Father used to keep them growing in the royal gardens and greenhouse, simply because he could. That was… he kept thembeforeMother hadsupposedly died. I had always assumed hecouldn’tbear to look at them after her passing. Now, Iwasn’tsure what to think.Maybe hesimplydidn’twant any reminders of her in the castle.
The seeds planted in the bed before me were ones I had slipped out of Hugo’s stash earlier that night. He kept some of them in his workspace—always. I was certain they had some sort of healing property, though Icouldn’tlist exactly what it did.And withhow poorlyhe’dhidden them—next to the orangevialI’ddistracted him with—Icouldn’timagine they wereallthat important.
“Where did you find these?” Mother asked, slickness wetting her eyes.
“I have my ways,” I said as I watched her lean down and cup one blossom in her hands. Delicately, she took in the soft scent of its purple center.
The flowers seemed like they almost benttowardher as she gingerly wove a hand through them.Maybe theydid—itwasn’tlike I knew much aboutplantziriliumoutside of what they could do in battle. Iwasn’tsure what to expect in a softer, kinder setting. But I did know that the scene before me forced a small fissureinthe rockI’dformed around my heart. If I had to name it,I’dsay it very nearly made me feel…joy.
“And… you’re welcome to visit them anytime. Or we can find a small pot around here, so you can take a few to your chambers.” I rubbed the back of my neck, a shade embarrassed. “Whatever you’d like, Mother.”
She took a seat on the ledge of the flowerbed, then grinned up at me.“Thank you,” she offered sincerely, then waved for me to come closer, which I obliged to. “Try now, Dimitri,” she encouraged as she reached a handunderone of the nearest blossoms. I watched with a partial view as the shadow of that flower wrapped around her fingers in an instant, reminding me of the way an ivy plant would wrap around tree limbs in the forest.
When I hesitated, she patiently waited until I, too, reached out a hand toward the multitude of shadows coming from themoonlilies.
I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. The tingling came quicker this time, though it spread slowly up my arm. I focused on the energy of the shadows that I felt through myzirilium, as well as conjuringthe image of the specific flower and its shadow I knew was closest to my hand. I went over in my mind the different swells and divots in the flower’s shadow, searing it into my mind’s eye until the image was so clear I could nearly feel it.
And then, Ididfeel it.
The connection snapped into place, and I felt myself melt into the shadow. Ormaybe theshadow melted into me—Icouldn’ttell anymore. I was bound to it, and it to me, and we were one as I began to move about.
Looking around, everythinglooked the same except for me. When I tried to look down at myself, I simply glimpsed a form constructed of black, wispy shadow. I grounded myself in that feeling—itwas like beingeven lighter than when I was flying. As though all the weight of the continent had been lifted from me, even temporarily.
After memorizing that feeling the best I could, I released the binding connection I had with the shadow, appearing once again as myself next to Mother. The shadow sprung back into place without the outside influence of anyzirilium.
“I knew you could do it!” Motherclaspedher hands together. “You did it—you tethered yourself to a shadow!”
Tethered. I took note of the word, realizing that it fit much better than the binding wayI’dbeen thinking about it.
“I did it,” I said, looking down at my usual pale hands, then up at my mother excitedly. “I did it!”
Bubbling with pride and feeling positively overwhelmed, I went in to hug Mother for the first time.
But Iquickly stoppedin my tracks, freezing, whenin a split second her demeanor changed as she flinched back from the almost-contact.
“I’m-I’m sorry,” I said, retreating a few steps.
“Not your fault,” she reassured me as she looked back toward the flowers, wrapping her arms around herself in what I assumed was an act of self-soothing.
Something I imagined she was far too accustomed to.
What had happened to her in her time away that caused her to react likethat?
“Keep practicing,” she advised as she ran a finger down a flower petal. “The more you practice, the easier it’ll become.”
I nodded, doing my best to take in her counsel, though my mind was elsewhere by that point.
I’dbegunthe evening with training and endedthe sessionby letting my emotions get out of hand.I’dgone to visit Hugo, and ended the conversation by, once again, letting my emotions get the best of me. And now, even when I was trying to behave and to be good—to be who Ithoughteverybody wanted me to be—my emotions still got the best of me, and Istilldid damage.
Maybe Father had been right all along.
Emotionsdidmake one weak.
And I would die before I let the world see me become that.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The sun had just kissed the horizon when Rayven and I paused our hastening just outside of Castle Avyer’s grounds. Slipping back into our physical forms, I tried to read the spy, to understand how he was feeling, but he’d slipped his brooding mask back into place.
