Page 5 of What Blooms from Death

“I commissioned it from Orin,” he said.

Orin Greenbark was one of my many teachers. Mother was not particularly fond of him and his unorthodox views on magic—among other things.

And there was magic in this piece he’d created, no doubt; I could already feel it coming to life as I slipped the bracelet on.

“You like it, I hope?”

I couldn’t take my eyes off it. “It’s beautiful,” I breathed.

“Good. Happy birthday, My Star.” He planted a kiss on top of my head. “Now, let’s get to this party before your mother disowns us both.”

Though he did escort me through the doors as planned, after my appearance was officially announced, the king was swallowed up by his own admirers, everyone clamoring for a chance to speak face-to-face with him.

The King of Light was having a similar effect on the partygoers on the other side of the room.

Because of this, I found it easy to disappear into the shadows, even though I was the guest of honor.

The hall was even more impressive than usual. Dozens of tables spanned the space, draped in layers of silk and lace, glittering with silver and gold cutlery, overflowing with plattersof exotic fruits and delicacies. The scent of spices mingled with perfumes worn by guests, wrapping me in a rich, heady embrace. The music of string ensembles and flutes filled the hall—a soothing backdrop to the conversations growing more raucous by the minute, thanks to the countless wines flowing freely from stations in every corner.

I found Phantom hiding under a table, devouring scraps of some slab of meat he’d managed to pilfer. At the sight of me, he gulped down the remaining bits and scurried to my side.

Heads turned my way as I continued my walk through the dazzling room. Most offered a polite bow or a generic well-wish for my birthday. Few made prolonged eye contact or conversation.

I was not revered the way my parents, or my alleged husband-to-be, were—but I was not hated, either. I was…tolerated. The odd daughter of a well-liked king and queen. Despite my strange magic, I’d never caused anyrealtrouble for the royal city I called home, and so I was mostly left to my own devices. Overlooked, save for the rare occasions when my mother insisted on celebrating me.

I doubted any of the people here would care if I left this kingdom.

Most probably wouldn’t even realize I’d gone.

Some days, I wondered if it would have been easier if they all hated me. If that would have been better than being overlooked—better than being able to blend perfectly into a party but rarely asked to dance.

It was unsettling to feel so alone in a room full of hundreds of people who knew my name.

“Maybe a change won’t be so bad,” I mumbled to Phantom as I slipped him a slice of roasted beef.

Maybe things would be different in Elarith.

For the next several hours, I drifted through the glittering spaces, sipping my favorite red wine and slipping in and out of daydreams about what awaited me in the weeks to come.

The night pressed on. The crowd grew more inebriated. The full moon rose higher, the skylights allowing its beams to press in and strike chandeliers, sequined dresses, and dangling jewelry, turning the room into a shimmering kaleidoscope of color and movement.

It was easy to get swept up in the magic of the event, however detached I might have felt from the people around me. Easy to enjoy the moment. To appreciate all the work that had gone into it—and it soon occurred to me that I should find my mother and thank her for that work.

After a bit of searching, I found her standing by my father on the largest of several verandas attached to the banquet hall. Speaking with the future Elarithian King.

Of course.

Aleksander was accompanied by an impeccably-dressed servant who held a beautiful weapon—a blade secured in a sheath of white and gold—which the future king was busy presenting and describing to my parents. A gift for them, I assumed.

He was the first to notice my approach. He tilted his head toward me, pausing his speech long enough to offer a small smile. My heart reacted just as it had in the garden—with an odd combination of desire and uncertainty.

The music around me slowed.

The world seemed to slow with it.

I could sense my parents’ eyes shifting my direction, the weight of their expectations growing heavier with each passing second. My chest tightened. It felt as if I was approaching the crux of this night—the moment that would divide my life and legacy intobeforeandafter.

Aleksander went back to addressing my parents. My pulse skipped several beats, wondering what other gifts he planned to lavish on my family and kingdom before the night was through. I wanted to hurry closer, to hear the ideas he had for his rule, for our alliance…

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