Chapter 5 The Zodiac Gardens #2
“Yes, my sister and I are from Bratzia!” the bold girl said from the front row, raising her voice to a very unladylike level.
“In Bratzia, we have birthstones instead of birthflowers, and we count the months differently. We go by the lunar calendar, and we have thirteen months in our lunar year, not twelve.”
“Oh! I see!” one of the ladies responded, embarrassed. “Thank you for telling us! My friend and I didn’t realize . . . .”
“What a delight,” another girl drawled.
The ladies stirred around her. Curious, Celise craned her neck, but she couldn’t catch a glimpse of the Bratzian girl who had spoken.
The attendant continued her tour. She led the group of women under a trellis covered in vining lumenbloom. In a cheerful voice, she read off her pamphlet:
“How is that possible?” a lady asked.
“We don’t entirely know,” the guide explained with a practiced voice, as though she had prepared for the question.
“The meteor that created the Abyss changed many things about our planet. Not only did it trigger the evolution of mana channelers and daemons, but its alien dust changed the flora and fauna as well.”
"Oh, how marvelous!” another girl exclaimed. “I want to plant some in my garden back home!”
As the ladies passed under the trellis, the trumpet-shaped flowers pulsed with a strong light, similar to flickering candles.
Celise watched the flowers glow—she had seen lumenbloom before on a trellis near the market in Sultan, a small village on Dhastel lands.
As far as Celise knew, all of the Forsynthian elite were Skytouched to some degree.
These lumenblooms were very bright, their glow visible even in full daylight, with so many gifted noblewomen in the gardens.
She was the last one to pass under the trellis. When she brushed her fingers across their soft petals, the flowers dimmed. It was very obvious. The blooms seemed to curl inward and shrink away.
Celise sucked in a quick breath. She pulled back her hand as though stung.
Just another reminder of what she lacked.
Feeling self-conscious, she quickly passed under the trellis. She glanced around, hoping no one had noticed, but the group of ladies was already far ahead. She hurried to rejoin them.
Next, the guide led them to a bed of Ashfeather Bloom. This flower was much taller than the glowbells. Its fluffy, golden leaves glimmered like embers, and lacy white blossoms floated at the ends of long, delicate stalks.
The attendant continued to read from her pamphlet: “Ashfeather Bloom is associated with the month of Duskwane, the first month of Hallowsin: the season of harvest, mist and reflection. Today just so happens to be the tenth day of Duskwane and Lord Elias Blackwood’s birthday. So this would be his birthflower.”
The ladies all pressed forward, eager to learn more about the duke.
Katrina’s voice carried from the front of the crowd: “If His Grace was born in Duskwane, does that mean he is the Lantern zodiac?”
“Yes, that is correct!” the servant said with a big smile. “His Grace is, indeed, the Lantern.”
“What does The Lantern characterize?” another lady asked.
“Giftedness. Someone who is very talented,” the guide said, but the ladies were not satisfied.
“It also means wisdom and insight,” another girl added.
“Wasn’t that the Veil, not the Lantern? The Veil zodiac is all about looking inward, while the Lantern is about seeing beyond. . ."
“It means someone who prefers the nighttime hours. A night owl!” Heather chimed in. The rest of the ladies dissolved into speculation. High-pitched voices filled the air.
The servant spoke a bit louder, trying to be heard above the chattering crowd:
“Well, that’s unpleasant,” Celise said under her breath. Her eyes traveled over the garden bed. Was a body buried under all of those morbid flowers? Perhaps the zodiac gardens were not as innocent and lovely as they appeared.
She smirked privately at her own dark humor.
Then, as the group huddled closer to the Ashfeather Bloom, a strange sight caught her eye.
A garden gate, very old and rusty, was half-buried under a towering camellia bush.
Celise wasn’t sure why her eyes were drawn to the odd gate. It lurked in the shade of a black maple tree, perhaps a dozen yards from their small group. It seemed suspicious.
Celise extracted herself from the flock of ladies and walked into the shade of a black maple.
She frowned as she approached the gate. It didn’t fit the garden’s immaculate design at all.
In comparison to the pristine Zodiac Gardens, this corner seemed spitefully ignored, as though whatever lay beyond the weathered gate was meant to remain hidden and forgotten.
Celise felt an unexpected yearning nip at her heels. She wanted to explore. She found herself creeping through the mountainous camellia bush, her curiosity piqued.
The gate's iron bars were bound shut with a heavy chain.
A wooden sign, faded and decayed, hung from the stone archway above the gate.
It read, “No Trespassing.” Still, she peered through the bars.
A dreary shroud of mist covered the world beyond.
How mist could gather beyond the wall on a sunny day was a mystery.
Celise sensed a peculiar chill in the air, more than just the shade of the maple tree.
“Celise!” a voice called from behind her, startling her.
She turned. “Oh!”
Heather approached down the moss-covered path. Celise quickly abandoned the mysterious gate, feeling guilty.
“Stay close to us! Don’t forget what Mother said,” Heather warned her. “You’re not to wander off!”
“I wasn’t,” Celise said, her hands gripping her skirt.
Her half-sister nodded and looked at her apprehensively. Celise didn’t know what to expect from the youngest Dhastel daughter. Heather was quieter than Katrina and less abrasive, though she seemed inseparable from her older sister.
“What’s your birthflower?” Heather asked.
Celise was surprised by the question.
At her startled look, Heather shrugged. “I’ve read a lot of zodiac books. I was just wondering.”
“I was born in Stargrave,” Celise said. “So my zodiac is The Star.”
“That’s the last month of the year. That means your flower is the Starlight Dahlia,” Heather said helpfully.
“I haven’t seen any in the gardens yet. We probably won’t be able to recognize one.
The Starlight Dahlia only blooms under a clear night sky with plenty of starlight. That’s how it got its name.”
“Aren’t children born in Stargrave considered bad luck?” Katrina pointed out, walking across the courtyard to join them. Apparently she had grown tired of the Ashfeather Blooms and Elias Blackwood’s zodiac sign. “That’s so predictable. Everything about you is a bad omen.”
“That’s not true.” Trying to be factual, Celise pointed out, “Because Stargrave is the coldest and most isolating month of the year, it has the highest infant mortality rates. But that doesn’t mean I have any particular bad luck.”
Katrina snorted. “I think you’re rife with it.
” Then, with a raised chin, the young heiress declared, “I was born in the month of Sungilt at the beginning of Ardoursol, so that makes me a Wolf.” By her stance, she obviously felt her constellation was the best of all.
“The Wolf’s character is one of grace and power, and my flower is the Abyssal Rose. ”
Celise felt suddenly ill.
The Abyssal Rose?
Like Mordwen’s fortune?
“It’s the most beautiful flower,” Katrina bragged. “Look, there’s a bed over there!”
Celise’s eyes followed her half-sister’s hand to a bushel of red blooms further up the path.
Heather rushed ahead, coming to pause in front of a sprawling mound of roses.
The blooms were about the size of teacups, the petals darker close to the stem, with varying shades of black and violet opening outward into bright crimson tips.
The flower was both wicked and stunning, not unlike a poisonous snake.
“The Abyssal Rose,” Celise echoed under her breath. “Lovely.”
“It’s superior to the other flowers,” Katrina said, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder. Then she read off the sign at the foot of the garden bed:
Katrina gloated, “I’m definitely resilient—I have the gold medals to prove it!”
Celise remained quiet. She studied the rose thoughtfully. She thought the plant looked rather threatening, its blossoms tipped with bloody crimson, its thorns long and curved. Sharp and beautiful all at once. Just like Katrina.
Unable to help herself, Celise wondered if Katrina might be the girl to change the fate of the kingdom. Was she destined to become the duchess of Gravenmere?
Perhaps Mordwen’s prophecy would come true.
Celise felt sick to her stomach again. Not that she envied her sister—the Mad Dog duke sounded like a turbulent fellow—but she worried the kingdom’s fate was about to take a bad turn.
Heather pointed out, “It says the Abyssal Rose is a sigil of the Daemonguard, so it must be a sign, Katrina! You’re meant to catch Lord Elias’s eye at the ball!”
Katrina smirked. “I certainly plan to.”
She looked as confident and self-assured as the roses.