Chapter Thirty Riela
Chapter Thirty
Riela
The invitation didn’t sound begrudging, exactly, but there was something in Garrick’s tone that put me on edge. I glanced at the plants again. The courtyard was a completely different place under
the light of the moon, and I desperately wanted to explore.
But strolling through a magical garden with Garrick was a danger all its own.
The Silver King waited patiently for my answer, which was ridiculous enough to make me smile. “I would love to explore the
garden for a few minutes, if you have time,” I finally said, giving him an out.
He nodded and held out his elbow with a challenging lift of his brow. Touching him was even more dangerous, but I’d never
been one to back down from a challenge. I slid my hand into the crook of his arm with deliberate slowness.
His eyes darkened and a tiny smile ghosted across his lips, but he merely turned and led me down the steps to the grass below.
I was not disappointed.
I was not.
“Many of these flowers are native to Lohka,” Garrick said as we strolled into the surrounding greenery. “They only thrive
here with magic.”
The plants seemed to glow, but it was only thanks to the moonlight because they didn’t actually illuminate the area around
them. Garrick and I were tucked into a shadowy garden surrounded by magic and brilliant stars. I clutched his arm closer as
we left the path behind.
“Is all of this magic yours?”
“Yes and no. The Silver King is responsible for the castle and the court, but every sovereign has contributed over the years. All of the magic is mine to command, but it didn’t all come from me. Though, in this case, a large part did, since I was trying to break the seal on the door.”
“Are the seasons in Lohka different? Is that why it’s winter there?”
Garrick held up a branch so I could duck under it, then followed me into a tiny, hidden alcove. “They can be. Most sovereigns
bend the seasons to their will, so spring in the Emerald Court is unnaturally long, for example. The Blood Court and Silver
Court are less tied to a particular season, though Feylan prefers summer.”
That was enough to pull my attention from the exquisite display of softly glowing silver roses in front of me. “And what do
you prefer?”
“I didn’t bother wasting energy to alter the seasons. But I prefer winter.”
I shivered at the memory of cold and hunger and darkness. “Not me,” I murmured.
Garrick tipped his head to the side in consideration. “Your magic disagrees. Blue magic is usually associated with the Sapphire
Court, and the Sapphire Queen loves winter.”
“She can have it. I’ll take spring or summer. Winter is too bleak.”
Garrick smiled, but it was clouded by sorrow. “Not in the Silver Court. At least, not when I’m in residence. The garden blooms
year-round and is even more beautiful against a snowy backdrop. My mother planted many of the flowers, both here and in Lohka.”
He reached out and traced his finger over a velvety rose petal. “Based on our recent trip, it seems only these remain.”
The thought of my garden dead and gone was enough to break my heart. No one should have to face that pain alone. I stepped
closer and slid my arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “I’m sorry,” I murmured against his shoulder.
He had turned to stone against me, but after a moment he carefully rested his hands on my back, his touch featherlight. “Thank
you, ang oydo.”
I squeezed him a final time, then slipped out of his arms. His hands lingered a moment longer than strictly necessary, and I steadfastly ignored the little spike of pleasure that brought. I waved at the wall of roses that were blooming silver against dark stems. “What are these?”
“Moonlight roses,” he murmured. “My mother cultivated them into a distinct variety found only at the Silver Court. This was
her private garden.”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“I spent a lot of time here when I was young. Well, mostly in Lohka, but it’s mirrored.”
I tried to imagine Garrick as a child with sparkling silver eyes and a mischievous smile, back before he’d had to carry the
weight of a court.
“Are your parents in Lohka?”
Garrick shook his head. “They died in an ambush when I was barely a hundred. I was far too young to rule a court, but far
too stubborn to give it up. The first decade was a near constant fight, but it slowly improved as people realized I wasn’t
an easy kill. And the ones who didn’t realize it weren’t alive to make the mistake twice.”
I blinked at him in shock. I had so many questions, but the one that escaped first was “A hundred is young? What is the Etheri age of majority?”
“Lohka is dangerous, so Etheri grow as fast as humans for the first two decades. We reach maturity in our early twenties,
but we don’t truly come into the full extent of our magic until after we reach a century or two.”
If I was lucky, I might live to see a hundred years. Etheri aged on a boggling scale. Garrick didn’t look more than thirty-five, but based on some
of the things he’d said, he had to be over two hundred, at least.
“How old are you?” I whispered.
He shrugged. “I would have to check the archive. Less than a thousand, certainly.” He squinted at me. “How old are you?”
Involuntary laughter bubbled out of me. The sound was slightly hysterical, but I’d just learned that he was a thousand. Well “less than,” but close enough. A little hysteria was to be expected. “I’m twenty-eight. Years, not thousand, to be clear.”
His fingers ghosted over my cheek. “Yet you burn so bright.”
“Well, I don’t have hundreds of years to settle in. At the rate I’m going, I might not even have tens. I’ve got to make them
all count.”
A scowl drew Garrick’s brows together. “You will not come to harm while I yet live.”
I smiled softly. “I appreciate the thought, but you can’t protect me from everything. I could trip on the stairs tomorrow
and break my neck. My heart could give out in my sleep. Grim could decide he likes the taste of human. There are thousands
of ways to die, and living in fear of them is no way to live at all.”
“Grim will not harm you,” Garrick growled. “And I’m moving your room to the ground floor.”
I shook my head. “I like my room where it is, thank you very much. It has a nice view.”
His scowl deepened. “Not the ground floor then, but you’ll be safer if you’re closer,” he murmured to himself. His magic pulsed,
and he nodded in satisfaction.
I didn’t like the gleam in his eyes. “What did you do?”
“Your room now has a nicer view.”
That wasn’t exactly reassuring, but I decided it was a fight that could wait until after dinner. “Come on, I’m hungry, and
your castle won’t feed me unless you’re there to play conduit.”
He nodded, and I relaxed a tiny fraction. We could do this—be friends, offer comfort, tease each other. All I had to do was
ignore the simmering attraction I felt every time he looked at me or touched me or breathed.
It was possible.
Maybe.
After a surprisingly easy dinner, I bid Garrick good night and asked the castle to take me to my room. I stepped through the kitchen door and ended up in the luxurious bedroom I’d seen while snooping through Garrick’s floor for a place to hide.
The delicate, moonlight-silver furniture and deep indigo bedding were spotlessly clean, but they weren’t mine.
“Take me to my room,” I asked again, a little more forcefully, then stepped through the door.
I ended up in the same room facing away from the door, which caused my inner ear to revolt. Once the room stopped spinning,
I turned for the door, exasperated.
“Fine,” I muttered. If the castle wasn’t going to help, then I’d just walk.
I took the stairs down until I found my landing. The doors were closed, but I counted my way down to my room and opened the
door. The bright blue bedspread greeted me like an old friend, and I sighed in relief as I stepped inside.
Between one step and the next, I was back in the silver and blue room.
“Garrick!” I shouted. “What have you done?”
A partially hidden door on the left wall swung open and Garrick sauntered through—from his bedroom. Our rooms were connected
by a single flimsy door.
In truth, the door looked sturdy enough, but it was still just one panel between me and disaster.
“Put my room back where it was,” I demanded.
“No.”
“Garrick,” I growled, but my next words were lost as his eyes darkened. Did he feel the same pull I did when he said my name?
I softened my tone. “Garrick,” I purred, and sure enough, his jaw clenched. “Put my room back or sleep with one eye open.”
“If you want to join me in bed, you only have to ask, Riela,” he murmured. His voice caressed the syllables of my name and
I shivered.
By the smug smile on his face, he knew exactly what he was doing. But before I could tear into him, his expression sobered. “You’re safer here,” he said. “And the room is nicer.”
“I’m not going to stay in a room meant for your spouse!”
“Why not? It’s not in use, and surely you know that I won’t expect you to fulfill any marital duties. I will not open the
door without an invitation unless you’re in danger or need help.”
Heat climbed into my cheeks at the thought of issuing such an invitation. “It’s not proper.”
Garrick looked around. “Who is going to judge? I will sleep better if I know you’re safe. Please stay.”
It was a low blow. He looked dead on his feet because I’d decided to go traipsing through the forest. I didn’t regret the
trip, but I did regret that he’d suffered for it.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “But if you open that door uninvited, then you’re going to move to the ground floor, understand?”
He inclined his head. “As you say.” He turned to go, but just before he pulled the panel closed, he slanted a wicked grin
at me. “My door, however, is always open. Enter whenever you’d like, little mage.”
He closed the panel with a laugh before I could find something to throw at him.