“Good idea.” I added that to my mental list. “Though I’m not sure our library has much to offer related to that.”
“Then we’ll have to be creative about what we look for.”
For the physical investigation, we planned a full day’s schedule. Morning in the greenhouse and gardens. Midday interviews with botanical staff, conducted away from the main court. Afternoon in the festival preparation areas, including the ballroom and ceremonial spaces where our rarer emotion-responsive flowers would be displayed. We’d spend the evening testing our magical connection theory in different locations.
“We also need to consider motive,” I said, thinking through the political angles. “Who benefits from ensuring the festival fails?”
Sasha tapped her pencil on her lips. “Political rivals? Other courts who might want to undermine your authority?”
“Possibly. But the festival isn’t just about me. It’s sacred to all our people, a celebration of who we are as fae.” I frowned, working through the logic. “Who values control over genuine feeling? Who might see authentic emotion as threatening?”
“Someone afraid of vulnerability,” Sasha said softly.
Our eyes met across the table. The parallel to my mother’s fear wasn’t lost on either of us.
“We’ll need to cross-reference who’s been near the most affected plants with court schedules,” she said, redirecting us back to her notes. “Track movement patterns, access points.”
I watched her organize our findings in asystematic way, creating order from the mess. Warmth that had nothing to do with the tea glided through my chest.
Yesterday could’ve shattered my faith in everyone close to me. My mother’s betrayal could’ve made me retreat behind the charming façade I showed the court, trusting no one with the real me.
Instead, Sasha was showing me what a true partnership looked like. Not manipulation disguised as help, but genuine collaboration between equals.
My mother had tried to control who I was, to mold me into what she thought Sasha would want.
Sasha was helping me become who I actually wanted to be.
The difference felt profound.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, glancing up from her notes.
“That I’m grateful you’re here. That working with you feels right in a way nothing else has.”
Her expression softened. “I feel the same.”
We held each other’s gaze for a long moment, something unspoken passing between us. This wasn’t a declaration, but close. It was an acknowledgment that this partnership was becoming something more.
Savory made a pleased sound from her perch.
“What’s she saying?” I asked.
Sasha’s smile turned wry. “That some gardens need both structure and wildness to truly flourish. She’s being poetic about our investigative methods.”
“Smart bird,” I said again.
“Insufferable bird,” Sasha said, but her voice held affection.
As we continued planning, I noticed something odd. The flower arrangement on our breakfast table, which had beendrooping when we sat down, was straightening. The blooms seemed brighter, more vibrant.
“Sasha.” I nodded toward the flowers. “Look.”
She followed my gaze, her eyes widening. Around the room, other plants were responding too. Vines along the windowsill were reaching toward the light and a few flowers poked out among the leaves.
“It’s us,” she breathed. “Our emotional connection is feeding them.”
I stood, moving closer to examine a wilted orchid on the sideboard that was visibly perking up. It wasn’t fully back to what it should be, but it was definitely improving.
“This is a clue,” Sasha said, rising to join me. “If we can figure out what we’re doing right, maybe we can replicate it on a larger scale.”
