Page 19 of A Rose Among Snakes (Gardens of Ruin and Revival)

Chapter Eighteen

M iraculously, the stew cooking over the fire was not disturbed during the skirmish. We ate quietly, everyone still on edge from the attack. Kezara and I retired to the tent as the sun set, the linen walls feeling safer than being out in the open. We heard the men discussing their shifts for keeping watch, Velian included.

As it grew darker, Kezara’s soft, rhythmic breathing filled the tent. But it was not enough to lull me into sleep. The vision of Velian driving his sword through the man’s chest was burned into my eyelids, and the only way to escape it was to stare at the fabric ceiling above me. I had never seen a dead body before, let alone witnessed a death. With the shocking revelation, I battled feelings of shame, tossing and turning as I remembered the way I had been dragged out of the carriage and hardly fought back. My father had taught me better than that. At only fifteen, I was consistently disarming him and winning sparring matches, yet in the face of a real attack, I froze. Just like that day in the alley with Kezara.

Never again.

Never again would I let myself be so easily overtaken.

Once the pit in my stomach faded, I started to fall asleep only to be jerked awake by the sensation of someone grabbing my ankle. Then my reflection on the incident would resume, and the cycle continued until light began to peek through the gap between the tent and the ground.

Beside me, Kezara was sound asleep, and I did my best to get up and dress myself without disturbing her, my stiff muscles adding to the difficulty. I tiptoed out of the tent, meeting the chilly breeze. I wrapped my arms around my body and made my way over to the dying fire. Milner, Denzen, Corman, and Paolef slept on the ground around the site. Quietly, I stoked the fire with a stick to revive it, feeling a rush of warmth from the awakening coals. A kettle sat next to the fire and I opened it, the bitter scent of coffee floating out. I grabbed the iron stand, placing the kettle over the fire to reheat it.

While I waited, the breeze blew again, carrying the sweetest floral aroma. I glanced around and located the source; three black locust trees, their branches laden with white flowers. At the base of one, Velian sat facing the road. He was so still I wasn’t sure if he was awake or not, so I waited for the coffee to be ready, pouring it into the only clean mug present. I crept around the men, trying my best not to make noise or spill hot coffee on them, and made my way over to Velian.

His head whipped around sharply at the sound of my approach, his hand twitching toward a knife at his hip. His fierce expression softened when he realized I was not an attacker, and he moved to stand, but I motioned with my free hand for him to remain seated. I crouched by him instead, offering the cup of coffee. Lifting it to his lips, he took tentative sips of the steaming drink. Stubble shadowed his face, and faint dark circles sat under his eyes, but somehow it didn’t detract from his appeal—especially the stubble.

Keeping my voice low, I asked, “Have you slept at all?”

He grimaced. “I tried to at first, but there was no use, so I told Corman to go to bed. Did you?”

I bobbed my head from side to side. “Not really.”

Velian nodded as if he understood what I didn’t say. He turned his gaze back to the road and took another sip.

“Did anyone come by the road?” I asked.

“No, it was a quiet night—aside from Milner’s snoring, anyway.” A crooked smile transformed his face, eliciting a quiet giggle from me.

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, but I couldn’t keep my mind in the present moment. “What did you do with… um… his body?”

Velian looked at me, his expression blank. “He’s just behind our campsite under a blanket. They can deal with him if they want.”

I worried my lip, measuring the emotions coursing through me, then said, “Good.”

He tilted his head to the side and frowned. “Good?”

I turned my attention to the road. “Yes, good.”

“Why do you say that? ”

“Because my father died when I was fifteen and we were never given the chance to bury him. I’m sure, as awful as the man was, he must have someone who cares for him. They might want to give him the burial he deserves.”

I felt Velian’s eyes roving over my face, studying me in the silence.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

His tone was gentle; tender like he was crooning to a frightened animal. My throat closed up, but I choked out,

“Thank you.”

“My mother-” he began, but the sound of the tent flapping open cut him off. Kezara poked her head out and loudly whispered,

“Mihrra!”

I waved my hand at her and she relaxed when her eyes landed on me. She waved back and retreated into the tent.

“I should go help her,” I said.

“Absolutely,” Velian chuckled.

I stood up and maneuvered my way around the men lying on the ground, now stirring, thanks to Kezara’s theatrics.

In the tent, I helped Kezara get cleaned up and ready for another day of travel. We emerged and ate a small breakfast of eggs and bread, prepared by Corman. The meal was rather lacking in comparison with the finery made by Shandy every day, but I had higher hopes for meals at the castle.

The camp was packed, and I decided to load my own bag into the carriage. Opening the rear compartment and readying to place my bag in there, I remembered Kezara’s trunk needed to go in first. I scooted a couple of wrapped packages over to make room, assuming they were engagement gifts, only to discover another compartment beneath them. Curious, I placed my finger in the notch and lifted the lid, seeing a dark bag. But the thudding of a trunk hitting the ground behind me pulled my attention. The lid to the compartment slipped out of my fingers, and then Velian was there, making room for the trunk. He shifted so his broad back blocked my view, but not before I noticed him discreetly close the secret compartment. He didn’t acknowledge me, and it was enough to tell me I was in the way. Stuffing down my curiosity, I took my place at Kezara’s side, waiting in the shade of the trees, letting the sweet, floral breeze wash over me.

Minutes later, everything was packed and we were on our way. I rested my head against the window of the carriage and the gentle jostling soon rocked me to sleep. Sometime later, I woke as the wheels of the carriage hit paved streets, the bump knocking my limp body over. Slumped down in her seat across from me, Kezara glanced around, a deep frown creasing her forehead. I pulled the lace curtain back and saw we had entered a city enclosed by massive stone walls.

Gray stone covered every surface, meaning we had reached Clavo. The Stone City was where King Leoro held court in his castle perched on a hill overlooking the city. Clavo was a haven for all who felt displaced thanks to King Leoro’s reputation of benevolence and generosity. When the crown passed to him, he opened up the gates to allow refugees from both Etheniar and the island territory of Quemina to give them opportunities they didn’t have in their homelands. He did his best to keep taxes low, and in turn, the citizens of Terrune respected and appreciated him.

People lined the streets; vendors were selling their goods, patrons brandishing money, but more still sat in the shadows. Gaunt, skeletal faces with hollow eyes stared into space, either huddled under tattered cloaks or standing, exposed by the rags clinging to their bodies by threads. Others were lost in hysteria, blinded by their false euphoria as they danced and stumbled around. A man rubbed blue powder onto his gums, making no attempt to hide the Ziffem.

My chest ached and burned, heartbreak and fury warring for dominance. It was a choice, and it affected everyone around them. I could only hope Jehiam had learned his lesson and was making better choices.

I’ll never forget the first time I saw it; only a week after my father’s death, small pouches appeared on everyone’s doorsteps in Roben. There had always been talk of a miracle crystal you ground up and rubbed on your gums to make all your troubles disappear, but it felt like a myth. My mother disposed of the bag on sight. But not everyone could resist.

It wasn’t long before many villagers were dependent on it. I watched as people I knew well wasted all their hard-earned money and possessions trying to get more and more of the exorbitantly expensive drug. Roben suffered for a few years, but those who did not fall prey worked to help those who would accept it. Those who did not were driven out for the sake of the community. I knew my father would have been involved if he had lived to see it. Then again, perhaps it was for the best he didn’t have to see his son nearly kill himself using it.

I’ll never forget thinking I was going to lose yet another family member. I continued staring out the window but focused on the buildings instead of the people.

I had never seen so much Ziffem out in the open before. Clavo was a noble city, but it seemed people were taking advantage of it with their flagrant disregard for the law. I had assumed the royal city would be clean and sophisticated, but the reality made me sad. Thankfully, the gray stone gave way to lush grass dotted with wildflowers as we emerged from the walled city. The carriage tilted back as we switchbacked up a steep hill. The top of the hill was quite a way off and we were moving slowly, so I sat back in my seat. I glanced over at Kezara who had been oddly quiet and found her staring blankly at the wall in front of her, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Kezara?”

She startled and focused on my face.

“Is everything alright?” I asked.

She pasted on a tight smile. “Yes, of course. We’re going to a ball!” I only stared, waiting for the facade to drop. Kezara’s smile wavered as she whispered, “I’m not sure how we’re going to fix this, Mihrra. I’m going to lose him.”

I reached across the space between us and patted her hands. “I don’t think so. Love always finds a way.” Her eyes sparkled with tears, and I added, “Or so I’ve been told. I’ve never actually been in love, so what do I know?”

Kezara let out a musical laugh, shaking her head. She squeezed my hand and said, “We haven’t known each other very long, but you feel like the sister I’ve always wanted.”

“You too,” I said, returning the squeeze.

“Except you already have a plethora of sisters.”

I pulled my hand out of hers and pressed my fingertips to my chest, feigning reproach. “Not a plethora. Just two… and two brothers.”

She groaned. “Brothers. I definitely don’t need another one of those.”

Thinking of Jem, I nodded and laughed. I wondered if little Sashir would grow up to be a troublemaker like Jem, or if he would remain a rule-follower such as Ambrelle. Savine was the more fiery of the twins, so maybe she would follow after Jehiam, instead.

Guilt stabbed my ribs as it usually did when I dwelled on my family. Here I was about to attend a ball hosted by King Leoro, and at home, my youngest siblings were no doubt learning how to work the farm to help keep our family afloat.

I decided to change the subject. “You know… You never told me how you and Leoran met in the first place.”

Kezara sat up straighter, twirling a curl around her finger.

“Prepare yourself, it’s scandalous.”

“Is it?” My eyes widened, afraid for what Kezara deemed scandalous enough to warrant caution .

“No, I’m teasing. I was in town six months ago to meet Rosida—I know, there’s no need for that face, Mihrra. Anyway, she was running very late so I decided to wander amongst the stalls after escaping Henella. I was admiring a beaded satchel when someone bumped into me from behind. I was prepared to give the assailant a verbal lashing but found myself staring at the most handsome man I’d ever seen.

“We ended up strolling the streets together, and he bought me a flower to put in my hair. He told me he had to leave, but asked for my name first, promising to write. He disappeared before I could ask his name, though. He was true to his word, and a letter arrived two days later asking me to meet him in secret again. We met at the tavern, and he revealed his name, which was quite a shock, but certainly not an unwelcome one. We’ve been meeting ever since, and the rest is history.” Her expression was lighter, the dark cloud over her dissipating with every word she spoke. The unmistakable joy Leoran brought her had me softening my opinion of him. She deserved to be happy.