Page 16 of Steeling Light
~Countess Alyth Corvanne, A Visitor’s Guide to Selithar
Ainslee
The Hanging Gardens of Selithar is the most talked about attraction in the city. The first Count of Green built them to woo his future wife, and since then, the House of Green has devoted itself to ever expanding and taking care of them.
I’ve been here three times, none of which were my choice. My mother was an aristocrat of Selithar, and because of that, she and her children were expected at every noble event. Every time that the House of Green held one, it was held here for good reason. They’re beautiful.
Just like so many things in Selithar, the Hanging Gardens are pointless. They’re beauty for beauty’s sake. There’s a reason so many of the Lesser Houses are dismissed as unimportant.
“This place is wondrous,” Rhion says as we walk down a terraced stairway. Stone vines hang on either side, falling from the branches of the tallest tree I’ve ever seen. They are the definition of organized chaos, twisting and turning in a braided archway that frames the stone stairway. “I knew that this was called the Hanging Gardens, but I hadn’t understood why.”
His eyes take in the floating garden beds holding thousands of flowers, all of which climb the stone vines, clinging to them with thin tendrils. The archway continues for what seems like forever, a tunnel of life and color with a backdrop of verdant green. Lining the walls from the ground to the top of the arch fifteen feet above us are these flower beds.
“Each of the vines has a backbone of sorts,” I say, repeating the explanation my mother told me when I was three. “As the vine grows, only the new growth is pliable. The rest of the plant is frozen in place, that stone spine keeping it still and solid.” I reach out and move a bright green leaf, and it shifts as easily as any other. Then, I reach out and pull on one that has the slightest bit of gray running down the central vein, and it’s like trying to move a piece of granite.
“Fascinating,” Rhion says as he looks under one of the many planters. “And the recent growth is braided like this so that it’s not just a single vine. It’s dozens of them. It’s genius.”
“It’s tedious is what it is. These vines grow slowly, and it took years or maybe even decades to create just this archway.”
He smiles and shakes his head. “Slow isn’t bad, Ainslee. We aren’t human. We’ve been given this incredible immortal life. What’s a more valuable way to spend those years than to make something so wonderful? Look at it. It’s beautiful. This was a powerful man’s life work, and even after he died, many others have taken up the torch. He created a work that would live beyond him.”
This, from the Prince of Steel, the fourth most dangerous warrior in Nyth. “You’ve spent your life commanding armies and destroying things. I’m not even going to talk about the Shattering, but you’ve spent the last thousand years destroying or preparing to destroy things and people. How can you think that this is a worthwhile use of time? If an army were to stomp through here, it’d all be gone in a day. Then what would all of these lives have to show for their work?”
Rhion’s smile doesn’t fade, and when I stare into his gray eyes, I know I’m missing something. “They’d have memories. The people who came here before it was destroyed would remember it. The ones who wove these vines would remember their fragility. They’d know what they’d done, what wonders they’d achieved. More than that, though, they brought that wonder to how many people? The world changes, Ainslee. Things die. They’re destroyed. The beauty is that they ever existed because it means we can believe there’ll be new ones to replace the ones that are lost.”
He takes a petal of a yellow chrysanthemum between his thumb and index finger and sighs. “Look at this. This flower is beautiful in itself. This singular bloom is fragile enough that I could kill it by accidentally brushing against it too hard. Yet, it survives because of the caretakers of this place. How many things in the world would be better if there were more caretakers and fewer soldiers?”
He lets go of the flower and turns back to me, and I don’t really know what to say. He’s changed so much from the boy who wanted to be a powerful soldier. I guess all of us have, though.
“Come on. Show me the rest of the Gardens. I, for one, am very excited to see what other miraculous sights they’ve created here.”
He takes my hand in his, no different from when we were children. When we were young, he’d been confident, too. Not around Cole or Darian, but around me. He always felt like he could speak his mind, and I loved hearing his unique take on the world. No one else saw things the same way he did.
I follow him, and all our walks flash through my mind, but after each one, I keep seeing the faces of the people closest to me. The ones to whom I’ve pledged my loyalty, who have earned that loyalty. Darian. Cole. Maeve. What would they say if they saw this? What would they do if they saw me laughing and smiling with Rhion as we went on walks through flower gardens?
The House of Steel is at war with every other Great House. His soldiers, whom he trained, are going to be trying to kill my friends. If any of my friends and Rhion met on the battlefield, it would be a fight to the death.
He may take long walks with me through flower gardens, but he’s still actively working to ruin the world. I don’t totally blame him for his part in the Shattering since I played a part, and Cole certainly did as well. But we’re trying to fix the things that were broken. He isn’t.
And yet… everything inside me craves his laughter, his words, and his thoughts. We were best friends. Even more than me and Cole. While I will probably always have a closer bond to Darian than anyone else, Rhion was the one who made me smile the most.
The thoughts flood my mind, warring with each other as I pretend to care about the Hanging Gardens. We stop repeatedly to look at each garden bed. There’s a blue flower that hangs from the vines, its azure blooms dripping what I can only call liquid gold into a basin below it. Fireflies hide in the petals, flashing out at us when we get close. Iridescent moths glow with blues and greens, lighting the dark path with soft light that only makes the foliage more mysterious and beautiful.
Then we come to a pond. Shaped into a rose, each “petal” is a separate terrace with blooming lily pads. Underneath the lily pads, glowing fish swim, their flashing lights going in and out as they hide in the green leaves floating on the surface.
“I’m going to have one of these built in the Keep of Steel’s gardens when I become King,” he says, marveling at it. “I doubt it’d be nearly as tedious to grow as the arches.”
“Probably not. I don’t know anything about them.”
Silence lingers for a moment, and Rhion turns to me. His hands go to my shoulders, surprising me, and I noticeably flinch. He stops, his fingers a hair’s breadth from me, and for the first time, I see a true frown. “What’s going on, Ainslee? This place is wonderful, and it’s like you’re barely seeing it. You’re not talking like before. You’re… you’re existing. Not living.”
I don’t answer him, turning back to the pond. I stare at it, and he stares at me, his eyes taking everything about me in. He’s analyzing everything that’s happened since we started walking. He’s going through the words I’ve said, and he’s trying to puzzle it out.
“You’re reconsidering spending time with me, aren’t you?” he finally asks. “You’re thinking about Cole and Darian. Maybe even Cole’s Wyrdling.”
“Her name is Maeve,” I say softly. “And she’s a High Fae now, just like you.”
More silence. More fear and pain. I cried the day everything changed between us. I cried and cried and cried. Darian and my mother thought it was because I’d been afraid for Darian, and I had been. But Cole stepped in. He saved Darian, and I knew not to be afraid for Cole. He… he was Cole. Nothing and no one could really hurt him.
