The orchids lined the central tables in precise rows as they had every morning for a very long time. Completely, unnaturally black, as if someone had burned them from the inside while leaving the physical structure intact.
“Sweet fates,” Lady Kenneth breathed behind me.
I reached out with my magical senses, searching for the familiar hum of magic that should pulse through this space. The greenhouse was designed to amplify feeling, to concentrate the joy and connection that fed these particular varieties.
But I found nothing, just a void where magic should flow.
Sasha moved past me, approaching the nearest table. Her plant magic flickered at her fingertips, and her face paled when she touched one blackened bloom.
“It’s not dead,” she said quietly. “But I don’t believe it can sustain itself for long.”
Savory swooped through the greenhouse, circling once before landing on an empty workbench. Even she seemed subdued by the horror filling this space.
I forced myself to move closer, studying the plants, pushing down the nausea rising in my throat. These orchids had been doing alright yesterday. Some were varieties that had grown in this greenhouse since before I was born. All were irreplaceable.
Anger stirred beneath my grief.
This wasn’t random destruction, but calculated sabotage aimed at the heart of our most sacred celebration. Whoever corrupted the underground chamber wasn’t content with subtle dampening anymore. They’d escalated to outright attack.
“I need to speak with the head gardener,” I said.
We found him outside near the eastern wall, kneeling beside a vegetable patch He looked up at our approach, and his recognition shifted to alarm as he caught my expression.
“Your Majesty.” He rose to his feet, brushing dirt from his knees. “You received my message.”
The man had tended these grounds for three decades. I’d known him since childhood and remembered him teaching me the names of plants when I was barely old enough to walk.
“I checked the orchids after dawn, sire. Same as everymorning.” His brow furrowed. “They were perfect. Better than perfect, actually. They seemed to be responding well to the new fertilizer mixture I’ve been trying.”
“And after your morning check?”
“I went to the kitchen for breakfast. The head chef always has porridge ready for the staff.” He glanced between us, worry creeping into his expression. “I stayed perhaps half an hour.”
“Who else has access to the greenhouse?” Sasha asked.
The gardener scratched his head. “Well, most anyone in the court, my lady. We don’t lock the doors. Though it’s restricted from after the dinner hour until after breakfast and only for the king’s use during that time.”
His gaze met mine. “Lord Turren likes to visit sometimes. He claims the humidity is good for his complexion. Lady Featherby comes by for herb samples. Lady Edwina will sometimes visit for certain plants she uses for divination, and Lord Primrose and Lady Daphnie will sometimes sneak in for… Well, you know. I’ve told them over and over again to keep that sort of thing private but when the heat’s high…” He coughed. “Anyway, even the former queen used to—” He stopped, seeming to remember Iberia’s recent exile.
“Any unusual visitors recently?” I asked. “Has anyone shown particular interest in the festival preparations?”
“I can’t say I noticed anything odd, Your Majesty. Though I’ve been so focused on getting everything perfect for the celebration, I might’ve missed someone passing through.”
These plants were his pride, his life’s work. I could see his distress in the way his hands trembled and the grief in his eyes.
“Thank you for your help.”
He dipped his head and got back to work.
“He’s not involved,” Sasha said quietly once we’d started back toward the greenhouse.
“I don’t think so either.” He’d seemed genuinely distressed.
When we returned inside, we found Lady Kenneth examining the orchids, writing things down in a small notebook and making sketches.
“Fascinating,” she said, not looking up when we approached. “The corruption pattern matches descriptions I’ve read in historical texts about the Border Wars.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
