Chapter seventeen
Morning arrived with a gentle knock and the scent of fresh bread. A young fae with dragonfly wings set a tray on the side table, offering a shy smile.
"Lord Arion sends his apologies," she said. "The council meeting is running longer than expected. He asks if you would meet him in the eastern garden when you're ready."
Briar thanked her and surveyed the breakfast, honey cakes that actually looked like honey cakes, berries that weren't trying to test her, tea that smelled of mint and nothing else. She ate slowly, savoring flavors that didn't hide threats.
Another knock came as she finished. When she opened the door, she found dresses laid carefully across a bench in the hallway. Her breath caught at the one on top.
The gown seemed spun from seafoam and morning mist. The bodice was palest sage green, wrapped and twisted in a way that would hug her torso before flowing into a skirt of gradually deepening blues and greens. Delicate gold embroidery traced along the edges where the colors met, and the long sleeves would drape elegantly past her wrists, hiding the marks that had spread during her time here.
She dressed carefully, still marveling at fabric that didn't require help to fasten, that didn't squeeze the breath from her lungs. The dress flowed around her as she walked, fabric sliding over fabric with each step.
The eastern garden was awash in morning light when she arrived. Flowering vines climbed trellises in organized chaos, and a fountain sang softly in the center. She settled on a stone bench to wait, face turned toward the sun she'd thought she might never feel again.
"Enjoying your last day of pretend freedom?"
Briar's eyes snapped open. Ferria stood beside the fountain, though she hadn't heard her approach. Today the fae woman looked different, harder somehow. Her dark hair fell in careful waves past her shoulders, threaded with small silver bells that made no sound. The morning light played across her amber skin, making it seem to shift between warm and cold.
"Where's Arion?" Briar asked.
"Still arguing in council about what to do with you." Ferria moved closer, her dark eyes holding secrets like a miser hoarding gold. "They're split between those who think harboring you further risks war and those who think sending you back is unconscionable."
"And you?"
"I think you're going to cause catastrophe either way." Ferria stopped just out of reach. "But perhaps you could be useful first."
"Useful how?"
"You want to understand the golden flowers, don't you? Why they bloom for you when they shouldn't exist outside royal command?"
The warmth in Briar's chest pulsed with interest. "You know something."
"I know many things. Including that there's someone who could teach you." Ferria plucked a leaf from a nearby vine, twirling it between her fingers. "Someone Eliam keeps buried so deep even the roots fear to grow there."
"The oubliette—"
"Deeper. Older. A place where he puts things he wants forgotten." The leaf spun faster. "There was once a human who grew golden flowers. Like you."
Briar's attention sharpened. "What?"
"They say he could make them bloom at will. Turn Eliam's own magic against him." Ferria's eyes glittered with something unreadable. "Beautiful, terrible things. Shields of petals. Weapons of root and thorn."
"That's why Eliam imprisoned him?"
"Eliam tried to kill him. Multiple times. But the flowers..." A meaningful pause. "They protected him. Turned blade to petals, poison to nectar. Every death Eliam sent returned as blooms."
"So he locked him away instead."
"Buried him so deep even the stories died. But I remember." Ferria stepped closer. "I was there the day they dragged him down. Still bleeding gold from where the flowers burst from his skin to save him."
Hope flared in Briar's chest, painful in its intensity. Someone like her. Someone who understood. "But even when I'm back, how would I find him? I don't know where these deep places are, and Eliam watches everything in his domain."
Ferria smiled, cold and calculating. "That's where this comes in." She held out the leaf she'd been spinning. It looked ordinary, green with silver veins that caught the light.
"What is it?"
"A gift. Or a curse, depending on how you use it." Ferria turned the leaf over, revealing a shimmer across its surface. "Two hours at a time, that's all it gives you. It shows observers what they expect to see while you do whatever you need to do. One use per day. Enough time to search for the deep places without Eliam knowing you've left your room."
