Page 46 of Wicked Prince of Shadows
The Queen's Garden lay in ruins.
Massive cracks split through the marble steps, some wide enough that I could see straight through to the tier below. The elegant terraces had fractured in jagged lines, creating treacherous gaps where once there had been smooth stone. Several of the upper planters had toppled entirely, their contents spilled across the stairs in dark rivers of soil.
"Maker, save us," I whispered, my hand flying to my mouth.
But even amid the devastation, the plants had grown. Not just a little—they had surged forward with impossible vigor. The small trees I'd tended yesterday now stood nearly twice their height, their branches heavy with fruit. Vines cascaded down the broken terraces in thick curtains of ash-grey leaves. Even the planters that had cracked and spilled were thriving, their roots spreading across the marble like grasping fingers.
I picked my way down the damaged stairs, testing each step before putting my full weight on it. A massive split ran through the center landing, and I had to jump across a gap that showed the tier below. My heart hammered as I landed on the other side.
"Careful," Vetle said from behind me, his voice tight.
"I'm fine." But my voice shook as I surveyed the damage. Nearly every planter bore some damage. “What happens to the plants when the rest…comes back together at midnight?”
“The primary risk is that in the process of mending the planters and architecture that it will crush or pinch the plants,” he said. “If there is time, it would be wise to maneuver the plants in such a way that the restoration is easy when the magic comes into effect, but there could be other quakes today.” His hand brushed against my elbow. “Are you all right? Your work has been damaged.”
I shook my head, though the sight of the damaged garden made my chest ache. "It's not about my work. It's about all of you surviving this." I turned to look at him fully, squaring my shoulders despite the tremor in my hands. "We can fix this. We have to."
His expression softened, something flickering in those amber eyes that I couldn't quite name. Before he could respond, footsteps echoed on the landing above us.
"Your Majesty!" Maltric appeared at the top of the stairs, his embroidered charcoal robes billowing as he descended with surprising agility for someone who looked so ancient. Doctor Rasoul followed close behind, curly hair tied snug against the back of his neck. Both navigated the broken steps to reach us and bowed as soon as they arrived.
"Maltric. Rasoul." Vetle's voice shifted, taking on a sterner, more commanding tone as he faced them. "Thank you for coming so quickly."
Maltric reached us first, his silver eyes sweeping across the ruined garden with obvious dismay. He frowned, the stitches along his temple pulling tight. "The damage is worse than I feared. The eastern expansion?—"
"Will be dealt with," Vetle interrupted. "Right now, we have a more pressing matter." He gestured to me, and I felt heat creep up my neck as both men turned their full attention my way. "Sabine has proposed a solution to our predicament, but it will require some additional consultation."
Doctor Rasoul's eyebrows lifted. “I am intrigued, Your Majesty.”
Vetle explained the plan. Though Maltric frowned, Doctor Rasoul bowed once more. “If my blood may be of service, then I offer it freely. But my magic and skill are in medicine, not plants.”
“It may take it longer to show the proof,” Maltric conceded. “But the truth should show regardless.” His silver eye gleamed, but his jaw worked. “Perhaps it would not be amiss for us to examine all the translations and work that have been gathered on this topic. Perhaps there is something that we missed. A few of the ideograms are especially difficult to translate with certainty.”
“How likely is it that the transcriptions you have could have been corrupted or mistranslated?” I asked.
Maltric removed his monocle and polished it. “It’s always possible. The only certain way to free everyone here is to condemn some other kingdom to the same fate. But with the rate of the chasm’s expansion and the cycle’s decay, they wouldn’t have any chance at all. Sabine certainly qualifies as an innocent?—”
“There’s a solution other than that,” Vetle responded sternly.
Maltric cleared his throat. “Your Majesty, may we speak in private?”
I tensed at Maltric's words, my fingers curling into the wool wrap. The request for privacy hung in the air like a threat, and I knew exactly what he intended to suggest. That Vetle sacrifice me to save everyone else.
"No," Vetle said flatly. "Whatever you have to say, you may say it in front of Sabine."
Maltric's silver eyes flicked to me, then back to Vetle. His lips pressed into a thin line. "Your Majesty, I understand your reluctance, but we must consider all options. The chasm is expanding faster than anticipated. If we wait too long?—"
"We won’t be discussing that option," Vetle interrupted, his voice sharp enough to cut. "Sabine has offered a viable alternative, and we will pursue it."
"But if it fails—" Maltric began.
"Then we find another way." The finality in Vetle's tone left no room for argument. His wings shifted, the skeletal frames catching the pale morning light. "Now, are you going to help us or continue wasting time?"
Doctor Rasoul stepped forward, breaking the tense silence as he lifted his hands. "I believe what Maltric is trying to express, albeit poorly, is concern for the timeline. If we pursue this course and it proves unsuccessful, we may not have time for alternatives." His gaze softened as it landed on me. "But I agree with His Majesty. We should exhaust every option before considering..." He trailed off.
“The inscriptions and translations should be studied as well,” Vetle said. “Comb over them again and see if there is anything that may have been missed. If it turns out that being made a royal through the operation of law rather than something innate does not work, then we will not have much time to consider another plan.”
Maltric's gaze cut to me, then back to Vetle. "Your Majesty, I must insist we speak privately. There are matters of state that require?—"
