Page 1 of Where Shadows Bloom

1

Ofelia

It was the perfect evening to run away from home.

Mother had locked herself away in her studio and was surely so concentrated on her latest portrait commission that she wouldn’t even know I was gone. Until tomorrow, anyway, when she found the note on my pillow explaining my plan to her. If all went well, in less than a week, I would finally be walking the halls of Le Château Enchanté. Not long after, Mother would join me, and she’d soon be happy and carefree, painting the palace gardens.

By my side, exploring that magnificent, gods-blessed place, would be my dearest friend, Lope.

Tonight, though, she would serve as my accomplice and protector.

With a pillowcase full of my belongings slung over my shoulder, I crept down the staircase and hid behind a large marble column. I peeked out and, as I had planned, one of themanor’s guards, a young man dressed in a blue coat, was leaving his post. For five whole minutes, the front doors would be unguarded, as the knight who stood vigil swapped places with his replacement so he could have supper.Perfect.

I carried my shoes in my hand to soften the sound of my footsteps as I raced to the double doors and whirled through to stand on the terrace, triumphant. My back pressed to the door and my pillowcase clutched tight in my fists, I could hear Mother scolding me in my head.Don’t go outside at twilight. Don’t be so moony, Ofelia.And then, in her loudest, sharpest tone, from just an hour ago,Never ask me about Le Château again.

But the palace was the only place in the world where Shadows did not roam. And I could no longer ignore the way my mother’s eyes darkened, the way her fear mounted day after day as the Shadows crept closer to our home. We needed someplace safe. If Mother could not overcome her qualms with the palace, then I would take that first step for her.

The lawn was painted orange in the evening light. Our garden was sparse; just a few flowers and some boring boxwoods that were never trimmed. Mother would never pay a gardener for such “frivolities.” But I loved it. The azaleas, peonies, and impatiens that grew throughout the garden were meager, but they were mine.

Apart from these and the paintings Mother made just for us, there were not many beautiful things in my world.

The high wall of stone that surrounded the manor was the greatest reminder of this, and of the monsters that lay in wait not far from us.

But the wall also reminded me of a certain knight. And if my clever and hastily concocted scheme was timed as perfectly as I planned, Lope would now be just outside the eastern wall.

Ducking to avoid the windows, I darted through the long shadows painting the manor walls until I reached my destination. An expanse of the gray stone border wall was covered in thick vines and uneven bricks edged out just so, as if it were made for a girl trying to run away from home.

I had practiced the climb before. Just in case this day ever came.

There had at least been apossibilitybefore our fight that when I turned seventeen, Mother would come to her senses and allow me to be part of society. Would give me at least a chance to leave the cold, empty rooms of the manor behind and experience all the wonders of Le Château. My heart ticked into a gallop. I longed for the palace more than anything. For a world far bigger than the only one I’d known. A world where I could afford to concern myself not with my safety but withhappiness.Dances and card games and races through gardens, gardens that flourished. Where nature was not the home of Shadows but simply a place forbeauty.I was so certain that my heart would be healed and finally,abundantly happy the day I entered those golden gates.

And perhaps I would find not just joy, butlove, too. A girl who loved me. Loyal, kind, and patient. Tenderhearted but brave enough to follow me on even my wildest adventures.

Well. I wasn’t going to have my fairy tale on this side of the wall.

I tied the top of my pillowcase shut to hold all my belongings in, and then, with all my might, tossed it over onto the grass beyond. I heard a gasp and the singing of metal: a sword, drawn from its scabbard. Then, softly, “What on Earth?”

My heart swelled. I’d been right. She was there.

“Lope,” I whisper-shouted. “Lope, wait right there!”

With sweaty palms and a thrumming pulse, I grasped on to the thick vines and sturdy brick in front of me and climbed until I could heave myself up onto the wall, sitting astride it like I was on horseback. Below was Lope, shielding her eyes from the dying light, her mouth hung agape.

“My lady!” she croaked. “What are you doing?”

“Going on an adventure,” I whispered back. I glanced over my shoulder toward the manor, but thankfully, there was no sign of Mother or any guards. When I looked at Lope again, the distance from her was dizzying. I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed the knot in my throat. “I—I seem to have forgotten about climbing down.”

Lope unbuckled the scabbard from around her hips and tossed it onto my pillow-bag lying in the grass. Sheapproached the wall, holding out her hands for me like I was some cat stuck up in a tree.

“Slide your legs over,” she coaxed. “I’ll catch you.”

I pried one eye open. She and the earth seemed miles and miles below. I wobbled in place and took in a sharp breath, screwing my eyes shut. “Do you promise?” I peeped.

She laughed, soft and shy. “I’ll catch you. May the gods strike me down if I’m lying.”

In spite of everything, I smiled. Mother said I was too much of a dreamer, that I had an insatiable desire to be in a fairy tale. But with Lope, that never seemed to matter. I was the only person in the world who could make her smile. Practical, focused Lope, who had a near-permanent furrow in her brow and a hand on her sword, but who always listened with relish to my made-up stories of all things marvelous.

What harm did it do, seeing the beauty in the world? Wanting to have a life happier, more beautiful,saferthan the dull one we lived within this crumbling manor? Seeing Lope now just reaffirmed that I was making the right decision. For all of us.

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