Page 49 of Bride of Death

So strange how specific that is. Yet I grew so many of them in the greenhouse, and every winter, I stepped outside to enjoy the scent when mixed with the crisp air that often coincided with an alluring snowfall.

I thought, perhaps, I could re-create it here since the Netherworld Kingdom is often chilly.

No snow, though.

At least not in the year I’ve been here.

Unfortunately, it’s impossible since the ground is apparently dead.

At least according to Morpheus, the God of Dreams.

Fae, when he appeared last night, I just about swallowed my tongue. All the beings of this kingdom are good-looking, but Morpheus took the standards to a whole new level.

I could see why he was in charge of a fantasy realm. He really shouldn’t exist at all. Not with those incredible blue-green eyes, perfect lips, and defined cheekbones.

With a sigh—one that sounds a bit too dreamy to my ears—I kick off my shoes and head toward Pip.

He’s currently hovering in the kitchen, making me a little nervous. I want to ask him how he knows Morpheus, as it’s been on my mind since last night. But Pip was gone when I returned home, and I hadn’t seen him at all today.

Until now, anyway.

However, the anxious little dance he’s doing has me preoccupied with a new concern. “Please tell me you didn’t try to cook again.”

He shakes his head in his cloak, then bounces.

I narrow my gaze, afraid of what I’m going to find.

When all I see is a pot, I carefully lean toward it. “Did you plant something in there?” I ask warily, noting the brown dirt.

Pip shakes his head with a vigor, causing his hood to nearly fall off his head. He quickly fixes it, the blue flames of his eyes going wide.

I don’t exactly know why he’s obsessed with that cloak, but I’ve gathered it has something to do with protecting me. Because every time it’s almost fallen off, he checks me over like he’s making sure I’m okay. Just as he does right now despite being several feet away.

“So it’s just dirt?” I inquire, my brow crinkling.

He nods.

Then disappears through the wall.

I frown after him. “Hey, we still haven’t talked about the kitchen episode from yesterday, and I have some questions for you about Mor?—”

A knock at the door cuts me off.

My gaze narrows. No one ever visits me.

Not until the last few days, anyway.

“Maliki,” I mutter, leaving the pot on the ground to go see what my stalker neighbor wants from me. But when I open the door, it’s not Maliki standing there. It’s the fae from the swap store I bought the roses from.

Sweat beads across his forehead as he holds out a bag for me.

“I… I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he stammers. “I… I didn’t realize. I mean, I just, well, I.” He bows his head. “I’ve brought you more seeds. Every color I could find. And he told me you already have the dirt you need. But I’ll find you more. I can. I promise. I’ll go to the Human Realm myself to procure it. Just for you. If you’ll… if you’ll…”

I gape at him as he visibly shakes. “Are you okay?” I ask him, concerned.

He nods. “Yes, Y-Your Majesty.” He glances up at me and then away like he’s not allowed to look at me. “I’m so very sorry, Your?—”

“Sera,” I interject, not wanting to hear thatYour Majestyphrase again. “I’m just Sera. And thank you for the, er, seeds. But what do you mean about dirt?”