We followed Harkin’s men into the forest, and the sky darkened, light barely filtering through the thick canopy overhead. The trees had seemed large from the ridge, towering over the field and casting long shadows. Up close, they were monstrous, trunks thicker than widespread arms. They creaked ominously as wind rushed through the tall branches.
The scent of rotting leaves and mildew reminded me of home, not Toreshire but our real home. The one we fled. Bird song and the scattering of small animals followed us into the trees.
Up ahead, Eleanor kept Harkin occupied with dozens of questions. About the ruins. The Western Territory. His childhood. She didn’t leave a subject unquestioned. I fell behind when the path narrowed, so I spent a majority of the journey in Pierce’s silent company.
When the path widened again, we drew closer to them, and their conversation filtered through to us. “It’s not as cold as the Demnocollis Range, but the winters can be quite harsh. Summer along the southern coastline is where it’s most beautiful. Our Solstice Festival lasts at least a week, you should visit then.”
Eleanor sent a pleading smile over her shoulder. I didn’t know where we would be come summer, but I doubted visiting the Western Territory would be high on the list.
“We’ll see,” I said, appeasing her for now.
“Of course, you would both be welcome to stay with me,” Harkin continued. “Half the estate overlooks the ocean. During the festival, the beach is filled with large bonfires. Music and dancing day and night.”
That confirmed it—we definitely weren’t going.
I tuned them out again, and Harkin continued to regale Eleanor with stories, complete with winks and extravagant hand gestures. Eleanor latched onto every word. She had clearly taken an instant liking to the lord, and nothing could get in her way if she set her mind to something. Still, when her laughter reachedme, I couldn’t help smiling. It had been so long since she’d laughed like that. Perhaps I should give the young lord a chance, I could make room for anyone who made Eleanor that happy. As much as I loathed to trust him or anyone.
The deeper we moved through the forest, the more a tingling anticipation built within me—so subtle at first, I hadn’t noticed. I was almost breathless when we approached a clearing and the sky lightened, but I had no logical reason to be.
Eleanor gasped ahead of me, and when I reached her side, I agreed wholeheartedly. Though clearly a crumbling ruin, it was easy to see how largely magnificent the castle had once been. A row of high archways led to what must have been a grand entrance, either side of which sat partially collapsed turrets. The castle was so big I’m surprised it was so thoroughly hidden within the trees.
Thick leafy vines covered almost every inch of the remaining stone, the large purple flowers growing sporadically throughout were unlike anything I had ever seen. Small birds darted between open windows and crumbled archways, butterflies landing on leaves for only a moment before fluttering away again. Everything about the vision like something from a fairy tale. The field of everlasting flowers were breathtaking, but this … I had no words for the beauty of this place.
Leaving the horses with Harkin’s men, we approached the castle ruins. Drawn to the purple flowers, I gently ran my fingers over the soft petals. The overpowering scent wafting from them a strange mixture of floral and woodsy. The combination familiar but also wrong, like lilac and sandalwood, but also not.
“The purloe flower,” Harkin commented. I hadn’t heard him approach, too entranced by the deep purple among light green. “The flower of the Gods, thought to bring love or death, though you never know which will find you. Quite rare, given thesuperstitions, I don’t think it’s been seen outside the Isles for centuries.”
The purloe flower.
Considering all the stories our mother told us as children, I was surprised I hadn’t heard of it before now.
“Let’s go closer,” Eleanor announced before picking her way through the overgrown grounds to the building itself.
“Eleanor! It could be dangerous,” I scolded, but she waved me off, focused on stepping around large stones.
“You worry too much, Lia.”
“Or not enough,” I muttered, garnering another puzzled look from Harkin. I needed to watch my words around him; he seemed to pick up far more than I gave him credit for.
“Fear not, Miss Adelia, for I shall accompany her and slay any who dare defy me.” His words were said with a wide grin and amusement sparkling in his eye. He treated her safety as a game. I took back what I thought earlier—this young lord was far too irresponsible to be trusted.
When I didn’t smile, his expression fell, growing more serious than I had seen from him yet. He crossed an arm over his chest in a vow. “I’ll protect her with my own life. I swear it.”
His fealty seemed genuine, obviously trying to win my favor, but I didn’t buy it entirely. Still, I nodded my approval, and when he had walked a few feet, I called out his name. He turned with a brow raised. “You don’t want to know what I’ll do if anything happens to my sister, Lord Harkin.”
Though I addressed him formally, the words were a clear threat, and he knew it, his responding gulp visible. The pale-faced lord turned, jogging to reach Eleanor faster. I watched them for a moment. I would do anything for my sister, and not even a carefree lord would stop me.
I skirted along the edges of the clearing, following the trailing vines along the outer walls of the fallen castle, keeping Eleanor in my sight the entire time.
Something about being here … felt wrong. Off. Like we weren’t welcome or wanted. The breathless anticipation which filled me only minutes earlier settled into an uncomfortable churn in my gut.
It could have been all in my head. With all the newest revelations and pressures of the last few days weighing on me, it would be easy to confuse my instincts. I sensed that wasn’t it though. I didn’t move closer to the building, like my body repelled against it. Pierce trailed behind me, his attention alternating between my sister and me. She dragged Harkin around the castle, poking her head into gaps of stone to peer inside.
After circling half the building, I reached what must have once been a garden. The trees, overgrown and gnarled, seemed purposely placed, misshapenly branched shrubs dotted in a pattern. The scent of rotting fruit permeated the air; the summer crop having dropped to the ground unharvested. The purloe vines tangled throughout them all, a choking wave of green and purple, the remnants of water fountains fallen under the weight of them.
A small pergola stood out among the chaos. Pillars standing tall enough for someone to stand within the round structure and wide enough to fit three or four. Though vines covered it, they wound gracefully along the perfectly intact stone, not smothering but enhancing its beauty. Everything about it was perfect, as if only built recently and the vines coaxed to grow just so.
I approached carefully, drawn to the charming elegance but wary of its perfection. It had to be another case of magic—thecastle visibly crumbled a few feet away. How could this small part of it look as if no time had passed at all if not for magic.
