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twenty-two

Flowers like Stars

A single streak of warm, buttery light crossed Heather’s face, rousing her from a deep sleep.

Rolling over in bed, she blinked rapidly, adjusting to the brightness.

She couldn’t recall when she last slumbered until her body’s rhythm awakened her and was not in constant need to make haste. Mayhap, it was when she was a child.

Before the world forced her to forge her own path and everyday tasks burdened her.

Even pixie sized, and trapped in the king’s library, she slept uneasily and was up before the sun.

The only thing that would complete this moment was if Skye was lying here with her.

But faerie beckoned, so she rang for Ella to prepare.

Ella entered the chamber moments later. “Mr. Skye requested your breakfast be served in bed this morn.” Ella fluffed the pillows behind Heather’s head.

Baked delicacies appeared on trays and dishes atop the coverlet surrounding Heather, accompanied by flashes of Ella’s white magick.

The ‘One of everything’ from the bakery delivered as promised.

As well as a mug of steaming mint tea. Heather breathed in the familiar scent, comforted.

Skye’s remembrance of her preference lighting her heart. A smile bloomed on her lips.

“Thank you, Ella.” Heather’s cheeks heated. Memories of their intimacy from the other night painted vivid portraits in her mind’s eye.

“He wanted me to encourage ye to take your time,” said Ella.

Heather cut into the butterfly bread and lathered a healthy dose of butter onto a thick slice.

The food was delicious, and she wryly reflected that the best part was not having to worry if any of it was poisoned.

Her stomach appreciated that feature above all.

Next, she sampled some of the chilled strawberry mousse, which was airy and divine. She couldn’t help but sample a few nibbles of the swan cookies.

Breakfast complete, and her belly satisfactorily full, she rinsed her face, then sat down at the vanity table so Ella could attend her hair.

Afterwards, the maid handed her a lilac gown while she undressed behind the screen.

Heather was delighted to discover someone had supplemented her wardrobe with garments the human princess had not supplied.

Heather now had several chemises made of the most luxurious fabrics, and many under kirtles and over dresses.

Ella helped lace her up and don her stockings, garters, and shoes.

Today, she wore her wish ribbon as a sash, with a bow tied at her waist. Ella had plaited her locks in a long braid down her back.

Ella reapplied the bergamot luster to Heather’s torso.

Her arms and hands shimmered in a barely perceptible sage green.

She noted that the contents of the bottle was filled to the brim once more, after she used most of it yesterday.

Heather silently urged the handmaiden to hurry, in anticipation of seeing Skye after their romantic moments they shared the day before.

A sturdy knock sounded at her bedroom door.

Ella opened it to the man in question, donning a gray linen shirt with a drawstring opening at the collar.

It was gapping, revealing his sculpted throat and a tempting triangle of his upper chest. His neck was going to be her undoing.

That blasted tunic granted her no favors.

Averting her gaze back up to his face, her flushed pink cheeks betrayed the path of her eyes.

“Good morn, thank you for breakfast.” Heather greeted him cheerfully. She stretched up on her tiptoes to place a kiss upon his smooth cheek, right where she knew his dimple appeared.

His dark eyebrow quirked, tracking the trail her vision wandered from. “Did ye sleep soundly, Moonbeam?”

“Very well, thank you.” Her eyes wide in false innocence, her cheeks flushed. She tidied the wish ribbon bow at her back.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to delay our plans. My father summoned me. And when he calls- one must answer.”

Heather deflated. She could imagine how family could be. It had been years since she was linked to anyone in that way or owed someone deference besides the king. The unexpected presence of Skye’s father in her home last night proved how demanding he was.

“I would like to make his acquaintance.” Having met most of Skye’s family, she wondered what sort of make of a male his father could be.

The male was shrouded in mystery, but he sounded imposing.

She was slightly apprehensive, considering she already met Skye’s mother.

Would a lovely, heartwarming female such as she be with someone cold?

“And ye will but today is strictly for him to ensure I’m not shirking familial responsibilities.

I plan on taking every advantage of an audience with him, as I have certain requests to present.

” He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her earlobe.

His face softened. He was about to withdraw his hand but was diverted.

He slowly traced the curve of her delicate human ear. Heather’s breath caught.

“The king’s plans for a road have caused great distress. The map and the other scrolls ye provided have proved invaluable.”

“What can be done?” A familiar knot was reforming in her gut. Skye strode over to her breakfast tray on the bed, retrieved the mug of mint tea, and placed it in her hands. How did he know?

Skye sighed heavily, the weight of an uncertain future apparent on his shoulders.

“That’s one of the pressing topics scheduled in today’s audience with father.”

She took a healthy sip from the vessel and set it down on the side table next to the chair.

He changed the subject, “Aster will visit today, ye won’t even miss me.”

“An impossibility I assure you,” she quipped, then added, “You realize I don’t require watching like a child. Aster need not be here while you’re away.”

He sighed, brushing the back of his neck. “I’m aware, but I think the fae are a bit curious about the female I escorted through faerie square. And besides, Aster wants to get to know ye.”

He looked over to Ella, who then noticed his attention. She halted tidying up and retreated into the bathing room.

Once they were alone, he drew Heather into his defined arms, claiming her lips.

His mouth slanted over hers, widening enough that his warm tongue swept inside, reigniting the fierce yearning within.

She clutched the drawstring of his shirt, not knowing if she was trying to bring him closer or subdue the hold he had on her.

He broke the kiss, his eyes scanning to confirm Ella remained in the bath, whispering, “I see ye like this tunic. I’ll be sure to wear this style every day.” He withdrew, biting his lower lip, barely withholding a grin.

She was in a world of trouble. Smiling sheepishly, she playfully slapped his arm for the tease.

“I’ll return before dusk.” He brought her hand up to his face and kissed her palm, a searing promise upon her heated flesh. Then he turned to the balcony, exited the double doors and took flight. Heather watched after him and sighed.

“Ella, if Aster arrives, kindly let her know that I’ll be in the library.

” Those long weeks housed in the royal library, with shelves of tomes just out of her reach, made Heather realize her desire to read.

She never would have access to the books in the royal collection before.

Written works were expensive, extremely rare and only for the elite.

She was blessed to have been taught to read by her mother.

With tomes readily available, she was going to take advantage of the library her miniature castle now possessed.

And why not look for any information regarding the rains?

The account of the last king to defy the spirits of the realms might lie in wait within.

Heather walked down the hall, entered the library, perusing the titles on the first bookcase.

She brushed her hand along the leather backed spines; Histories of the Fae During the Dark Days, True Tales of Bride Hunts, The Metamorphosis Period, but her hand froze over the title 'Mating Habits of the Fae. ' What in the world?

She looked around her as if there were others in the room, ready to pass judgment.

She cautiously pulled the tome from the shelf, taking great care to lower it on the library table without a sound.

Her inner sense of propriety nagged at her, but she unabashedly wondered if there were illustrations within.

She actually giggled and covered her mouth.

If Jessa could see her now. She flipped through pages, spotting section titles: Territorial Males, Presentation of Gifts, Bonded Mark Dusting.

She settled on a passage called: The Wing Dance’ and began to read:

The Wing Dance is the physical act of propositioning another into courtship.

The fae in pursuit of the other will present their wings and commence a show of their glow, known as ‘Lumen.’ This dance is often performed in the company of their closest consul.

The most advantageous number in the presentation is three.

One by one, the pixies exhibit the breadth of their wings and proceed with a display of Lumen, giving the individual pursued options and the opportunity to single out one of the pursuers.

Wait a tick, thought Heather… the night Skye returned to her- he, Rhoden and Tarragon performed this dance! Her lips curled up into a smile. The air in her lungs snagged in her throat. Her cheeks heated as she recalled how Skye shone brighter than the rest.

“Whatcha reading?” Aster’s voice sounded next to her, making Heather jump. She snapped the book shut, clasped it to her chest, but not before Aster read the title.

“Oh, my gods!” Aster exclaimed with a laugh.

“Is everything well in there?” called Rhoden from the hall. Heather gave Aster a sharp look.

“Everything is fine, thought I saw a spider,” Aster called back, covering for Heather.

Heather released a breath of relief. She would have keeled over in embarrassment if Rhoden found what her reading material entailed.

“Does Rhoden go everywhere with you?”

Aster laughed, “That’s usually what personal guards do.”

“Why is that necessary?”

Aster shrugged. “Having Ashwoode as a surname, overprotective parents, an older brother, ye choose. Faerie isn’t much different from the human lands, in that females are under the protection of their families and their family name.”

Heather mulled that over. She supposed, as a servant, she took more liberties than, say, a woman of title.

She was free to roam to a greater extent than a Lady, who was expected to maintain her propriety.

One of the few advantages of being a ‘no one’.

But having no kin meant Heather was often at the mercy of predators like Uster. Society was a double-edged sword.

“Did ye find anything interesting in there?” Aster nodded towards the book, before she peered over her shoulder, in apprehension of Rhoden. She then whispered, “Were there any illustrations?” while arching a sharp brow.

Heather laughed, “That’s what I was wondering,” and covered her broad smile with a hand.

Rhoden remained absent. “Well, let’s see, shall we?” Aster peeled the book from Heather’s clutches and laid it out on the table, proceeding to skim through the pages.

“Ah-ha!” Aster exclaimed loudly. Heather shushed her, looked to the door, fearing Rhoden would make his appearance at the exclamation. Heather peered down at the page Aster had boldly spread wide.

“Oh, my.” she uttered, and the two women quieted as they fully absorbed the illustration.

A fae couple were entwined in the intimate sense while in flight.

The males’ strapping wings were out wide, in mid flutter as he carried the female.

They were joined at the hips, the female's mouth open in rapture, her head thrown back in reckless abandon as the male made his ministrations.

The library chamber was suddenly boiling.

The male had long, flowing onyx hair. Heather side eyed Aster, wondering if the illustrated fae’s locks reminded Aster of Crimson.

There was an uncanny resemblance. Aster’s arched ears were turning pink.

Heather thought of the sweet scent that wafted from Aster in the market square when Crimson was nigh.

“What are the two of ye looking at?” Rhoden’s voice sounded from the door. Aster acted fast, covering the lewd drawing with another tome on the table.

“Nothing!” they stated in unison. The females looked at each other and burst into laughter.

Rhoden walked the library, taking stock of the shelves, “Quite a collection you’ve got here. Probably the largest selection in faerie, other than Ashwoode’s parents.”

“Heather would ye mind if we returned to the square?” asked Aster.

“Not at all. One of you would have to fly me down, though.”

Aster grinned and with a wave of her hand said, “No worries, Rhoden will be happy to assist. Won’t ye, Rhoden dear?”

Heather was envious of their ability to fly. Their wings made every window a feasible exit at this altitude. Relief hit her again that she didn’t have to drop from her balcony with only a woolen sheet to catch her.

“I don’t think that’s what Skye had in mind for thee today.” Rhoden crossed his arms, assuming an offensive stance with his feet spread, his yellow wings riled up and twitching behind him.

“Nonsense! She’ll be with me. And we’ll have a big powerful male escorting us.

” Aster’s palm tapped his chest, then she flicked one of his loose shirt ties hanging from his neck before she made her way over to the gothic windowpane and pushed it ajar.

Before Rhoden could form an objection, the female sprung into flight through the opening.

Rhoden grumbled and Heather fought a smile as he lifted her in his arms.