Page 123 of Where Darkness Falls

“Yes,” he says slowly.

“Are these grown anywhere in the palace?” I ask.

“Are you referring to roses that aren’t withered?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say.

He pauses for a moment, trailing a hand over the soft petals of one of the blooms. “No, the only flora I’ve seen flourish are brambles or black Dahlias. Never anything with such a lovely color,” he replies.

“So the rose he put in my hair could only have come from this balcony?” I ask.

Emyr’s shoulders stiffen as his sharp eyes assess the area. “Are you implying that he washereon your balcony?” he whispers angrily.

“Perhaps not him, but maybe Domhnall,” I reply. “If he was, then he saw this.”

His brow furrows as he rubs his chin. “Okay, so you revived the roses rather quickly,” he deadpans. “You’ve grown a variety of different genuses at the Violet Lily. What’s the harm?”

I run a hand through my hair, as I contemplate how to approach this topic with him. “Yes, but I didn’t fertilize or work with these, Emyr. I’ve only been on this balcony once, and all I did was cry and speak with you during that time,” I say.

His eyes widen as he looks around the balcony before pulling me into the furthest corner. His hands wrap around my waist once more, as his shadows descend over us.

“Do you think your tears healed them?” he asks, searching my face.

I nod. “It sounds ludicrous, but maybe,” I reply. “It isn’t logical though. I’m not a healer. My ability is starlight… It doesn’t heal. It kills, holds, destroys, burns?—”

“What if it has the capacity to heal if you desire it to do so?” he interjects.

“That’s not how it works,” I reply noncommittally.

“Are you certain?” he asks. “There’s very little knowledge about your ability. It’s rare and is said to have only been blessed to one bloodline in Malvoria—though that has never been proven as a truth. As far as its capabilities, very little is truly understood about it. What if it’s capable of more than just destruction?”

I chew on my lip in contemplation.

“Even if that were true, I couldn’t access it until my twenty-fifth year. So how could I grow such things in the shop?” I ask.

“Perhaps there was a small part of it you could access, but it was just so subtle you didn’t realize it?” Emyr theorizes. “I don’t know the answer, Rosey. I don’t even comprehend how this all works, but I do know that you can heal with your ability.”

“How?” I ask.

“Because you relieved my shoulder from the burns your starlight orb caused,” he says.

I wince. “I-I did not relieve the pain,” I say curtly.

“You did,” he encourages softly. “When you pinned me to the dome wall, its warmth spread over my wound, taking the pain away.”

My mind goes back to that moment in the dome. Emyr had been in emotional pain, but I also saw the grimace every time he lifted that shoulder. I hadn’t wished to hurt him, but I was so furious with him. I knew that if I could just coax it out of him, he’d speak about what’s bothering him. When I pinned him with my starlight, I thought?—

An audible gasp escapes me. “I was thinking about the fact that I wanted to ease your pain,” I murmur. “What if that triggered the healing properties of my ability?”

This is absurd.

If my ability is capable of easing pain or making the flowers bloom, what else is it capable of?

Your ability is more than just the darkness you carry, my dear.

Saoirse said that to me just weeks ago.

I wince, feeling sorrowful for shutting her out, but this just proves that there’s so much more she’s concealing from me. Yes, she’s bound to not speak of what she knows until the bloody appointed time, but why can’t she at least inform me of my own ability?