Did he just call me weak?
“Why did you save me if you were just going to insult me?” I ask.
He levels an even gaze at me, intense but unreadable. “I’m not trying to insult you.”
“Well, it certainly feels like it. But you didn’t answer my question.”
“Which one?” The gardener cracks a coy smile. “You have so many.”
I cross my arms. “Why did you save me?” I repeat.
He doesn’t answer, just looks at me for a long while. “Do you always demand answers from strangers in gardens?”
“Only the ones who steal my shoes.”
That earns me the faintest chuckle—the first real crack in his armor. He snips a stem and inspects it as if it might answer for him. “Some roses are worth bleeding for.”
“Is that another riddle?” I demand.
He glances at me, one brow raised. “You ask a lot of dangerous questions.”
I step forward. “And you never give a straight answer.”
“Maybe I like to keep people guessing.”
“Maybe you enjoy being infuriating.” I snap, realizing I may have gone too far. But he just smiles, slow and deliberate, the corner of his lips curling up to reveal a devastatingly handsome dimple.
“Not enjoy, Fire.Prefer.”
My hand curls into a fist. “I can’t tell if you’re warning me or threatening me.”
“What’s the difference?” he murmurs, stepping closer.
We stand in silence, too close for strangers, but neither willing to back down. A burst of wind stirs the ivy along the garden wall. Somewhere in the distance, birdsong echoes between the stones.
A bell tolls from one of the towers, its peal mournful and final. The gardener straightens, and the spell shatters. He takes one careful step forward and tucks something into my palm. I glance down to find a small blue flower, star-shaped and almost glowing.
“To help you sleep,” he murmurs. “Crush it in warm water and make a tea; Marb can show you how. That way, you won’t have any more late-night strolls.”
Our fingers brush again as he closes my palm around the delicate flower, sending a pulse through me that I can’t quite name.
Ever so slightly, he bows his head and disappears down the garden path, gone like mist in sunlight.
I stand there long while in the void he leaves behind. Behind me, the breeze stirs the roses, whispering secrets I’ll never learn. Barefoot and breathless, I stare at the tiny flower and realize I’ve traded one mystery for another.
That night, I make the tea.
Chapter 11
A Secret for a Secret
The tea doesn’t work. I follow the gardener’s instructions, crushing the petals just like he said and pouring warm water over the blue blossom until the steam kisses my face. But all it gives me are dreams I can’t wake from.
Fire. Screaming. My sister’s voice, lost in the flames.
When I wake in a cold sweat, Marb is waiting for me. I stare out my window in confusion as morning sunlight streams in.
“Did I miss the ball?” I ask. Suddenly realizing I slept through the night, I frantically run to my wardrobe and rifle through the gowns for the torture device I left hanging there.
