I sighed; of course, her mind went right to that. The start-of-season ball was always the grandest event we held at the castle. The ball rang in the new courting season, welcoming the new-of-age girls and men of Velra to court. It was essentially a mating ball with men and women masquerading in their finest clothes, using honeyed words, and trying to impress someone enough to marry.
I hated it.
“You show every emotion on your face,” Winnie scowled. “You’re twenty, Zara. It's time you took a courtship moreseriously. It's not like you are getting any younger,” she said with pursed lips.
I rolled my eyes. I wish I had just the ball to worry about, but I couldn’t tell her what was happening to me, at least not yet.
“It's nothing. I just haven't been getting much sleep. I’m not worried about the ball,” I reassured her, giving a soft smile, though it felt forced.
She narrowed her eyes at me, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve always been a horrible liar, but I won't press if it's nothing serious,” she said, straightening as she held my stare, waiting for my response.
“It's nothing serious, really. I would tell you if it was,” I said, shifting uncomfortably under her scrutiny.
She stared at me for a moment longer before relenting. “Fine. Let us walk.” She turned sharply, her yellow gown flowing out around her as she stepped off the terrace and onto the stairs. The guards followed, still keeping their distance. “Speaking of the ball. Have you any thoughts on who you want to escort you?”
I nearly tripped down the stairs at the question. “Do I have a choice?”
“Yes, you have a choice,” she said, looking at me sidelong. “But if you don’t decide soon, the decision will be made for you. Again.”
She sounded annoyed, but honestly, I was surprised she hadn't chosen someone already. At the last ball, she had Duke Wellington’s son, Geoff, escort me. His pimply face had made me nauseous all night, and I shivered at the memory. “I’ll find someone,” I breathed, forcing a smile.
We stepped onto the lush grass, following the gravel pathway as it wound into the garden. Silence lingered between us, broken only by the hum of bees and the chirping of birds. It was spring, and the air was thick with blooming floral scents carried on a light breeze. Beneath our feet, the gravel crunched witheach step, drawing us deeper into a maze of vibrant flowers, meticulously trimmed hedges, and elegant sculptures.
An enormous mosaic fountain stood at the heart of the garden. Benches circled around the open space, nestled amid the shrubs and flowering blooms.
We reached the fountain, and Winnie moved to our usual bench beneath the shade of the old orange tree—the one I had climbed countless times as a child. She sat with poised ease, but I didn’t follow. Instead, I walked to the fountain’s edge and gazed into the reflective water. Colorful fish darted beneath the surface, their tiny mouths puckering up expectantly, but I had nothing to offer them.
My thoughts drifted to last night, a sigh slipping from my lips as I lowered myself onto the cool stone rim. “Do you believe in magic?” The question slipped out before I could stop myself.
She didn’t respond, and when I glanced back at the bench, she was gone—now standing beside me, so close I hadn’t even heard her approach. I nearly toppled into the fountain but managed to steady myself.
“Why do you ask?” Her voice was soft, but her gaze was unexpectedly intense, making me look away.
I wasn’t sure why I had asked the question. Standing, I took a subtly step backward, and redirected my gaze to the water.
“I guess I’m just having some strange dreams lately—of places I don’t remember seeing before. They feel a bit too real sometimes.” I glanced at Winnie, but her expression was unreadable.
“What happens in these dreams?” she prompted, her delicate hands resting lightly on the fountain's edge.
“Nothing, really. I’m just standing, always in a different place. It scares me sometimes, not knowing where I am.” It was more honesty than I intended, but there it was.
I swallowed nervously as Winnie reached out, tucking a strand of my brown chestnut hair behind my ear and gently lifting my chin to meet her gaze. “Is this all that happens? Just dreams of strange places?” Her gaze remained as intense as before, and a lump formed in my throat.
Despite the cool air, my pale blue dress began to cling to my skin as my anxiety rose. Why had I brought this up?
“Yes,” I said heavily.
She contemplated a moment longer and released my chin. “Now that you mention it, you do look rather run down.” She took a measured step back, a soft smile now on her lips. “If they are bothering your sleep this much, I can have Spencer make you a night tonic. They used to help you when you had nightmares as a child.”
A memory surfaced. It was blurry, but I remembered Winnie and the head healer, Spencer, in my room as a child. I had woken up screaming, and I remember them fighting about something before Spencer pulled a vial from his pocket.
My brows knitted in thought. “I vaguely remember Spencer giving me something once. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try if you think it might help.” Our eyes met, and I returned her soft smile.
She took my arm with hers and led us away from the fountain and back onto the gravel path. “The tonics allow the person who drinks them to have a dreamless sleep. I think it should do the trick.”
We walked back to the castle in silence, but my mind was racing with our conversation. I shouldn’t have said anything.Do you believe in magic? Gods, why did I have to open my stupid mouth? Of course, she doesn’t. Magic is something you read about in fairytales as a kid or something lunatics or drunks talk about in taverns. She must think I’m going insane.
Once inside, Winnie said her goodbyes and headed toward her room.
