‘No, we can’t.’ Glesni halted and turned to me.
I pretended I couldn’t see her.
‘We’re a rare breed, aren’t we, Sorrow Elmswood?’
‘You’re an Anomaly?’ I asked Keya, who nodded before lifting the heavy kettle and pouring the steaming water into a bright yellow teapot.
‘We shared the same mentor. That’s how we met.’
‘Almost seventy years ago,’ Glesni added. ‘I knew the moment I accidentally burnt her aspidistra and she forgave me that I’d met the one.’
I sank into the seat as they gazed at each other. The years of adoration and comfort gleaming between them as I looked away. The thought of childhood sweethearts, still achingly in love, after spending almost three quarters of a century together had the potential to thaw even Romero’s cold heart. But, it was a raw reminder of my missing piece. A future Matthias and I may have shared if only he’d made some effort after my accident. If he’d only tried. My thoughts flittered back to Danté’s words the previous evening.If you were mine, the world could burn and decay around us and I’d remain by your side until we drew our last breath. He was filled with more shit than the stables, but it still made me think. Matthias may flirt with me, get my heart racing with that damned smile, but he held back. We both did. Our hollow vow to ensure it was a marriage of convenience had expanded the gap between us.
I shook my head. A marriage in name only. I’d already decided there would be no future for us. So why did my heart wrench at the thought?
‘You said there were patterns with the damaged crops?’ I asked Keya, keen to distract myself. ‘What patterns?’
Keya placed a steaming mug of sweet lavender tea before me, adding a spoon of honey and stirring, the scent easing the relentless pounding in my head.
‘I’m not certain, I onlytalk to plantsas Glesni would say, but I suspect there’s Vyrium stores below ground or perhaps passing in underground rivers, causing crops to fail and creating areas where nothing grows. There was even a rumour of a diafol flower about forty years ago. The farmer claimed it ate her entire herd of goats.’
Gods. I sat straighter, my fingers clutching the mug. I’d suspected the same thing, but couldn’t find any evidence to support my hypothesis. I’d seen the effects of the fog on vegetation myself. It remained unharmed, meaning the pestilence affecting cropsmustbe the result of something else.
‘Pah,’ Glesni said, grumbling as she sat opposite, her gnarled hands wrapped around her own steaming mug. ‘Helps me sleep,’ she added as I raised my brow. ‘I told you about the nightmares, didn’t I? The ones where I see emerging Anomalies tear themselves to pieces?’
‘You may have mentioned it once or twice.’
‘Stubborn child,’ she murmured under her breath.
A small voice pleaded with me to unburden myself, admit the truth. Perhaps the crone held the key to avoiding the blight. I scrunched my eyes tight, an icy stab slicing into my lungs as the memories unfurled. The blood. Those damned screams. No. How could I admit what had happened when the merest spark of memory brought me to my knees?
Keya may hold answers. Answers I’d been searching for. All the greatest minds came to the same conclusion. Pestilence was spread by rogue fogs. But what if they were caused by unlocated mines? I grabbed a torn piece of parchment and Glesni’s pencil and pushed it across the table to where Keya sat, an amused grin on her face.
‘Could you write down the locations you suspect have been affected? It’ll really help with my research.’
I glanced up hopefully, letting out a sigh of relief as Keya took the pencil and began writing.
‘Anything to help my new queen,’ she said, tucking her hair behind her ear and focusing on the paper.
‘I said it earlier, she’s not an actual queen till she fu?—’
‘Do you need me to write bigger? Would that help?’ Keya asked, a smile playing on the corner of her mouth.
‘Please,’ I said, raising the cup and then taking a tentative sip. I groaned as the thumping within my head receded. ‘Are you sure tea making isn’t your gift?’
They chuckled, and I sat back, listening to the crackle of the fire and the scratching of the pencil.
It was strange to sit in Glesni’s company and not fight the urge to wrap my hands around her throat. She continued to make the odd dig about my lack of control and painful comments about my marriage – apparently the lack of any bedroom activity between the new king and queen were all the servants discussed – but her sharp edges softened around Keya. Time slipped by seamlessly as I sat entranced by their stories.
As the lamps flickered, Pablo sat and yawned. Across the table, Glesni and Keya held hands, wrinkled fingers entwined. I was about to tell them I needed to go when there was a rapid knock at the door. My heart stuttered as Matthias entered, his head low. He still wore his travelling cloak, which he tore off and placed on the hook by the door as though he were a frequent visitor.
My chair scraped as I stood, my stomach leaping. His gaze locked onto mine, eyes widening.
‘Matthias? I didn’t think you’d be back yet.’
He flashed me that smile of his and kissed both of the women on their cheeks. Glesni grumbled, wiping her face with her sleeve. For a frantic heartbeat, my skin prickled as I waited my turn, but Matthias rifled through his pockets, avoiding my gaze.
‘Neither did I,’ he said, placing a bundle wrapped in cream cloth before Keya. ‘I managed to get some ginger on my travels. Any chance you could whip up a batch for Sorrow, to help with her headaches?’
