Page 65 of Severed Heir

“Hello, Miss Blanche,” she said gently. “Lovely gown.”

“Thank you,” I murmured. “But please, call me Severyn.”

I crossed the garden slowly and knelt beside her. “What are you planting?”

She smiled, wiping her brow with the back of her wrist. “Mr. Lynch mentioned you liked flowers. So, I planted some. The gown you’re wearing—it’s made from petals.”

My gaze dropped to the soft pale purple fabric of my skirt. “Are those… hellebores?”

“It’s the only flower that survives the cold season,” she said, carefully plucking a pale bloom. “I heard they’re your favorite.”

“That, and roses,” she added. “But I used all of them for your titling gown. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

Amria’s catlike yellow eyes glinted as she leaned over the flowerbed, her cheeks hollowed in concentration. I imagined her family before their land turned barren, might have been dangerous. Poisonous, even. Like the student who had hurt Callum at the Serpent Bid.

I took the shovel from her and began placing bulbs into the loosened earth beside her. She hummed softly; it reminded me of Giesel’s song.

“Do you remember your home?” I asked. “Before it went barren?”

She blinked once. “I was young,” she said. “But I remember the day the Forgotten came. Mum pulled me back just before the snake struck. Then a basilisk killed my father and nearly half the village.”

Her voice faded as she tilted her head toward the sky. “It was like a gray smog. It cleansed the life from everything. The leaves lost their color. The canals dried. The air felt hollow.My land had many secrets. Most of them came to the surface in the days after the attack.”

She wiped a tear away and turned from me. But her voice remained steady. “This is my home now. And I’m one of the lucky ones, Severyn. I really am. They stripped the vibrancy from my land, but I gained it back. I create beauty with my hands.”

My throat tightened. “How do I forget mine?”

Her voice fell to a whisper. “You never wish to forget.”

She looked out across the valley, where stars danced over the lilac-streaked river, and her shoulders lifted. “You have a guest coming soon,” she said, tone brightening. “What color gown would you like? The dirt is a pretty shade. I could fix one up for you.”

I laughed. “Dirt?”

“Yes, dirt. He’ll think you’re humble and outdoorsy.”

“Amria, I’ll just wear something from my closet. You’ve already made me almost a dozen gowns.”

She leaned in, twirling her fingers like she was knitting the air. “Severyn, I have the quell of an artist. I can pull color from the sky and paint it into fabric.” She dragged a finger through the dirt, and shades of brown and umber bloomed across her skin. “Point to a star, and I’ll stitch you socks that glow just like it.”

I raised a hand, looked up at the sky, and picked one. “You know, I think Archer would love a pair of star-woven socks.”

Amria stood, brushing her hands on her apron. “The star of Antares,” she whispered. “The perfect birthday gift for him.”

“Birthday?”

“Yes. November 13th. Today is Archer’s birthday.”

I blinked. “It’s November 13th?”

“I know,” she said gently. “The darkness makes the days slip past without warning.”

“I don’t even know him,” I murmured, more to myself than to her. I didn’t even know his damn birthday.

Then a voice echoed inside me. That strange bond.“Did you miss me? That was quite a dinner party the other day.”

“Out,”I snarled through the bond, then exhaled sharply.“Who the hell are you?”

“Do not force me out again, Severyn. That was mean.”

---