Page 47 of Blooms of Darkness

“Send the fifth Calvary to Demarva with instructions to return in a fortnight. I’m tired of so few of our soldiers returning.”

“As you wish it, my King.” Andras’s oversized cloaks rustled around him as he bowed. His footsteps were hurried as they echoed from the pavilion.

Why weren’t our soldiers returning from their missions? Did he ever plan on telling me about the anguish of our people? In some ways, I may be grateful for the trials as they allowed me tobe present when he received troubling news. News he’d done his best to keep from me.

Down on the field, the only contenders remaining in Round Two were Edmund and Lord Thatcher. Edmund had a healer by his side, and he rose on unsteady legs. The crowd cheered, and he grabbed a chalice, tossing it back with more confidence than I could have mustered after having just been poisoned.

He staggered through his door, leaving Lord Thatcher behind as additional healers continued to treat him.

After a few more moments, they dragged him from the arena. The crowd’s gaze was split between watching Lord Thatcher being taken to healing quarters, and the rest of the trial.

The remaining contenders were standing in front of more tables beyond the nature-made fence line, which held their doors. Each had a scroll laid out before them, as well as a quill next to it. Whatever they had come to, required them to give some sort of answer in order to complete the trial.

The king cleared his throat to get my attention and nonchalantly held up his own scroll as I furiously tried to keep up with the activities below.

“Can you figure it out? As our future Queen, you, too, will need to possess these same powers of deduction,” he explained. “While you will become Queen without passing the trials, what kind of Queen shall you be?”

The king had a copy of the contenders’ scroll. He cocked an eyebrow at me, ready to play another one of our games.

I gently lifted the scroll from his hand, unrolling it slowly. My heart pounded. I did not realize I would need to pass my own trial as well. Although maybe not as serious as my future husbands in the arena, this still meant something to me as my father wanted to see what I would do with this challenge.

I stared at the text.

I am your greatest friend and worst enemy,

Causing growth and destruction intertwined in every moment.

You are my greatest worshipper, and I am your greatest curse.

Fear some, fear naught, fear all,

For my beginning has no end and my end has no beginning.

In the darkest of moments, I consume you.

In the lightest of moments, I shine around you.

Amongst the greatest of warriors and poorest of paupers,

I treat all the same.

What am I?

Well, Fates above.

I hated riddles. Almost as much as I hated prophecies.

I read the scroll again, pausing after every line, determined not to disappoint my father. I wanted to be a queen he would be proud of.

Sweat formed on my back, my dress growing damp, as I continued to decipher the riddle, my heart beating harder and faster. I wanted to defeat the contenders on the field. If only I could compete and win my own hand.

I glanced down at the arena as the contenders hunched over the tables, attempting to figure out the riddle. My gaze shifted to the loyal subjects of Brookmere, waiting in anticipation of so much more than just a few trials. The air hung around us, heavy with suspense. The kingdom held their breath, watching and waiting, as we went through steps to learn what kind of king would lead them at their Queen’s side. A breeze rustled through the arena, and the swaying wildflower fields surrounding the outskirts of the stadium caught my attention.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the sweet floral scent the wind carried. I let the air envelope my body as I searched within for the answer. Allowing myself to become one with the beautysurrounding me, I recited the phrase of our people—May nature guide you.

My eyes bolted open, the answer as clear as the sky above.

Triumphantly, I turned to the king, as I rolled up the scroll and handed it to him. My mother practically buzzed with excitement. Her fingers clasped together tightly on her lap. I allowed my eyes to lock with my father’s. They blazed with excitement, a smile forming as he grasped the end of the scroll. I didn’t let go.

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