Page 7 of Ash and Roses

She returns to her embroidery with a shrug, no longer interested in this conversation, and I resume my staring out the window—very much not looking for Jade.

* * *

I flop back on my bed, cushioned by lush blankets that I’ve more than once wished I could trade for a hot meal. I press one of the many silver-threaded pillows into my face and groan into it.

“Why don’t you just go?” Teagan asks with a musical laugh that matches the song she’d been singing while she tidied my bedchambers. She knows me better than anyone, and if the random sounds I make were a language all their own, she would be the only person fluent in it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say into the pillow. I know exactly what she’s talking about, and she knows I know it.

“You can fight it all you want, but you’re only delaying the inevitable. Even if he wasn’t here, you’re overdue for a breakout.”

She’s not wrong about that. There’s only so much you can do inside a palace without drowning in boredom. It’s not like I have friends here, except for Teagan, and we’re too old to play as children. Even the staff rarely speak to me. I’m lucky if I get a, ‘yes, my lady,’ or, ‘no, my lady,’ but fuck that. Empty words do nothing to satisfy my need for personal connection, and Teagan can only give me so much. I can tell she’s growing annoyed with my incessant moping now, but I’d be surprised if she said anything. Encouraging me to make a break for it is usually where she stops. We’ve been back only a few hours, and already I must be driving her mad.

“The sun is still up,” I reason. “The Guardians will catch me the second I cross the wall.”

“The sun will set, and by then you will have thought of another excuse.”

With another groan, I hurl the pillow at her. She catches it with ease, as if she’d expected this reaction—which she probably did.

“I think Jade is from the coast,” I muse after a moment.

Teagan nods in agreement. “He does look that way. We could be cousins.”

“What do you remember about it? Before…” I can’t finish the question. Teagan has never shown any interest in talking about the massive wave of water that destroyed her home. Many children were orphaned that day—she included—and were brought here to serve. My father called it a mercy, but I’m not sure I agree. The children could have been adopted rather than placed into work camps and taught to serve the royal family. They’re paid only in food and board, and will never be free from this life. When they grow too old or sick to work, I shudder to think what will happen then.

“Not much. I know I liked the feel of sun-warmed sand and the scent of the ocean, but I’ve forgotten exactly what that felt like.” Her faint Sealander accent seems thicker now than it ever has before, as if trying to remember her home has unlocked the original cadence of her voice. “Jade may not remember either, if that is why you’re asking.”

“I don’t know why I’m asking,” I say with a sigh. Just as Terranous abandoned this land to blight, Tideus sent a wave of water to eradicate the Sealanders. The Gods are angry with us, and have been for some time. Some would say only Lunalissa blesses us now, but if that were true, wouldn’t she send enough food?

“Well, whatever it is, you should ask him.”

I sit up to face her. “You’re just trying to get rid of me.”

“Of course. When else do I get the room to myself?”

I laugh at that. “Big plans?”

“I’m going to have a nap in your bed and use all the pillows. Every. Single. One.”

I gaze around at the many pillows atop the bed. “Even I don’t use all of the pillows. There’s just too many.”

“I’ll find a way,” she shrugs. “Now you get out of here.”

I raise a brow in mocking question. “Is that an order?”

She moves to the window and drapes the shimmering silver curtain around herself. “It is. I am Princess Abilene and I command you to go talk to that man.” Her impersonation of me is ridiculous at best and way over the top. I don’t think I’ve ever sounded as snooty as that.

“You do that better than I do.” Perhaps Teagan would make a better royal than me. I don’t seem to have it in me to order people around the way my family does. Why does being born in a palace make us better than those born in a shack?

“Don’t take it personally. I’m just used to your sister yelling at me for one thing or another.”

“Well, it’s very convincing.”

“So you’ll go?” Her voice is sickeningly hopeful, and I don’t want to disappoint her.

I let out a long sigh. “I’ll go to the garden and think about it.”

She squeals in excitement. “That’s all I ask.” She sprints toward me and dives on the bed, burying her face into a pillow. “Now leave me alone with my bed.”

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