I knew hawks had very good hearing, and it was right above me. Maybe it could hear me? Whether it could understand me was another question. “Fly free, hawk. For all of us unable to.”
Its head turned and looked right at me then, to my immense surprise. I guess it could hear me after all. I gave the hawk a smile and it trilled at me in what I swore was meant as a compassionate noise, its eyes shining with a sad light.
I brushed away the tear that escaped, and I sniffed to hold back the rest of my tears. I couldn’t afford them. Not now that I was in Dusk, ripped away from my parents and everything I knew. Everyone had their worlds turned upside down on Placement Day. I had to be strong and find a way to live my life anew. Just because I was a slave, didn’t mean I couldn’t find happiness in some small measure.
Things could be much worse. My master could be crueler, certainly. Someone who used the whip every time his hand moved, like some masters I’d heard tale of. My parents had been lucky, and it seemed like I might be too.
Only my luck came with strings attached, and ones I couldn’t rightly live with. As I looked out at the kingdom beyond my window, I allowed myself to dream of a different world. One where I wasn’t a human slave, and where I could live in a palace like this because I was born for it, as opposed to being chained to it.
A world where I could meet a handsome prince and gladly start something with him, because he didn’t possess me.
But that world only existed in dreams—and reality was never fair to dreamers.
Chapter 5
Walkingthrough the gardens was a surreal experience. It seemed like something a courting couple would do. But no, it was just a Fae crown prince and his slave. And said prince, for some reason only the Old Gods understood, wanted to show me the gardens.
“This is my mother’s passion. She spends a great deal of time on this garden. She’s very proud of it.” Cyrus told me as we entered the elaborate space.
“She gardens? I wouldn’t think—” I cut myself off before I got myself punished by insulting the queen.
“No, she doesn’t.” Cyrus barked a laugh, picking up my train of thought easily. “She doesn’t get her own hands dirty, of course. She directs others on what to plant and where.”
Of course. Old Gods forbid the queen got her precious handsdirty. The hard work of gardening must be much easier with plenty of slaves to direct every which way.
“She had the water feature installed several years ago. Her centerpiece, she calls it.” He rolled his eyes, like he found this all as ridiculous as I did. I quirked an eyebrow in response, and Cyrus grinned down at me. Old Gods help me, it was hard to remember the reasons I couldn’t give into him when he gave me that playful smile.
“The sculptures are changed out every so often, to keep it interesting, she claims.” Cyrus explained as we walked along the garden path. I was too absorbed in looking at the row of plants that had been shaped into animal forms. A huge pegasus was seated on an elevated marble base, taking up the place of honor in the center of the garden. It was surrounded by all sorts of animals: wolves, foxes, bears, phoenixes, deer—even a mermaid.
Sculptures lined the path that led into the next section of the garden. Here, the water feature Prince Cyrus mentioned stood tall in the middle, surrounded by all types of bright, beautiful flowers, like splashes of paint thrown over the green.
“Wow.” I couldn’t help but breathe out. It was intense, with all the different colors dotted around the space—a bit overwhelming, but it was also incredibly beautiful. The walls were covered in creeping ivy, and light roses bloomed wild across them. Several batches of night roses were mixed into the arrangement, though they were currently closed with the sun high in the sky. There were moonlilies, comet orchids, and sunflowers all mixed into the different arrangements surrounding the fountain.
“Come along.” Cyrus chuckled lightly at my slightly stupefied look. He took my arm and led me down the path around the fountain and to the other side, where I found rows of tall hedges. I raised a brow up at Cyrus, who snorted a laugh. “My motherdeveloped a maze. It’s supposed to highlight the different flower types on each hedge apparently.”
There were a plethora of different types of flowers, most of which I couldn’t name. I didn’t even realize there were so many different types of flowers! The realization was just another reminder of how very small I was in this world, and how little I knew of it.
“Personally—” He started walking, leading me into the maze. “I think it’s nothing but a vanity project. She’s competing with Queen Oriana for who has the better garden.” He rolled his eyes. “Every time we visit with Dawn, the two of them are jumping to tour the other’s garden. All so they can judge who is better and make sly comments disparaging the other’s garden. It’s a waste of time really.” He sounded exasperated at the thought of it.
I couldn’t think of a polite response, however. It was so absurd that I couldn’t help but laugh, the bitter sound filling the garden. I thought of the years when we’d had a shortage of food due to bad crops, and we’d been left with scraps because the Fae took the food for themselves. The nights my stomach felt like it was turning inside out, and I was left dry heaving from hunger.
And these queen’s…competed over who had the most over the topgarden?
It made me want to run through this maze and rip every bloom off their vines—then set fire to the entire ludicrous thing.
I somehow managed to keep a straight face through the tour as he showed me the full maze. It was all exquisite, but only artificially. All carefully planned and plotted, but with no real love in it. Still, exploring the maze was better than being stuck inside.
As Cyrus brought me back through the castle, he stopped to show me every outrageously expensive piece he and his family had purchased, just because they could. It was a miracle I was able to nod and smile my way through it. Thankfully Cyrusseemed to just enjoy hearing himself talk, not requiring much input from me. Thank the Old Gods for small mercies.
When we finally got back to his rooms—our rooms, I supposed—there was a slave waiting. She stood patiently in the entrance way, hands clasped in front of her, wearing the uniform most slaves here did, all a drab, medium gray.
“Ah, Priscilla. Excellent.” Cyrus looked pleased to see her, before he turned to me. “Asteria, meet Priscilla. She is going to prepare you for dinner tonight. You won’t be able to dine with my family, obviously, but I’ll have food sent up for you to eat beforehand. As my personal—” He paused, considering his words. “Assistant, you’ll be expected to stand behind me like the others during dinner.”
“Others?” I asked, my brows furrowing at the news.
“Yes, the others.” He nodded sharply. “Other sla—mortals.” I eyed him as he quickly corrected his slip. “Ones my family members use as their ownpersonal assistantsof sorts.” He smirked at me in a way that told me I was missing something. “Each member of my house has a human who assists them and only them.”
Did they also have sex with these assistants as Cyrus wished to with me? Wait—
