Page 37 of A Storm of Fire and Ash
What was that?
“Anyway, you don’t want to go there. Nothing to see besides rats and old books forbidden from this kingdom,” she continued, her tone casual.
“Old books?” I inquired, curiosity tinging my voice.
“Mmhmm. Some aren’t even in a language we speak. Anyway, this way,” she gestured discreetly to the right as we moved through an archway, leaving the iron door behind.
I wondered why she was sharing so much with me. If she didn’t want me to go down there, she certainly wasn’t giving off that vibe.
As we stepped outside, a beautiful flower garden that I had no idea existed stood in front of us. There had been so much more of the castle I hadn’t seen. My breath hitched in my throat as I took in the gorgeous view.
The garden stretched wide beneath the afternoon sun, a quiet paradise tucked between the low hills and the soft sigh of a distant stream. Rows of flowers bloomed in brilliant color—violets, golds, deep reds, and soft blues—all swaying gently in a breeze perfumed with lavender and honeyed earth. Marble paths wound through the beds like ribbons, leading past stone fountains and shaded alcoves where ivy curled around carved benches.
“Wow,” was all I managed to say. The Queen unlocked our arms and walked to some lilies. She gracefully held the bloom in her fingers and bent down to smell it.
Beyond the garden walls, the land rolled gently into vineyards. Lush green vines clung to the hillsides in tidy rows, heavy with clusters of deep purple grapes that shimmered under the sun’s gaze. The cool autumn air was filled rich with the scent of ripening fruit and sweet blossoms. Bees drifted lazily between petals. Everything felt still, and slow, and golden—like time had forgotten to pass here.
“This is my oasis. I come here almost daily,” she remarked, leading the way down a winding path. I followed closely, taking in the vibrant colors around me. My fingers brushed softly against the velvety petals of the roses, their fragrance wrapping around me.
“It is stunning. I can see why you like to come here.”
The Queen smiled down at me, “You may come here anytime you like. The castle is basically yours now.”
My eyes quickly searched hers. “What do you mean?” I asked, confused.
“Sit,” The Queen gestured to a bench near some hydrangeas, and we both took a seat. Like clockwork, Sivkaappeared holding a tray with two teacups and a steaming pot of tea. She set them down on a small table next to the Queen. “Thank you, Sivka. You are free to go,” the Queen smiled, and Sivka bowed her head. Before leaving, she glanced at me quickly and smirked.
I wasn’t sure if that was welcoming or not…
The Queen poured tea in both cups and handed me one. I took it, thanking her.
“My son is thirty, as you are aware,” she said. I took a tentative sip of the steaming tea. The bitterness lingered on my tongue, but the honey swirled within softened it enough to swallow. I gulped down a few large mouthfuls, desperate for something to occupy me as unease settled in the pit of my stomach.
She continued, “He cannot be King without a Queen.” I nearly choked on my drink, the warmth suddenly turning constricting. The Queen’s hand found my back, her touch both calming and unnerving. “I wish for you to marry him, Elara.”
Her words hung in the air, thick with expectation. “The King disagrees because you do not originate from royalty,” she continued, her posture regal as she folded her hands in her lap. “Yet my son and I are not bound by tradition,” she emphasized, her gaze steady. “I desire for him to wed for love, not for politics. And you, my dear, have undoubtedly captured his heart.”
I struggled to process what she was saying. Did the Prince want to marry me? Me, a nobody...
Thoughts collided within my mind like a storm, each one more frenetic than the last.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I managed to say.
“You needn’t say anything. Just marry the prince and be his Queen. It’s quite simple,” she chuckled, still holding her tea. I noticed she hadn’t taken a single sip.
Suddenly, my body started to sway, almost as if I was intoxicated. I didn’t mind the feeling. Thinking about the prince had me feeling giddy. My heart pounded in my chest, and my cheeks flushed as I thought about his strong hands and how good he was with his tongue. I squeezed my legs tightly for friction as I started to ache between my legs. I shifted my weight, feeling how soaked I was. I suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable feeling this way and sitting with the Queen.
I needed Fintan. Or perhaps, Makar.I thought to myself. Honestly, I would’ve pounced on either of them if they stood in front of me and I’d beg them to fuck me.
What in the Hel is wrong with me?
Feeling embarrassed from the rush of feelings, I took another large sip of the warm liquid. The tea was bitter. Not the kind that came from over-steeped leaves or forgotten heat—but deep, clinging bitterness that coated my tongue and lingered at the back of my throat. It tasted of bark and dry roots, sharp and astringent, with a faint metallic aftertaste that made my jaw tighten. I took the last sip, not wanting to be rude, and this time I savored it, letting the flavors unfold.
I closed my eyes.
Angelica root.
Red raspberry leaf.
