But then—I see it. The first flecks of warm light, prickling at the edges of my vision.
The blackness retreats like a fog and there they are.Lydia and Emmett.We’re back in the garden of the castle.
The opalescent towers of the castle glow in the bright sunshine and all around us the gardens are a riot of color. Pink roses bloom as large as dinner plates, and sparkling violets trail along the tan gravel path. A fat green dragonfly buzzes by lazily.
“Lydia! Emmett!” I shout, but they don’t turn.
They’re sitting side by side on a stone bench. Lydia is crying into her hands, her shoulders heaving while Emmett lays a comforting hand on her back, his face pained.
“Hello,” I shout again, now directly in front of them.
My stomach turns as the realization dawns. They can’t see me.
I take another look at the trees in full bloom.
It’s summer.
Lydia and Emmett look different, too. Their hair is only slightly longer than it was when they left England. Emmett has no piercing in his ear.
I’m in a memory.
Emmett’s eyes are hollow and his doublet hangs off of him, exposing sharp bones. Lydia looks less gaunt, but similarly haunted.
She reaches into her bodice and pulls out a delicate gold chain. The charm on the end of it glints in the light. I take a step closer, then gasp.
“What is it?” Emmett extends a bruised hand and takes it.
But I already know.
“It’s Ivy’s baby necklace. We left them at the base of a tree when we were little, trying to summon a faerie. It was a silly childhood game. Mine was there the next morning—I’d planned to hide them both and keep up the fantasy for my sister—but Ivy’s was gone. I figured maybe a magpie had snatched it, but then when I came back here after the wedding, I found it in my room.”
Emmett visibly shudders. “What do you think it means?”
Lydia frowns. “It means Bram has been watching us, and going back and forth to England, for longer than any of us have realized.”
She gestures to the garden surrounding us, and it’s only on a second look that I realize something about this place is wrong.
The tips of tender summer leaves curl into brown. In the tangle of roots below, fruit is split with rot, festering in the noonday sun. Patches of grass have turned a sickly yellow, and the purple flowers lining the winding garden path are wilting.
“I think the land is sad when he’s not here,” Lydia says.
“Sad?” He rubs his hand, which is mottled with a yellow bruise.
Lydia blinks hard, and I know this look well. She’s about to start crying. Sure enough, her face goes red and Emmett gently brushes away a tear. “That sounds stupid. I don’t know. I just feel it,” she says.
“I don’t think it’s stupid.”
A summer breeze floats by, brushing gently through her golden curls.
To anyone spying from afar, they’d look like lovers.
“I don’t know what to do,” Lydia cries.
“About what?”
She tosses up her hands. “Everything. Bram has just left me here. He hasn’t returned in a month and I’m trying my best to keep his court together, but no one respects me. Lady Thalia petitioned to allow taking changelings again, Emmett.Changelings.When I tried to put an end to it, she muttered something about me having no real authority here. The worst part is, she’s right. I’m trying my best to be queen, but I can’t seem to manage it.”
“You’re a wonderful queen,” Emmett says softly.
