Chapter 20 #2
A soft chuckle leaves my lips. “Not quite. They were rather happy for some time—centuries, even. The only threats were Unseelie creatures who stepped out of line, but with their combined armies, those were easily kept at bay. As mortal settlements expanded, though, Rowan eventually found himself a mortal lover. When Elswyth found out, she nearly burned down the Redwood Court in rage and retaliation before the druids put a stop to that. Dozens of dryads lost their lives; their blackened heartwood skeletons still stand to this day, as a reminder of the chaotic temperament of Myrtle Queens.”
“Damn. What happened after she tried to burn everything down?” Maddox asks with a reverence I’m not sure I like.
“After Elswyth calmed, the two rulers decided it would be best to split their lands. He took the redwoods and southern forests. She took the myrtlewood trees and forests to the north. Neither of them—nor any of their heirs—ever took a marriage partner again. And the ancient grudge passed down the two lines, building on itself like tree rings.”
“How very Capulet and Montague.” She finishes off her nepenthe, rubbing it out on the sole of her boot. “I’m guessing that wasn’t the end of the feud, though?”
The way she says this sounds like she already knows the answer. “No, far from it. Especially when the mortal rush for gold happened and both of our forestlands were being cut down by loggers supplying all the mining.”
“You would think that would unite you instead of divide you…common mortal enemy and all.”
“Yes, well. After Rowan, the new king—Heath Albion Sempervirens—put effort into preserving as much of the redwoods as possible, rather than working to protect Sylveris as a whole. He enlisted the help of the druids to spread the wards around our kingdom as far as the Sovereign Tree could manage, protecting our lands from further deforestation. Unfortunately, that didn’t quite cover the Myrtlewoods, who were left to defend their forests on their own.
The Myrtle Queen at the time, Soleil Umbellularia, was furious, and sent hordes of her army to attack the redwood forests, as they weren’t warded against fellow dryads.
Both King Heath and Queen Soleil were killed in the Great Blight. ”
Maddox frowns. “The Great Blight? Like an illness?”
“A self-imposed illness.” I laugh humorlessly.
I’m not the most well-versed in our history, but what I have heard of it only made me wish to know less.
“Dryad armies killing dryad armies when the mortals were taking our lands out in droves. And yet, even with this, it seems we’ve learned rather little from our past.”
Seemingly lost in thought, Maddox simply says, “Yeah, mortals don’t learn from our past either…But you have a peace treaty now, don’t you? The Myrtlewood and the Redwood?”
“Took a minute, yes, but eventually Amanita’s wrath over the loss of her sister Soleil was calmed by Cyperus’s promise to send Redwood sentries to watch over her lands as long as she kept the peace.
They signed the peace agreement during the Solstice, which is why we now have the yearly celebration. ”
A line forms between Maddox’s brows. “Interesting…”
“What’s interesting?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. Anyway. Even with all of that dryad drama, I still think that’s a ridiculous reason not to have a partner.”
“We can have partners. We just can’t marry them.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Why don’t you have one, then?”
Avoiding the question, I reach inside my cloak, retrieving the gift and holding it out to her. “I have a gift for you.”
Smooth.
“Oh?” Maddox takes it from me, cradling the thin, silver-wrapped box in her lap. “You’re a bit late, but I’ll accept it.”
“Late for what?”
“My birthday.”
“Is that…something mortals get gifts for?”
She traces her finger along the edge of the silver paper. “Some mortals do. This year I was given a layoff and an eviction. But we can’t all be royalty, I suppose.”
Bitterness joins the taste of nepenthe on my tongue. “You think because I’m a royal, my life is filled with only lovely things?”
“Well, I met you at an extravagant masquerade ball. And every day since, you’ve visited me at Magesté, drinking wine and chatting and relaxing.
Smoking nepenthe. I’m sure there are unlovely things in your life, but I’ve yet to see any I would consider suffocating.
” Our eyes connect, and I try to dampen the flame burning in my glare, but I don’t think it works.
I can’t blame her for thinking I’m nothing more than a spoiled king without a care in the world.
That’s all I’ve shown her. Behind me, I can practically hear Tam’s screaming thoughts.
I should say something to show her who I really am, open myself up, be vulnerable.
But when she taught me how to lock myself down in this imaginary house, she forgot to show me how to get out.
“Are you going to open it?”
Maddox looks down at the gift, almost as if she forgot it was there.
Digging her nails into the wrapping, she tears the paper away in one fell swoop to reveal the box beneath.
A smile illuminates her features at first, but when she pries open the lid, they freeze and then fall. “Is this…a dagger holster?”
“And a weapons belt. I noticed yours was just tied on with a flimsy cord and thought you might like something a bit more secure.”
Maddox traces a thumb down the leaf and vine etching along the ivory leather, fingering the buckles on the belt. There’s something almost forlorn in her expression.
Stomach sinking, I reach for the gift. “If you don’t like it, I can—”
She stops my hand with hers, fingers wrapping around, offering reassuring pressure. My hand comes to rest at her thigh. “No.” There’s an odd hollowness to her words. “It’s perfect.”
And somehow, it seems as though I’ve taken a step forward and back at the same time.