Chapter 30 - Vipers Venom
I ran my fingertips along the spines of the books, not even knowing what I was looking for.
Brietta wanted to read as many books as possible to look for any historical accounts that contradicted what Ashmore had fed us. She and Annalisa were holed up in the main library, but they sent me to the conservatory to investigate. Annalisa had said the conservatory was where the Hytons put all the books they did not care about preserving and maybe I would find a hidden treasure.
I doubted any treasure was in the conservatory, but I needed something to do until nightfall. I had needles under my skin as I fought the urge to try to access Derrick’s mind again, but I had to wait for him to fall asleep for the best chance.
I had to slay the monster of Midnight’s nightmares if I had any hope of getting control of Derrick’s mind.
I scanned the spines for anything remotely interesting when a sad little pull tugged on my heart. I had hidden behind that same bookshelf on Riyan and I’s wedding night.
What would our eight days together have been like had I not wasted that first night being afraid of him? He might have ended the lives of countless men, but he would have never hurt me.
I swallowed my guilt and looked around. Mother had helped me out of my Presentation dress that night but we abandoned it since Riyan’s blood had stained it during the marriage ceremony. Where did it even go? A few ambitious maids had probably taken the dress and picked all the pearls off.
What a fortuitous treasure for them—those pearls were the last of the House of Ravenwood’s wealth. I hoped they at least bought some good bread with their find.
A loud clipping noise echoed through the room followed by the rustle of leaves. Who else was in the conservatory?
I silently peered around the bookshelf. Mother stood at the edge of the curved line of plant boxes in front of the large sunny windows. She had her back to me, fussing with the sharp leaves of some plant.
I did not want to face my mother after stepping into her old role. I would rather just live my days parallel with hers until the full moon.
“You knew I was going to find you eventually.” Mother said, not even turning around. “Are you brave enough to speak with me yet?”
Damn it, Mother!
Reluctantly, I stepped out from behind the bookshelf. The invisible pull of a lifetime as an obedient daughter guided my footsteps over to the plants.
I had almost forgotten what my mother looked like without her dark, seductive makeup. She wore her hair swept up and held in place with a silver comb. Her sleeves were rolled above her elbows and her black bodice was embroidered with red poisonous mushrooms.
“ Not poisonous, ” her gentle scold echoed in my memory. “ Harmless if left alone. ”
I stood next to her, eyeing the sweat that beaded on her temples and the flush of her cheeks from working in the sunlight.
She held her shears at the base of a green leaf. “We have much to talk about.”
Clip.
Mother held the severed leaf out to me. “Here.”
I wrinkled my nose but cautiously wrapped my fingers around the turgid leaf. The skin of the leaf was smooth like leather, but the inside was squishy like flesh. The severed edge wept with a clear nectar that smelled sweet and somehow familiar.
Mother clipped another leaf and placed it in her wicker basket. “Selene succulent. But I assume you have a burning curiosity for the more powerful plants?”
Not really. I never gave much thought to herbalism, but I was never foolish enough to reject information. “Knowing one’s enemy is better than being in the dark.”
She looked at me over her shoulder. “The dark is the best place to be when your enemies shine in the light.”
My eyes darted from the leaves in her basket to her wicked smile. How had I never seen it before?
“You are the Viper,” I said. “ You made all the potions.”
Her mouth formed a fine line. “Like I said…we do what we can to survive.”
She walked a few paces until she stood in front of a plant with heart-shaped leaves with thick stems. I followed her, eyeing the beautiful fuchsia flowers that grew in small clusters at the top.
“For example,” Mother tapped on one of the shining leaves with the tip of her shears. “When the Duchess came to me needing to make an heir, I offered her a mixture from the milk of the Venus heart. That secret granted me access to the Hytons’ inner circle…but I never thought my little potion would create a high demand.”
My stomach twisted into a knot—she invented Cupid’s Blood. The hazy memory, the blood-speckled thighs, and the violet sickness all came from her hands. She ruined my chances at being Duchess. She had a hand in the invasion of my body. My own damn mother.
My nails bit into the leaf. “Then you could have made it wrong. You could have made it less effective.”
“I could have. Once.” The wicker handle of the basket crinkled in her grip as she looked at the pink flowers. “If I made the poison, I controlled what was in it. I knew the smell. The taste. The way it changed the way wine sloshes around the goblet. That knowledge was power. Your father never faced the axe for high treason because Anders needed me.”
What she had done was disgusting…but I was not sure if I could blame her. Her wrists were bound the moment my father inked that agreement with Duke Hyton. Crafting potions might have been the only back door of that horrible deal.
Ravenwoods survive, she had always told me. Was that not all she had done?
Was that not all I had done?
I loosened my grip. “So that is why you were the Duke’s mistress. It was just a cover for potion making.”
A forlorn smile grew on her face as she eyed the pink petals. “No, though Anders did believe having the Viper in his bed made the outside world much less frightening.”
I nearly retched.
She lifted one of the leaves of the Venus heart. “Get a closer look, these little ones like to hide in the shade.”
I leaned over and spied a small plant with jagged, spiked leaves and black flowers like fangs shooting out of its bulbous top.
“Thornebow thistle,” Mother said in a dark voice. “The nectar from this creates the deadliest poison known to man. Normally people poison their victims over time, little by little. Once there is enough poison in the body, the victim’s blood turns black, the muscles spasm out of control, and they die within minutes.”
My hand crawled to the side of my bodice, right over where my wound had been. My eyes danced from thistle to thistle as my blood ran cold.
That was what had poisoned me on Nordingaard.
But how? Erik and Endre certainly would not have poisoned me, Ganora would not have worked with anything like poison with how much power she wielded, and Daigen needed me and would have never risked my life.
So where had it come from? Who could have even gotten the Thornebow thistle into my body while I was sitting on Riyan’s shoulder more than ten feet in the air?
And that dangerous little plant was just sitting in the middle of the palace conservatory where anyone could have access to it.
My mouth was almost too dry to speak. “Why grow it at all? If you destroy it, it cannot poison anyone.”
“A viper needs her venom.” She picked up her basket. “But now that you mention it, being the Duke’s mistress was an excellent cover for my potion making. No one thinks a whore can be good at anything.”
She turned and walked toward the bookshelves. Mother was being odd, as usual, but maybe she could help me on my original quest for knowledge. “I am looking for a book for Brietta—something enlightening.”
Mother reached up and grabbed a blue book that read “ Secrets of Alastar the Wise ” on the spine. “How about this one?”
She tugged on the book and a loud click rang in my ears. Mother pushed the bookcase open like a door. An earthy smell wafted out of the dark space behind the bookcase.
She stepped through the narrow opening and I followed her. Inside was a small room lit only by a narrow window with stained glass panes of purple thistles. Bunches of dried herbs hung upside-down from the ceiling. Glass tinctures lined the wooden shelves on the walls.
Mother set her basket on a work table and laid one of the leaves in front of her. She used a small rolling pin to flatten the succulent leaf and squeeze the gooey nectar out.
“Close the door, Serafina,” she grunted as she rolled.
I gently pushed the bookcase closed. The herb-filled room darkened but felt somehow safer.
Mother’s arms shook as she rolled the pin. “Did Freya tell you why Anders sent all the sons of Bloodstone and Ravenwood to fight the giants seven years ago?”
I swallowed. “To show the Dukedom he was in control.”
“No.” Mother chuckled darkly as she scooped up the nectar and put it in a mortar. “Because there was a certain Bloodstone son he wanted dead.”
Riyan was fifteen during that battle. Anders only sent a dozen soldiers to fight the giants while thousands of Bloodstone and Ravenwood boys died.
I knew Anders would have done anything to ensure his line of succession did not have competition, but I never thought he would have massacred thousands of his own people—thousands of children.
Mother held out her hand and I shakily gave her the leaf.
“He wanted to get rid of the Hyton heir that badly?” I asked.
She rolled the life out of the new leaf. “Ever since he was born. Nikkolas kept him safe in Bloodstone Fortress, then Ragnar kept him under lock-and-key at the military academy. The only way Anders could get him out of the academy was to send him to war, something his General could not refuse. Anders did not want his brother to suspect that he wanted his son dead, so all the Bloodstone and Ravenwood sons went up the mountain for plausible deniability.”
Her voice dropped and became more hollow than the husk of the leaf. “It was a failed assassination attempt that murdered my boys.”
My mouth went dry. I could not shatter her by telling her that her precious sons were alive and…I had failed to turn them back into men.
But why was Mother telling me all this? Why was she confessing…?
My heart stopped. My voice was soft as a suspicion turned into a question. “Anders did not fall off his balcony, did he?”
Mother’s face revealed nothing as she scooped the nectar into the mortar again. “He had pushed me for so many years, but when I saw him poison you…it was time I finally pushed back.”
I pictured it clearly in my mind—terrified Hyton Blue eyes with starry robes rippling in the night as Mother shoved Anders over the balcony railing.
And that meant she killed Freya too.
My throat tightened. “Freya did not deserve—!”
“Freya knew.” She did not even look up. “After I undressed you on Selection Night, I met with her in secret and told her our plan. Anders would die before the next full moon. All the blood bonds would be sealed so the line of succession would be secure—”
“Our plan? Who are you talking about?”
Mother added a few drops from a tincture into the mortar. “Ragnar’s allegiance is to his House. He was not going to let his brother destroy it.”
The irony of the wielder of Traitor’s Bane plotting to murder his Duke was chilling, but Anders sent Riyan to die. I would not have acted any differently if someone tried to hurt my son.
My hands crept over my bodice and rested over my lower abdomen. Without a blood bond, would I ever have a son? My chest ached at the thought of never having children, but without Riyan—
Mother’s hands suddenly spasmed and her stirring stick clattered the floor. Her eyes widened as she grabbed her wrist. “Oh…damn my old age!”
I rolled my eyes. Mother had not even reached fifty years. Why was she being so dramatic?
“Here,” I said as I picked up the stick.
She sheepishly looked down and massaged her wrist. “Could you help your geriatric mother? The mixture just needs to stir for another five minutes.”
I was already taking up her old role as the Duke’s mistress, did she want me to replace her as the Viper too?
I might have been a sorceress, but Mother had mastered the real magic of being pathetic enough to manipulate me. I began slowly stirring the clear, syrupy potion in the mortar.
Before I could ask what the potion even was, Mother cleared her throat. “I did not regale my sordid history for mere entertainment. I-I made a promise, and I need you to help me keep it.”
I paused my stirring. I had never heard Mother’s voice break before.
I looked over my shoulder into her shining emerald eyes. The tip of her nose was pink—she was barely holding back tears. “Freya agreed to let us usher in a new world without her so long as I kept Derrick safe.”
I held my breath. Freya…gave her life for her dream of liberation?
Mother stepped forward until she was close enough to grip the edge of the work table. “I know I have asked so much of you, but if you do nothing else in life, protect that sweet boy. I owe Freya. We owe Freya for what she sacrificed.”
I came to the palace to save Riyan’s life. I only took on Brietta’s dream of reformation because I thought it would free Fraleigh, but now Mother was asking me to shoulder yet another burden? For Freya?
I swallowed the question I nearly asked. Mother was normally as affectionate as a table knife and just as sentimental as one. I had never seen her show so much emotion for anyone outside our House.
The way she sobbed at the funeral was not just an act put on for Anders. Maybe my mother knew what real love was after all.
I looked back down at the potion and slowly dragged the stirring stick along the edge of the mortar. “At least you had someone other than Father.”
She grabbed my wrist and forced me to face her. Her eyes were suddenly hard. “Serafina Helia, do not speak ill of him.”
I yanked my arm out of her trembling grip. “He sold you.”
“Because I asked him to. He hated it, but Ravenwood was doomed and you could not marry Derrick for another seven years—”
“But that was not fair!”
“None of this is fair!” Her voice echoed around the small potion room. “It was not fair that Freya and I could not be together after Ashmore. Nor was it fair that I could easily have boys while she choked down Cupid’s Blood desperate for a son. Or that I had your father while she was stuck with Anders.”
I folded my arms and stepped back. “Father is no prize. You have no idea how much that blood bond manipulated you—”
“Fuck the blood bond.” She hardened back into the woman I knew, but a burning passion flared behind her eyes. “I love your father because he is a good man. ”
She made no sense. “How can you pretend to love Father when you just said all that about Freya?”
Her voice softened, but her brow stayed hard. “Love is not a token that you pass from one person to another. It does not abide by the laws of time. Or logical sense. Or reality.”
She let out a breath. “It took time…but he was so good to me and to your brothers...” She looked up at me and smiled. “Erik was made from duty. Endre was made…well, because it was fun. But you, our Little Ember, were made from love.”
The herb-scented air somehow felt heavier on my shoulders. Mother’s confessions made little sense. How could she have affectionate feelings for Freya and Father at one time? How could she still respect him after he lost control of the Baronage of Ravenwood?
How could she love him just because he was a good man?
More conflicting questions screamed through my mind, but instead of letting them out, I tightened my grip on my arms and looked at my shoes. “The potion is stirred enough.”
Mother let out a tense breath and replaced me at the work table. She reached into a small pewter casket and scooped out a tiny spoonful of fine white powder. She sprinkled the powder into the mortar and combined it with the nectar inside.
I eyed the pewter casket. “What is that?”
“Crushed lethe mushrooms.” She transferred the potion into a tiny glass vial. “Or as it is known at parties, faerie dust.”
I examined the small mound of white powder inside the casket. The familiar musty smell crept into my nose and I stepped away.
Mother put a stopper on the glass vial and handed it to me. “Here, a sleeping draught for Derrick. Added a little faerie dust for pleasant dreams.”
The jar felt cold in my fingers. “He is wary of potions, you know.”
“He is familiar with my sleeping potions.” She let out a long breath but kept her mouth tight. “They are not exactly rare…Anders dosed all the wine he gave you and Sir Bloodstone. He wanted to give his son at least a couple nights of solace that you would be untouched.”
My eyes dropped to the clear potion. That was why the succulent leaf smelled familiar. I thought it was mere exhaustion when I passed out after the wedding night, or when Riyan collapsed on the cobblestones after drinking three barrels of wine, but no. It was poison again.
How many fucking times had I been poisoned? How much damage had the Viper truly done not just to me, but to everyone else in the palace?
“Did you say you needed a book for Her Excellency?” Mother asked.
The oddness of Brietta being referred to by her new title pulled me out of my thoughts. “Yes, something interesting. Preferably something written by a woman…if that is even possible.”
Mother smiled. “I will be right back.”
She pushed the back of the bookshelf and slipped into the conservatory.
Light from the sunny conservatory filled the potion room, exposing the secrets like upturning a bowl and finding a worm underneath.
I rolled the vial of sleeping draught in my fingers. Giving Derrick a sleeping draught to help him cope with his new role could be a merciful gift.
Was it not better to let someone live in a dream instead of facing the horrors of life? It was kind, it was…
My white flame lit up my chest, scorching every bit of reasoning I had behind that little glass vial.
No. Every poisoning was a violation. My body had been invaded so many times that I could never do it to someone else. Especially not Derrick.
Mother wanted me to keep Derrick safe? Fine. I would make sure no one ever poisoned him again.
Even her.
I smashed the vial on the stone floor and stormed to the work table. I held the tin of faerie dust in my hands, sending out my magic and finding only a few twinkles of tears that had been inside the living mushrooms. The dust sparkled like a tiny hill of snow. So beautiful. So pristine.
And then I lit it all on fire.