I grimaced. “Well, I don't know about everything, but I get your meaning.”
“So, Danu made the garden and spoke to King Solas,” Tiernan prompted. “Do you recall what happened?”
Mariya's gaze grew distant.
At least, I think it grew distant. Her entire face went a bit translucent, so it was difficult to tell.
Then she solidified herself and refocused on us. “We attended him. It was a great procession. The entire Seelie Court marched with the King into a mountain cavern. In the cavern was a garden of beautiful flowers and climbing vines. So lovely, and yet the air felt heavy with sorrow.”
“Interesting,” Tiernan murmured. “Go on, Lady Mariya.”
“There were words spoken.” She tapped the book. “They are recorded here if you need them. But I believe the King conducted most of the ritual himself, guided by the Goddess. I remember him cutting himself on one of the flowers.”
“He cut himself?” I asked. “On a thorn, you mean?”
“No, on a flower petal, Your Majesty. They had sharp edges. King Solas merely tapped a point, and it drew blood. He let his blood fall onto the rock beside the bloom, and a new flower sprouted as if he had planted a seed in soil.” She looked away. “I seem to remember his face going blank. He had to . . . uh, let me see.” She read the book for a few minutes. “Ah, here. Yes, the monarch must focus on what emotions hinder them.” She looked up at us. “Often, it is regret. That is what King Solas pruned from himself, and the reason he imparted that name upon the Garden.”
“The Garden of Regret.” I looked from her to Tiernan and back. “King Tiernan was touched by a black, glossy tendril of blight, and it took some of his emotions.”
“You were touched, Your Majesty?” Lady Mariya's pale blue eyes widened.
“Yes, the blight rose from the ground and attacked many people. It covered them in black, glossy ribbons—vines perhaps.” Tiernan made a spiraling motion with his finger.“Several victims were cocooned in these vines, but the Queen saved me from that fate. I was only touched for a few seconds.”
“And yet you were pruned?”
Tiernan frowned. “I don't know. This sounds similar, but how would this garden be reaching through the soil, and why would it attack people?”
Lady Mariya shook her head. “I don't know, Your Majesty. Magic of this sort—a harvesting magic—often needs to be fed. This garden has not been tended in centuries. It may be starving. Perhaps it has to resort to this to survive.”
“Tell me more.” Tiernan waved at the book. “What happened to the monarchs that pruned their emotions? Did those feelings ever return?”
“One moment.” She read and reread a few pages. At last, she met Tiernan's gaze. “The garden doesn't take your ability to feel. It only takes the feeling itself. Do you understand?”
“It takes the emotions that linger? Those that we feel and stay with us.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The emotions that haunt and hinder. It takes them, but you can still react to new stimuli. Your soul does not stop feeling.”
“I see.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“It was meant to help a new monarch.” Lady Mariya shrugged, the tops of her shoulders drifting away. “As I'm sure you know, the first few years of ruling can be stressful. I'm told that Kings and Queens must make decisions based upon reasoninstead of emotion. Pruning away regrets and sorrow, things of that nature, helped them to rule with reason alone. Just as an overgrown plant flourishes after you prune it back. But it was a pruning, not a weeding. Do you see? The specific emotions were taken, but the monarch could still feel new regrets and new sorrows.”
“Oh, I get it.” I glanced at Tiernan in relief. He'd return to normal.
Tiernan met my gaze but then returned to questioning the Archivist. “But even if this is the work of that garden, we don't know if it will function the same.”
“I'd venture to say it won't, Your Majesty,” Mariya said. “It's attacking. Taking, not receiving. The rules, whatever they were, have either changed or are gone entirely.”
“I've got several victims who are lacking their softer emotions, Lady Mariya. They are all numb versions of themselves. Do you think this is permanent?”
“Again, if this is the Garden of Regret, this is a new facet of it. I cannot say what it has done to any of the victims. I just hope that with the brief touch upon you, you were not greatly affected.”
“I don't think I was.” Tiernan glanced at me. “But those who know me best say I am different.”
“Honestly, I'm grateful for your calm, Tiernan,” I said. “But I don't want you dampened or numbed either.”
“Neither do I.” He frowned. “And yet, I can't help but feel this is for the best. I feel more capable. My mind is so clear. Sharp.”
