Silas clasped his hands together, the silver moonlight kissing the crown of his head with loose strandsaglow in heavenly darkness. Gold cast to the crimson roses, jaw hardening, before turning back to me.
I sighed, “Do you at least want to know why I am out here in the bitterly cold?”
No response.
I drummed my fingers against the stone bench. “A shadow snuck into my room and attacked me, the frightful thing that it was. It was weak, fading into nothing before hurling itself out the window.” I continued on with a smirk.
Silas’s eyes widened. “It was here! Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Yes, and I am quite positive.”
Silas ran a hand through his hair, snagging his fingers among pale moonlight. “Then, it has already begun.”
I cocked my head. “Silas, what are you not telling me?”
I truly took him in and noticed faint scratches, red and swollen on his neck and arms. As if something with long claws raked against him. He was not wearing his white mask, his silvery hair instead covered enough of the scars to hide them from view.
“Do you see the roses?” His body shifted toward me. His hands grabbed mine with such tenderness I shivered, not from the cold but from each stroke of his thumb upon my palms. Silas gave a breathless sigh. “They have been wilting, decaying, and soon, they will die.”
“As flowers do.”
“Not these ones. Never these.” Silas squeezed my hand, brows furrowing. “The castle, the roses, eventhe mists that prevent you from leaving this seclusion are all tied to me, and I am running out of time.”
The fog crept up to the gates, letting us know that there was nowhere out of its wispy grasp. “Silas, if this is about the other night, I—”
“No, no. I wished—I wished that I was explaining myself better.” Silas stood, his hands still folded with mine. “Perhaps if I showed you, it would all make sense.”
I rose to my feet. “Then, show me.”
Silas guided me through the warping maze, the sweet heady scent of the roses becoming stronger the further we went. Petals scattered the snow-covered path, a small trail for us to follow with only the moon to provide us with light from the encroaching darkness.
We entered out from the winding hedges to an open area. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the expanse of the space as Silas slipped from my grasp. He kneeled at a stone marker, saying words in ancient tongue before placing two fingers to his lips, kissing softly and setting it onto the gray stone.
Red roses shifted to white silver, flowers suckling in the budding moonlight. The grounds were cast in a sickly glow with the buds illuminating the enclosed alcove. Long strings of vines wrapped around stone, seizing all it can from the lone bench sitting among painted glass to the statue that loomed.
The statue was of a woman, her face round and poignant, smiling down at anyone who sat below her for a blessing. The statue, draped in Greco-Romanfinery, was sculpted with sensual care. A single breast poked out from underneath carved flowing fabric, her long white hair cascading over the growth. Nestled in it was a crescent crown glittering against glass. Her head was bowed in reverence to the lovers.
“They called this a moon garden, perhaps in honor of the moon goddess.” Silas stepped toward the bench, fingers tracing long-forgotten grooves. “This is the place in which I had been happy and it is the same place that has caused me such despair.”
I gasped as both Silas and the black-haired boy approached me, a crown of silver upon dark curls. His blue eyes gleamed brightly, whispering sweet nothings to ears that will no longer hear his voice after that night.
“Your curse,” I started, gaze fixed to the lone tombstone. I bent down to touch the fine carved words,Vi et animo. “Tell me, the vision with the woman and the men, the night I found you trying to kill yourself—it’s all connected to your curse.”
The gorgeous scene had been looked after. Not a vine touched the white marker, nor was there a speck of dirt.
“It began with her death, and it ended with my torment. I try not to remember, but my name binds the curse, or so I was told.” Silas slumped onto the bench, the painted glass from windows reflecting onto him in a beautiful array of colors.
It was just as it had been many moons ago.
“The woman you say you saw, she had been my betrothed when I had been a prince. Our countrieshad been at odds for many years, and both our parents agreed a political marriage was necessary to ease rising tensions. I had been a fool then. I wished for nothing more than the endless hunts and to be locked up in my study, learning about the world that I was not able to freely see. I often hide in the garden to get away from most of the courts and my parents’ attempt to secure a match for me.” His lips tugged into a tight smile, gaze lifted. “It was here I found her, sitting here staring at the roses. I came to find out that a rival for the throne had played a nasty prank on her, so she had come for a little solace. She was the beginning to my end.”
The cold numbed my skin, snow crunching underfoot as I took up a seat next to Silas. He shrugged off his coat, draping it over my shoulders, and tucked me in close. Heat bloomed across my reddened cheeks at the intimate act, heart drumming wildly in my chest.
I wrapped the coat tighter, not letting his presence distract me.
“Not long after she died, I was approached by a woman who promised to ease my suffering. I thought that she had meant she rid me of the memory of her or perhaps the ache of longing. I paid more than what I was promised. I condemn both her soul and mine to this hell. She, already dead, cannot move on fully, and I can never die. I can never join her in the hereafter to hold her, to touch her, to even talk to her.”
“Why can she not talk to you?” I rubbed my thumb as he talked, wishing I did not let the past affect me so.
