Page 114 of Forged By Heart and Claws
Briar
Afew days after accepting the role of High Queen, I stepped beneath an arched trellis, the vines brushing my shoulders like a welcome. My wings brushed the tops of my shoulders and then caressed Vad’s as we followed the black and gold mosaic path through his mother’s garden. After all the darkness, terror, and pain of the past weeks, this garden was a beautiful reprieve.
Thalen had asked us to meet him in the Night Butterfly Circle, and Vad and I had agreed we wanted a few minutes alone, for ourselves, before we met with him.
Moonlight spilled over the stone tiles, turning the white flowers silver. The crimson water of the fountain shimmered like spilled wine. Every breath I drew carried the scent of crushed petals and wet earth, heavy with memory. Even without knowing the significance of it, I could sense that this was a sacred place. Vad and I needed to reclaim this sanctuary since the many days ahead of us would be full of so many decisions, compromises, and considerations.
Vad glanced at me and sighed. “My mother loved this place. She often weeded and tended the flowers herself. Especially hermoon lilies. She loved the way their blossoms transformed with the moon. They open for only about an hour, around midnight.”
“That’s quite specific.” I smiled. It amused me how flowers like dandelions could grow through concrete while others like roses could be such divas. “Do you like moon lilies too?”
“Only because they remind me of her.” His smile curved a little higher, though there was sadness in it. “I’ve always been neutral about flowers.”
The white marble fountain rose ahead of us, veined with time and hints of silver. Water spilled in slow, rippling streams from the fluted spouts, the sound soft and endless. The red shimmered like garnet in the moonlight, rich and strange and oddly peaceful, a sharp contrast to the black lilies, lavender peonies, and silver roses. Numerous paper-barked trees stretched toward the sky, their thin leaves rustling in the gentle wind.
His father had been murdered on the other side of the fountain. The blood had been scrubbed away, but the memory hung heavy over us. That day, our entire world had changed.
Vad stopped at the edge of the fountain and peered beyond it to that place. His silhouette was tall and still, his wings slightly unfurled behind him. The breeze stirred the dark strands of his hair.
I frowned as I studied him. Something was bothering him, and it went deeper than the memory.
“The one thing that still troubles me is his final word. You’re certain that it was lilies, and not lily?” He tilted his head as his shadows pooled around us. One tendril wrapped around my calf and stroked down to my ankle.
“I’m certain.” I folded my arms as I studied him through the link. Something really had him unsettled.
“Hmm.” He hummed. “Part of me wondered if perhaps he was saying it was Calla Lily. But it was Colm. And…well, hername was Calla Lily. Not lilies. That isn’t the sort of mistake he would make even while dying.”
Since ithadbeen plural, maybe he’d meant the lilies themselves. I moved to the other side of the fountain and examined the lilies growing there. It might be foolish, but if there was a chance of discovering something, I’d take it. “Since he did say lilies, plural, we can try to figure out the meaning.”
My fingers brushed one of the lilies. Its petals were slick but soft, its scent undercut with something similar to jasmine and so delicate I had missed it the last time I was here. My throat tightened. “These are so beautiful. Your mother took great pride in this place.”
“She did,” he said softly as he joined me.
I turned toward him, taking in the way the moonlight touched his face. It highlighted the faint shadows beneath his eyes and the tension still held in his jaw. He was whole, but not untouched. None of us were.
I focused back on the lilies because, even though we’d survived, something still haunted him.
I spotted something different… a small shape glinting in the midst of a thick section of the flowers. “What’s this?” Leaning forward, I picked it up. It was a fancy button.
Vad’s brow creased as he studied the button. He took it from me, and sadness washed over him.
A memory hit me, one I’d forgotten. “Wait. Your father’s coat was missing a button that night. I noticed one had been ripped off when I woke from being knocked out.”
“It is from his formal surcoat.” Vad tilted his head. “He never would’ve worn it if it had been missing one when he put it on. He’d have been embarrassed.”
“Could he have yanked it from his jacket and tossed it into the lilies when he was facing down Colm?”
Vad flipped it over and looked at the back, which was made of leather. A simple three-lined mark marred it.
Confusion swirled between us as Vad’s brows pinched together. “This is…it’s not a message about his killer at all. This is the mark my family has used for generations to indicate love and the importance of family. For so many years, I was certain Father blamed me for Mother’s death.”
“It wasn’t your fault, and I can’t believe he blamed you. It was obvious to me that he loved you.” I put a hand on his arm, wishing I could erase his pain.
His hand covered mine, his fingers warm against my skin. “He never said it in so many words. And the silence felt like condemnation. Especially when…I should have known. How could he not blame me? She was out there because of me.”
I’d started to respond when Vyraetos appeared on the other side of the fountain. “Of course he didn’t blame you, Your Majesty. He was quite protective of you both. He never wanted us to ever say anything that might make you believe your mother’s death was your fault because it wasn’t. I suppose he hoped that, if it wasn’t discussed, you wouldn’t feel that way. What you saw was a grief so deep and so profound that it was difficult for him to even function. But you should know he loved you and your sister dearly, even if he did not speak of it.”
Vad's grip on my hand tightened, his shadows rippling outward like disturbed water. A wave of emotion coursed through our bond—shock, grief, and relief all tangled together in a knot so tight my chest ached in sympathy. “I?—”
