Page 4
Story: What Blooms from Death
I avoided the party for a little longer, sneaking my way toward my room first. Once there, I changed quickly out of my soiled clothing, opting for a sleeveless, simple gown in my favorite color—a rusted shade of orange—mostly because it was easy to slip on and secure without the help of any servants.
I picked stray flower petals and bits of mud from my long, dark tresses, redid the braids keeping the unruly locks away from my face, and assessed myself in the mirror.
Good enough.
Yet I lingered, noticing how dark the markings on my arms still were. They had not fully settled since Aleksander’s hand had brushed my skin; occasionally they twitched, the darkness rippling like strands of silk ribbons caught in a breeze.
The markings—and my magic—were an ill-kept secret within this palace. Most knew about them at this point, because although I could make them disappear completely if I concentrated hard enough, burying them beneath my skin never lasted long before the restless itch to let them out again overcame me. Death was everywhere in this world, after all, in all its different forms, and my magic called to the different morbid energies.
Oftentimes, it was safer to let the darkness breathe. That’s why I’d been hiding in that corner with the gravestones—because I’d desperately needed tobreathe.
I needed to be under control for this party.
“Iamunder control,” I told my reflection.
Phantom gave a concerned yip, drawing my attention. I knelt before him, straightening his jeweled collar.
“Are we ready for this, you think?” I asked, running my fingers through his silky fur.
He let out a happier bark before twirling in a circle.
I smiled, wondering if the King of Light was a dog lover—and then promptly decided that I didn’t care; Phantom was coming with me to Elarith, either way.
“Come on, then,” I said, standing and turning for the door. “Let’s get it over with.”
I went to the door and, with stiffened resolve, pulled it open—
And found my mother standing on the other side, hand outstretched toward the handle. She’d clearly had no intention of knocking.
We stared at one another.
The queen spoke first, per usual. “Nova, that isn’t the dress we agreed—”
“The other one is dirty.”
My mother pursed her lips.
“Ah, butthisone looks splendid on her, doesn’t it?” my father offered, appearing behind his wife. He quickly stepped between me and her critical gaze—just as he’d been doing for the past eighteen years. “The color brings out her eyes.”
The queen breathed in deeply through her nose several times before managing a smile. “I suppose it does,” she agreed with a soft sigh, her gaze flicking up to mine.
Our bright turquoise eyes were one of the few things we had in common—one of the few things I had in common with either of my parents’ appearances. As she stared into them, maybe she was reminded of this—that I was, in fact, her daughter. Maybe that was why she gave me a quick embrace before hurrying me on down the hall.
Phantom raced ahead, nose lifted into the air, eagerly following the smell of the feast awaiting us.
“We’ve been ready to announce you for the past half hour,” my mother said as we practically jogged down the portrait-lined corridor. “Everyone is eager to see you.”
I doubted this last part, but didn’t say so; I merely nodded along as she launched into yet another recap of the events she had planned for the evening, and how they would now have to shift due to my lateness.
My father rescued me again as we came to the massive double-doors of the banquet hall, insisting he wanted to escort me inside himself. My mother let me go without a fuss, her attention catching on a servant who was sorting silverware in a way that was apparentlyall wrong!
“She means well,” my father said, wincing a bit as we watched her hurry off and fix her frantic energy on the poor servant.
“I know.”
He veered away from the banquet hall and beckoned me to follow, pulling a small, wrapped box from the inside pocket of his waistcoat once we were out of Mother’s sight.
Inside the gift box, I found a bracelet with beads painted in almost the exact shade of my eyes. A few had symbols painted on them as well, drawn with precise, painstakingly neat brushstrokes.
I picked stray flower petals and bits of mud from my long, dark tresses, redid the braids keeping the unruly locks away from my face, and assessed myself in the mirror.
Good enough.
Yet I lingered, noticing how dark the markings on my arms still were. They had not fully settled since Aleksander’s hand had brushed my skin; occasionally they twitched, the darkness rippling like strands of silk ribbons caught in a breeze.
The markings—and my magic—were an ill-kept secret within this palace. Most knew about them at this point, because although I could make them disappear completely if I concentrated hard enough, burying them beneath my skin never lasted long before the restless itch to let them out again overcame me. Death was everywhere in this world, after all, in all its different forms, and my magic called to the different morbid energies.
Oftentimes, it was safer to let the darkness breathe. That’s why I’d been hiding in that corner with the gravestones—because I’d desperately needed tobreathe.
I needed to be under control for this party.
“Iamunder control,” I told my reflection.
Phantom gave a concerned yip, drawing my attention. I knelt before him, straightening his jeweled collar.
“Are we ready for this, you think?” I asked, running my fingers through his silky fur.
He let out a happier bark before twirling in a circle.
I smiled, wondering if the King of Light was a dog lover—and then promptly decided that I didn’t care; Phantom was coming with me to Elarith, either way.
“Come on, then,” I said, standing and turning for the door. “Let’s get it over with.”
I went to the door and, with stiffened resolve, pulled it open—
And found my mother standing on the other side, hand outstretched toward the handle. She’d clearly had no intention of knocking.
We stared at one another.
The queen spoke first, per usual. “Nova, that isn’t the dress we agreed—”
“The other one is dirty.”
My mother pursed her lips.
“Ah, butthisone looks splendid on her, doesn’t it?” my father offered, appearing behind his wife. He quickly stepped between me and her critical gaze—just as he’d been doing for the past eighteen years. “The color brings out her eyes.”
The queen breathed in deeply through her nose several times before managing a smile. “I suppose it does,” she agreed with a soft sigh, her gaze flicking up to mine.
Our bright turquoise eyes were one of the few things we had in common—one of the few things I had in common with either of my parents’ appearances. As she stared into them, maybe she was reminded of this—that I was, in fact, her daughter. Maybe that was why she gave me a quick embrace before hurrying me on down the hall.
Phantom raced ahead, nose lifted into the air, eagerly following the smell of the feast awaiting us.
“We’ve been ready to announce you for the past half hour,” my mother said as we practically jogged down the portrait-lined corridor. “Everyone is eager to see you.”
I doubted this last part, but didn’t say so; I merely nodded along as she launched into yet another recap of the events she had planned for the evening, and how they would now have to shift due to my lateness.
My father rescued me again as we came to the massive double-doors of the banquet hall, insisting he wanted to escort me inside himself. My mother let me go without a fuss, her attention catching on a servant who was sorting silverware in a way that was apparentlyall wrong!
“She means well,” my father said, wincing a bit as we watched her hurry off and fix her frantic energy on the poor servant.
“I know.”
He veered away from the banquet hall and beckoned me to follow, pulling a small, wrapped box from the inside pocket of his waistcoat once we were out of Mother’s sight.
Inside the gift box, I found a bracelet with beads painted in almost the exact shade of my eyes. A few had symbols painted on them as well, drawn with precise, painstakingly neat brushstrokes.
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