Chapter Thirty-Four - Something Old, Something New #3
“It’s magnificent,” she said as she looked up at a tree she knew to be extinct.
“Whenever he had something to chew over, I always knew that I would find him here,” said the King, giving the plants around him only a cursory look.
His gaze fell on a nearby bench, a small table placed beside it that was filled with papers and scrolls, a thin sheen of dust upon it.
He carefully lifted a few of the leaves that had fallen on the table, tossing them to the side, as if picking webs from a museum exhibit.
Her father’s handwriting on the paper. Had he kept it like this?
“We would work here for hours,” said the King, almost reverentially, “he on his arcane projects, me on my courtly studies.”
She could not imagine it, though this time she kept the disbelief from her face. Curiosity, however, got the better of her judgement, “how did you meet?”
A wide smile graced his face, the lines deepening as his eyes came alive, “many, many years ago. Some dull ball or other. I was escaping my duties as the newly crowned king, and he was hiding in the conservatory with a pilfered book from the palace’s library.”
She laughed at the image his words conjured, her surprise at having done so resulting in a soft chuckle from the king.
She could see it clearly, her father, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he sat idly shaping and reshaping the plants around him.
What she could not picture, was this man beside him. The two of them talking, laughing.
“That first night we talked of this,” he gestured to their surroundings, “of the future that we might build. A place of learning, of discovery. Where the magic of Valdyr could be used to benefit the kingdom.”
A shadow passed his face. The smile faded and thunder rumbled.
“And yet…”
He stood so still, Rosamund wondered if he had forgotten she was there. She took a step towards him, and he shook himself from whatever dark thought had crossed his mind, “here it stands. Our legacy.”
His legacy.
“Thank you for showing me it,” Rosamund brought herself to say, though a spike of irritation went through her, “and for speaking of my father. It is a wonderful gift, your majesty.”
His smile widened, “oh this is not the gift Rosamund.”
He held his arm out to her again. She had not felt at ease since stepping from the carriage, but she had at least had the comfort of the plants around her in this place.
She did not want to leave it. From the look on the King’s face, wherever they were heading next, she did not want to go.
With little other option, she stepped forward, forcing a smile to her face, and took his arm.
The King walked her towards the centre of the conservatory where a large mosaic was inlaid in the floor.
She was reminded of the very same design in the centre of the Hall of Judgement.
The mosaic that Dorian had risen from, chained and powerless.
Though this was of a different design. Nine stars surrounded Liathern.
Each star shone upon her as she held within her hands a tenth star that glowed brighter than all the rest. As the King guided them to the centre of the mosaic, Rosamund felt the ring around her neck grow warm against her flesh.
Ovidian raised his hand and she saw an identical ring on his own hand.
Glowing. Her father’s ring remained hidden.
As it grew hotter, she placed her hand over where it rested under her bodice.
The King’s ring, and the one around her neck, were interacting with the design.
Unlocking it. As with the mosaic in the Hall of Judgement, the stones began to rearrange themselves and the floor began to descend.
She found herself clinging to the King’s arm tighter.
He smiled and patted her hand, “fear not my dear, you are quite safe.”
The air grew thick with an overwhelming stench.
The conservatory above had a heady mix of florals that she was used too.
As the mosaic floor delved deeper and deeper, the scent of rot and decay grew thicker.
She wanted to cough, could feel her stomach turning, and through some willpower kept herself from showing it.
She willed herself to look merely curious as the King’s eyes rested upon her.
“There are few that have been permitted within the true Baurnhof. But as Roderic’s daughter, I thought it only right that you should see what he created,” said the King as the mosaic came to a shuddering halt.
Two thick ruby doors awaited them. Like the spire of the university they hummed with a power.
Though this power repelled her. Even as King Ovidian urged her forwards, nudging her to walk along beside him.
The doors opened of their own accord, revealing the cavernous room beyond bathed in a red glow from the many long sharp crystals that had been inlaid in it.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the raw, red light, and once they had, she had to swallow the scream that wanted to burst forth.