Chapter 20 The Garden
The Garden
Elizabeth trudged back into the castle, soaked to the bone. The sky had opened up the moment she left Veridas, as if the weather itself had conspired against her.
Too exhausted to protest, she let Fiza fuss and fret, massaging oils into her hair and applying products to her face while Elizabeth soaked in a bath.
She lazed about in the warm water and took her time getting out.
She didn’t care about being late for dinner—half the time Caspian wasn’t even there.
In the end, she stood dressed in a sweeping gown of deep plum, with her hair pulled back into an elegant knot at the base of her skull.
When Fiza finished, Elizabeth took a moment to truly look at herself in the mirror.
Her time in the north had changed her. Her hair had darkened from burnished gold to honey brown, and her skin had become pale here, despite her morning rides outside.
Dark circles shadowed her eyes that had never been there before—she looked older, wearier than her years now.
Being away from her mother who constantly griped at her to mind what she ate and stay slim, she had gained weight. Her body looked healthier and fuller now. Her mother would have hated the change, but she liked it—she no longer looked so innocent and breakable.
Fiza draped sparkling onyx jewels at her throat and wrists—a final touch that completed the transformation. She fingered the dark stones. She looked like the mistress of a dark lord, which she supposed was exactly what Fiza had intended.
She looked at Fiza, who was looking back at her with a look of friendship and care. Suddenly, she felt a familiar tingling sensation behind her eyes, and the world shifted out from under her. Before she could stop it, she slipped into Fiza’s mind.
Hmm ... Fiza fretted. Would the sapphire necklace have looked better? What colour tunic will Master Caspian be wearing? Lady Elizabeth is so good and kind to me, much kinder than the last one. It is almost like we are friends.
Elizabeth came to herself with a jolt and a gasp.
She looked at Fiza, smiling warmly. Perhaps the angel had given her this gift so that she might tell who meant her harm and who did not.
Elizabeth looked at the demon and said, “Thank you for all you do, Fiza. I appreciate you.”
Fiza’s brow furrowed for a moment and then smoothed out. “Not at all, my lady.”
When Fiza was satisfied with her appearance, Elizabeth descended the stairs and entered the great hall. To her dismay, Caspian was there tonight, along with Finnigan and Asmodeus.
“Hello, Caspian. Hello, Finnigan,” she said quietly, curtseying and taking her place.
She fixed her attention on her meal and ignored her dining partners. A sense of unease gathered in her stomach as Caspian stared at her unblinkingly while she cut a piece of roast duck, delicately spearing it with her fork.
“We almost missed you, Elizabeth. We were just about to retire for the evening,” Caspian drawled. “How busy you’ve been lately. One might think you are hungry for more … adventures.”
She swallowed and murmured she had no wish for any more adventures. Caspian nodded, as if he had expected nothing less, and returned to brooding in silence, which amused her a little. He didn’t know half of what she had been up to, and she wanted to keep it that way.
Caspian looked tired too. She noted his eyes housed large shadows underneath them tonight, worse than her own.
She watched him grasp his goblet and bring it to his lips. Her eyes caught on the veins that travelled up the back of his hand. His strong looking fingers.
Despite the red contents of the goblet and what he was, Elizabeth pressed her lips together and found herself wondering what a demon would be like as a lover. If they liked the same things as a regular man, or if their desires ran … darker.
Caspian started, his eyes snapping to hers.
Embarrassed to have been caught staring, she quickly looked down. She had not been thinking about him like that.
She glanced up through lowered lashes and saw Caspian staring at her, his chin lowered, and lips ticked up in the corners—like he knew exactly what traitorous thoughts were running through her mind.
At least that answered the question of whether demons could read minds. She wondered whether he always read her thoughts when he was near her, or whether he rarely did, thinking her too boring to bother.
Caspian returned to his conversation with Asmodeus, ignoring her for the rest of the meal.
The latter, then.
Elizabeth finished her plate in silence and considered the implications.
It was a violating thought, not to be safe in her own mind.
She pursed her lips. Perhaps he only caught flashes of what she was thinking if she was looking directly at him.
She would have to experiment to see if she could find a way to stop him from reading her thoughts as easily as she read a book.
She rose from the table, mumbling an excuse to leave.
Caspian’s gaze lifted and slid up and down her frame.
“Er. Enjoy your evening, gentlemen,” she said quickly, not wanting such attention, and fled the hall.
Closing the door to her chambers, she wrinkled her nose.
She had not been thinking about a demon—one who was quite literally drinking a goblet of human blood. Someone had met their end to sate his hunger tonight. Thinking of him as any adjective other than vile felt like a betrayal to every person in Asteria.
Pacing did nothing to erase the image of him smirking at her like he wanted to eat her for dinner.
She cast around for something to distract herself with, her eyes landing on a newly arrived letter, sitting on her writing desk.
The familiar handwriting grabbed her attention, and she eagerly tore it open.
She read the lines several times, memorizing them. Her dress hissed across the floor as she quickly strode to the fireplace and placed the letter over the flame. The fire devoured the parchment, until nothing remained of the elegant script.
Donning a cloak, she went for a walk in the gardens.
Not even a few steps outside, she felt someone—something—watching her and looked up.
A figure with enormous wings stood on the balcony of the second-highest tower. The demon from the library.
She raised a hand in greeting, as if to say, I remember you.
The monster jumped into the sky, soaring away from the castle with furious pumps of its inky black wings. She watched its progress across the sky until it ducked behind a cloud and passed from sight.
***
Later, Elizabeth was in the library reading when she noticed a tendril of shadow snake out from between the books and swirl upwards in the air, like a wisp of smoke.
She rose to peer at it, wondering where it had come from.
Her breath caught as the wisp of darkness snaked through the air, and vanished, leaving no trace that it was ever there.
A desk nearby looked disturbed, with a drawer left slightly ajar. Elizabeth’s heartbeat quickened as she approached. Someone had been here recently.
The gargoyle-shaped handle was carved into a permanent snarl. She sat gingerly on the chair, tracing a finger along the strange symbols covering the desk’s surface—whorls and marks that seemed to shift in the candlelight.
Curiously, she opened the drawer. No quills or parchment lay within, just a coin and a metal stamp nestled in black velvet.
She had never seen a coin like this one before. All the kingdoms in Asteria used the same gold, silver, and copper nobles. How strange.
She picked it up and turned it in her fingers. The coin was surprisingly heavy, with a roaring dragon pressed on one side, and a pentacle on the other—a five-pointed star within a circle, the device of demons and dark magic.
The stamp in the drawer bore an even stranger sigil: a pentagram with crescent moons tucked between each point of the star, each end of the star extending outwards like arrows. Was this Caspian’s house sigil? Or something more sinister? Like some kind of secret organization?
Elizabeth replaced the items in the drawer, taking care to place them exactly how she had found them, and stepped back to survey the library.
Where did the wisps of shadow keep coming from?
She ran her fingers over the legs and the underside of the writing desk, feeling for some sort of catch or hidden device that might hold answers, but there was nothing.
Taking a few steps back, she narrowed her eyes and looked around the shelves by the desk, but saw nothing else that seemed out of the ordinary.
Before she could investigate further, she turned and came face to face with Caspian. She gasped in surprise.
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
She straightened, reminding herself that she had done nothing wrong.
Pretty, but extraordinarily simple. Shame she’s not more clever, or I might have been genuinely interested. His previous thoughts rang in her ears, impossible to forget.
She forced her lips to curve upwards.
“You’ve hardly said a word to me lately,” he said darkly, his teeth still tinged with red from his evening beverage.
Why would she vie for his attention when his heart was nothing but an empty husk? His nearness did nothing but set her on edge.
Murderer.
Choosing her words with care, she said, “I’m often quiet. It’s not meant as an insult.”
“I see.” His expression soured.
“And you’ve hardly spoken to me since I’ve arrived,” she couldn’t help but say.
“I wasn’t aware you’d been expecting me to seek you out to talk and spend time together.
” She smiled politely and picked up her book from where she had set it down on her reading chair. “I assure you, everything is fine.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “As long as you’re certain nothing is … troubling you.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” She smiled reassuringly, edging closer to the door.
He lifted a hand, as if to stop her. “Maybe we could take a turn about the gardens tonight? To spend some time together?”