“No,” he said. “Others couldn’t. You have a gift.”
The words settled over me in a way that made me feel like glowing, and I had to look away before he could see how much they affected me. Other than my grandmother, no one had ever called my plant affinity a gift. My sisters knew I had some ability with growing things, but it had always seemed insignificant compared to Cyrene’s joy magic or Adele’s weather manipulation. My aptitude with plants was a hobby, nothing worth developing.
But the way Dominic looked at me suggested he saw something different.
His recognition of my abilities felt like a bridge between us. I told myself that having a partner who valued my strength would help me protect everyone better, without the mess of deeper emotions.
Before I could respond, the greenhouse door burst open with enough force to rattle the glass panels.
“Your Majesties.” A woman’s voice rang out. “Oh, how utterly romantic to find you here together!”
“Ah,” Dominic said, rising to his feet, his gaze traveling past her to a lord entering the greenhouse as well. “How nice to see you both.” He turned to me. “Allow me to introduce you to one of our most joyous couples, Lady Daphnie and Lord Primrose. Lord and Lady? This is Sasha, my queen.”
“We attended the wedding yesterday,” Lady Daphnie gushed, smoothing her hands down her ruffled pink gown. “And my, how lovely it was. There’s nothing quite like new love, is there, Primrose?”
The lord pressed one hand to his chest. He wore a dark tunic shot through with pink stripes that perfectly matched Daphnie’s gown. “Like two flowers intertwining their roots in the garden of matrimony.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “Good morning.”
“Good morning?” Lady Daphnie fluttered her jeweled fan in front of her face. “My dear queen, it’s amagnificentmorning. Your first full day as a married couple, and here you are, sharing the sacred ritual of dawn gardening.”
“We were examining the dying plants,” I said.
“And no doubt examining each other’s souls through the medium of botanical distress,” Lord Primrose declared, pulling out a lace handkerchief and waving it for emphasis. “How utterly profound. Like two hawks circling in the mating dance of intellectual connection.”
I blinked. Hawks? Mating dance of intellectual connection? Now I was the one who had to stifle a laugh.
Even disorder has its own peculiar rhythm, Savory said dryly in my mind.
“You simply must continue this beautiful bonding over breakfast,” Lady Daphnie said, gliding forward with the train of her gown trailing behind her. “Newlyweds should share their morning meal while gazing deeply into each other’s souls.”
“Souls and sustenance,” Lord Primrose said, as if this was the best combination imaginable. “The twin pillars of marital bliss.”
“They should gaze at each other’s souls,” Lady Daphnie shot back. “And nourish the flames of passion with carefully selected delicacies that mirror the sweetness of their love.” With the back of her hand pressed against her forehead, she pretended to swoon.
Lord Primrose gently caught her, kissing her brow and setting her upright again.
“I was planning to suggest they consider flame-nourishing,” he said.
“You were about to mention hawks again,” she said with a pout that brought out the dimple in her right cheek.
Dominic caught my eye, and I found my own amusement reflected there. For a moment, we were united in our shared captivity to well-meaning but utterly overwhelming nobility.
“Thank you both for your thoughtful advice,” Dominic said, managing to sound sincere despite how silly the situation was. “We were actually just about to head to breakfast.”
“Wonderful,” they said at the same time.
“Allow us to escort you,” Lady Daphnie said.
“And provide additional romantic counsel along the way,” Lord Primrose added, wiggling his eyebrows in what he probably thought was a subtle way.
“That won’t be necessary,” I said, perhaps too quickly,because both of their faces crumpled with dismay. “I mean, we wouldn’t want to impose on your morning. Surely you have your own romantic gazing to do.”
Their expressions brightened immediately.
“She’s right, my darling,” Lord Primrose said, turning to Lady Daphnie. “We should retire to the rose garden and compose odes to each other’s magnificence.”
“Only if I can compose mine first,” she said. “My love clearly burns brighter.”
