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Chapter twenty-seven

T he start of the new week marked the countdown to my birthday entering single digits, and another day closer to my own personal hell.

I spent the morning doing a rigorous but short workout, keeping my exertion to a minimum—I had other tasks planned for the day that didn’t require me falling asleep half past noon.

Once Nessy left the mats with a bloody nose, we called it quits, and I practically ran up the stairs to my room.

Other women dressed in simple but elegant gowns with diamonds dripping from their ears, each cast me looks of disdain as I knocked into them.

I paid them no attention as I continued all the way up to the third floor, where I was immediately greeted by Ysabel in the hall.

“What’s got you in a rush?” she asked.

“I have things to do today,” I answered with a shrug as I slowed to match her pace, giving myself time to catch my breath.

“Oh really? Like what?”

I gave her a side-eye look with a smile as we walked into my room, where I was able to point to the windows. “Do you notice anything different outside?”

“Umm. . .” she said, going over to the window to look at the grounds. “Is there a new fountain?”

I chuckled slightly at her question. She was looking too close.

“No, I’m talking about the weather.”

“Oh. Oh! The sun is out!”

“Precisely. Which is why it’s a perfect day to stroll through the gardens,” I clarified as I made my way into the bathroom.

Ysabel followed me as she continued the conversation, “The gardens? I wasn’t aware you were an admirer of them.”

While she was partially right, I was more of a wildflower-in-a-field kind of girl but I still loved the outdoors.

Regardless, that wasn’t my reason for going.

My decision was based solely on the fact that I’d overheard Katryn and her puppets talking about going to the gardens today when I’d made my way down to the gym.

Undressing from my sweaty clothes, I argued, “I love the gardens! I can only imagine how beautiful they are with the fallen leaves.”

Ysabel furrowed her brows at me for a brief moment before seeming to accept my answer and moving to start the bath. As she added the lemon and vanilla scents, she asked, “How are you holding up?”

Her question threw me off balance so much that I nearly tripped pulling off my pant leg.

How was I holding up? There was no holding up .

At this point, there was only surviving.

Surviving each day without the one person who had captured my heart completely.

Surviving the constant battles and ridicule thrown my way because my son's father failed to tell me that he was in line for the throne when he impregnated me and left. On top of all that, I was now fae! A fucking immortal being with abilities that shouldn’t belong to anyone, let alone me.

I had expected to die—for the guilt and grief to eat me up and take me from this world—but that didn’t happen. And now, I had to spend every aching day with the knowledge that I failed as a mother while having Nickolai’s words remind me each second I tried to forget.

I had no purpose in life, no reason to breathe other than to seek out my vengeance upon Sedonia. But this time it was different. This time I wasn’t going to bury down any of the memories, any of the tears, or the knowledge of Aedon. Those were mine to carry with me—to be proud of.

Of course, I couldn’t say any of this aloud. If I did, I would probably get locked up with the key thrown away. So instead, taking a deep breath, I gave Ysabel the answer I knew she wanted to hear: “I’m fine.”

Mercifully, she didn’t question me any further. I wasn’t sure how long I could lie to her before all the stuff I kept pent up inside me spilled.

We didn't speak throughout the duration of the bath, and only broke the silence to pick out an outfit.

Soon, what had to be one of the tightest corsets was cinched around my waist underneath a plain, square-cut, dark-gray dress topped with a blue cloak.

While I was going for a certain look, the only jewelry I felt was necessary were a small pair of sapphire earrings and Airmathair.

Ysabel, as usual, seemed like she was also granted a gift from the gods every time she touched my hair, braiding it into a long single tail that started on one side of my head and fell on the other. Only a few wisps of shorter hair were left out to frame my face.

While it was exhausting, a part of me could imagine myself dressing like this each day. Picking out a new color of dress, a new fabric, accessories. The way that each item complemented the other had me feeling like a princess. Something my younger self would’ve killed for.

As I took a moment to collect my thoughts and admire our work in the mirror, Ysabel asked, “Would you like me to go with you?”

I shook my head slightly. “No. I think I’ll bring along a book and get in some light reading.”

The lies were starting to come out so easily. But I couldn’t risk her being near me. She couldn’t be associated with anything that I was about to do. If I was caught, then that would be on me, but I would hate for her to be reprimanded for something that she wasn’t even aware of.

She nodded in acceptance, and I stood up from the vanity chair. I gave her a small, hopefully inconspicuous smile before making my way back to the bedroom, moving to grab a book from the night table—funnily enough, the books were the only things untouched when Katryn destroyed my room.

Pulling off the book on top of the pile, I uncovered the one that I had taken from the library. The one with the prophecy. It seemed like so much time had passed since then, when in reality, I found it the night before Harvest Day.

A small part of me wanted to give up my mission to the gardens to go over the book once again, but the other part—the one that was eager to see Katryn bleed—was too strong.

Making a promise to myself to look at it again soon, I left.

Once outside, I was welcomed by a slight breeze, which made me grateful for the cloak and its hood. Multiple groups of women, dressed in similar outfits, milled about the path as I walked to the tall hedges.

When I had looked at the gardens from above, I could clearly see the layout of what should be considered a maze.

Towards the front of the intricately placed hedges was a rather large area that housed two massive fountains and undoubtedly hundreds of flowers.

Smaller gathering areas were scattered throughout the rest of the gardens, which created more of a chance to get lost, but also more privacy.

I walked past the entrance to the main area that was packed with gossiping women, most likely talking about another woman who wasn't even five feet from them.

The gravel crunched under my heels, which nearly rolled my ankles with each step.

Pulling out my book from under my cloak, I pretended to read it as I continued my walk, scanning the faces around me at each opportunity.

When I spotted Katryn and her horde of snobs, it was difficult to restrain myself from slaughtering her in front of each of the witnesses milling about. She would get what is coming to her soon enough.

I took one quick scan, and found that there were quite a few groups who each tried to discreetly point in her direction as they talked.

“—saw me standing there. It was like she purposefully stepped on my foot,” the brunette with too big of a nose to fit her face complained.

The plump woman beside her shook her head, “I don’t know what the king sees in her.”

I walked a few more feet into the garden to listen to the next group, keeping my eyes mostly trained on my book.

“I heard that the tailor had to take out her dress again!” whispered a girl in a bright yellow gown that stood out against all the other colors.

Perfect.

Walking up to the group I shyly said, “Excuse me.” They all turned to me with worried looks on their faces. “I couldn’t help but overhear. . . Are you by chance talking about Katryn?” I asked, feigning intrigue. At my continuation of gossip, they visibly relaxed.

“I heard that it’s because she is expecting,” the bright yellow woman whispered.

I pursed my lips. “Hmm.”

Collectively, the three women looked at me, confused, before they eagerly asked, “What?”

I shook my head. “I shouldn’t say anything.” It was like I added fuel to an already blazing wildfire by the way they each perked up.

The third woman's eyes were practically bugging out of their sockets as she excitedly whispered, “You have to!”

I gave them a sinful-half smile, glancing around us and leaning in closer to them, “Well, I heard that Mary is secretly having an affair with the king.” Their gasps were so loud that they drew the attention of the nearby groups. “But you didn’t hear it from me,” I added.

They each nodded in agreement before looking at each other with crazed eyes and taking off to join the next group of women. Group after group, the wildfire spread, creating a continuous chorus of women collectively drawing in breath that echoed throughout the foliage.

I made my way down one of the paths that put me on the other side of the hedge from them.

Choosing to hide within one of the smaller gardens that displayed a large tree with a bench in front of it.

It wasn’t long before the shrill screams of Katryn’s voice pierced the air, sending several birds fleeing.

“HOW COULD YOU!”

“Katryn, I swear I didn’t!” The fear in Mary’s voice had me nearly feeling guilty. Although I was more glad that the voice I currently heard was the woman that I’d guessed to be Mary.

“You liar !” Katryn screamed, followed by the unmistakable sound of a loud slap.

Cries filled the garden, followed by crunching gravel beneath hurried footsteps. I was about to move after them, but stopped when they started to draw closer and closer until the footsteps and Mary were in the same private garden as me.

She collapsed onto the bench, covering her face with her hands and I quickly rushed to comfort her. Throwing as much sweetness into my voice as I could, I asked, “Are you okay?”

Mary didn’t bother to look up as she shook her head, “She wouldn’t believe me.”

“I too know how it feels to not be believed,” I reassured while rubbing my hand along her arm.

Mary finally looked up at my face, and when she did, there was an unmistakable look of shock filling her wide, puffy eyes.

I tilted my head slightly to look at the redness that was spreading across her cheek from the slap.

“Would you like me to get you some ice?”

Her brows furrowed so much they almost touched. “Why are you being nice to me?”

I sighed, “Because besides what Katryn says, I’m not a bad person.” Current circumstances aside.

Her features softened as tears filled her eyes once more, “She thinks I’m having an affair with the king. I tried to tell her it wasn’t true, but she wouldn’t listen. . . The king doesn’t even know I exist.”

“I doubt that that's true. She is probably jealous of you.”

Mary blushed before blowing out an exasperated sigh, “You don't get it, Katryn gets everything she wants. She even made me switch rooms with hers so she could be closer to the king's room. And it had the best bathtub in it!”

“That’s awful! Wait a minute. . . what room is it?” I asked, my stomach twisting with nerves from being so forward.

“You know, on the back right of the second floor corridor by the stairs.”

“My lady's maid told me about that room!” I lied. She dropped her head—sniffling her runny snot. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” I asked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the all-too-familiar catty voice called out around us.

Mary and I startled at the sound, looking up to find Katryn with Della and a new girl—who was probably patiently waiting for the day to be a part of Katryn’s group.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “I’m comforting Mary, do you have a problem with that?”

“Go figure, the flea-covered forest rat with the whore of Iredon,” she said, crossing her arms under her cloak. The girls behind her giggled, and Mary started crying another round of pebble-sized tears. I suddenly felt the need to put myself between her and Katryn.

Standing before her, I copied Katryn’s pose, “What do you care? You’re the one who slapped her.”

She stepped closer. “Are you feeling left out?”

The mist within me tried to flare to life at the blatant challenge, but I tapered it down. Even still, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop the diabolical smile that split my face as I lowered my hood. “Sure.”

Each one of their mouths dropped as they took me in. Katryn smartly retreated a step and said, “That’s not possible.”

“I can assure you, it is." I had been purposefully hiding my ears within my hair whenever I left my room for this exact moment.

“Does the king know? Are you a spy?” she asked, shouting the last word rather loudly to gather the nearby bystanders.

I chuckled, which only seemed to redden her face. “Of course he knows I’m fae,” I said, adding a suggestive tone to my voice.

That seemed to be the last straw for her. She pulled back her hand, giving me plenty of time to dodge her blow, but I didn’t. I let her hand strike me across the cheek. My brain registered another chorus of startled breaths before Katryn grabbed my braid and yanked me down to waist level.

I was going to let her win the fight—I needed to, in order to keep me from seeming like a threat to her. But as she whispered so quietly that my ears strained to find the words, “Must I rip up more of your hideous drawings to teach you another lesson?”

I lost it.

The mental walls that I had built over the massive ball of red mist disintegrated in an instant, and I felt the other being trying to take control of my body.

Causing the sudden realization that the red mist wasn't just my need for vengeance—it was power.

The thought nearly made me lose my focus then and there.

I ducked under her arm that had a grip on my hair, forcing her wrist to twist in a way that it shouldn’t bend—making her let go. It took every ounce of strength I had within me to not hit her. Willing my legs to break out into a run, away from her. I couldn’t trust myself.

Compelling tears to my eyes, I let them fall for the watchful women who lined the path.

Fake tears turned into fake sobs that, at some moments, felt all-too-real.

I was ready to get back to my room, to shut off the tears so I could celebrate the success of my day.

But as I finally exited the maze, I froze, and my eyes locked on green ones.

Nickolai stood near the side of the garden, looking as if he were arguing with Zeke. The brief glance that he granted me was unreadable and I wondered if he could hear what happened in the garden, or if he even cared that I was crying—even if it was fake crying.

Probably not.