.
Lord Turren had found a tunic that made him look both elegant and vaguely sinister.
Lord Primrose and Lady Daphnie matched in coordinating shades of rose and cream, already composing poetry about the evening’s promise.
Sasha’s hand tightened on my arm as we descended the stairs. The weight of expectation pressed down hard on my body. Everyone believed this would be a normal festival, beautiful and joyful and exactly what our court needed to bring joy to the next year.
They had no idea we were standing on the edge of potential disaster.
“Your Majesties.” A servant approached, dipping into a bow. “The first guests are being escorted to the gardens now. Shall we—”
The gardener appeared at the entrance, his face pale. He spotted us and hurried over, leaning close to speak quietly. “Your Majesty, I’m sorry to interrupt, but some of the emotion-responsive flowers near the eastern path are showing stress. The petals are starting to wilt.”
Ice flooded my veins. “Already?”
“I noticed it a short time moments ago when I did my final check.” His voice dropped further. “It’s spreading. Not quickly, but steadily.”
“And the…guards?”
“Have not seen anything unusual.”
“Thank you for letting me know. Please do what you can to help revive them.”
He nodded and slipped through the growing crowd.
Sasha’s fingers dug into my arm. A glance down showed the same panic on her face that was shooting through me. Had our saboteur somehow slipped past our guards to the chamber below ground? They could be there right now, working their corruption while guests arrived and the festival began.
“We need to go,” Sasha said.
I turned to the nearest servant. “Continue greeting guests. Tell them we’ll join them shortly. We’re conducting a final ritual blessing for the gardens.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
We moved toward the doors, trying not to look like we were fleeing. Guests called greetings that I returned with automatic smiles, my mind already racing ahead to the hillside and what we might find in the underground chamber.
We’d just cleared the back entrance of the castle when my mother appeared at the garden path.
She wore a gown I remembered from years ago, simple but elegant in deep blue, and she’d swept her hair back in a style that reminded me of festival nights from my childhood.
She looked uncertain standing there, her hands clasped in front of her, nothing like the confident former queen who’d ruled this court for decades.
Everything in me seized. Anger surged first. She wasn’t supposed to be here. I’d sent her away. She’d betrayed my trust. But underneath that came relief so sharp it hurt, because she was my mother and part of me had been aching for her despite what she’d done.
“Dominic.” She paused when I did, not approaching too close, respecting the distance between us.
“I know I shouldn’t have come back without permission, but I sensed the court was in danger.
” Her voice stayed steady, but her eyes held something I’d never seen there before. Humility. “What can I do to help?”
Sasha’s hand found mine, squeezing.
I wanted to tell my mother to leave. That would protect me from whatever manipulation might be coming. But the flowers were dying and the festival was starting and we were running out of time to stop someone from destroying everything.
And I’d missed her.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“I’ve been tied to this court’s magic my entire life. When the emotional resonance started failing, I felt it.” She glanced toward the gardens, worry creasing her face. “There’s more to this than just wilting flowers, isn’t there?”
“Yes.” Sasha spoke before I could. “Someone’s been corrupting the court’s emotional magic for over a year. We believe they’re planning to complete a Grand Severance ritual tonight.”
My mother’s face went white. “That’s impossible. The Severance Arts were banned—”
“But not forgotten.” I forced my voice to stay level. “We’ve been trying to catch them, but they keep slipping through our defenses.”
She looked between us, and I watched her process everything with genuine alarm on her face.
“I know something about emotional magic dampening,” she said. “I ran these festivals for years. I can sense plant distress the way you sense court politics.” She paused, meeting my eyes directly. “I’m not here to take over. I’m here to help, if you’ll let me.”
Suspicion rose immediately. Was this another attempt to control things? To position herself as the solution so I’d be grateful and bring her back?
But Sasha’s hand remained steady in mine, and I remembered what we’d learned together over the past weeks. Accepting help didn’t mean surrendering authority. Partnership didn’t equal weakness. And love could be imperfect and still valuable if I maintained boundaries.
“What do you know about strengthening emotion-responsive plants under attack?” I asked.
Relief flickered across my mother’s face. “Enough to keep them alive through the festival. If you want, I could stabilize them while you handle the rest.”
“The gardener noticed the first failures on the eastern path,” Sasha said.
My mother nodded and started in that direction, then stopped. She looked back at me, something fragile in her expression.
“Thank you for letting me help,” she said. “I know I don’t deserve—”
“We don’t have time for this conversation right now.” I kept my voice firm but not cruel. “After the festival is over, we’ll talk. But right now, my court needs all of us.”
She straightened, and for a moment I saw the queen she’d been. “Then let’s save it.”
We moved together through the gardens, past arriving guests who exclaimed over the decorations and pointed at the glowing flowers. My mother headed toward the eastern path, her magic already reaching out to assess the damage.
Sasha and I veered toward the hillside, where the hidden entrance waited behind the vines. The guards we’d positioned nearby remained still as statues, their illusion magic holding firm.
I stopped in front of one of them. “What have you seen?”
“Nothing, Sire,” he said, his lips not even appearing to move. “No one has passed.”
Was it a mistake to come here rather than remain close to the entrance to the gardens?
“If they’re down there casting the final ritual, we may be too late,” Sasha said softly.
“I don’t believe they are. Not yet.” I pushed aside the vines, revealing the wooden door.
“The Grand Severance requires maximum emotional energy. They’ll wait until the festival peaks, when everyone’s gathered and the celebration reaches its height.
If they’re here, they’re just weakening the foundations. ”
“Then we might have time.”
“We might.”
I pulled the door open. The stone steps descended into darkness, lit only by the faint glow of our own magic.
Below, someone who’d lived among us for over a year could be preparing to destroy everything that made my court complete.