These Gilded Seas

Chapter Twenty-Two: Divine Intervention

Between cleaning and Amaia's initial tour, I've seen every corner of the palace. The most secluded closets where jackets hang, collecting dust, and the popular rooms where plush velvet seats sit, worn to bare threads. I've even climbed to the tip of the tallest tower and seen where the doves nest. Thanks to Eero, I've even seen the training field at the very edge of the grounds.

But the garden is one place I've never been able to explore. There's never been any spare time, and upkeep outside the palace isn't my job. There's a thrill of excitement in my chest, buried deep under the weight of what I'm about to do.

A stone pathway stretches out in front of me, curling out of sight under a canopy of branches. Not a single artificial light mars the tranquil scene; instead, the way is lit by tiny fireflies, blinking out their messages to other insects. They float lazily between the vines hanging over the stones and through the moonlight trickling like a slow trellis of water.

Keeping my dagger close to my chest, I follow the barest illumination through the growth. The beauty of the vines and moonlight is enough to take my breath away, but there's also flowers everywhere. Silver light catches on clusters of pink blossoms. Purple bursts of short, thin flowers stretch towards the sky, shielding shorter white and yellow blooms. Some plants I can name—like the ferns that reach long arms over the spotless pathway and the roses that grow in segregated groups of red, yellow, pink, and white. But others, I have no idea what they are.

The names mean nothing, but suddenly, I wish Sam was here to tell me all about them. I'd rather listen to his heavy accent than be assaulted by the silence and all that comes with it. My guilt can't be pushed away by scenery, no matter how beautiful or serene.

A gentle sound reaches my ears as I walk further into the darkness. I recognize it instantly. Water. A shallow creek, maybe, moving over stones. My body seeks the moisture without being told to, led by the magic coursing through my veins.

What I find is a small stream cutting through the hidden underbrush. In the daylight, I would have seen it long ago, but in the dark, it's near invisible. Little orange and white fish dart through the water, and smaller, nearly translucent minnows zip around them. I kneel on the pebble-covered bank and dip my hand.

It's cold, colder than I expected anyway, but it still feels good on my fingers. The fish swim back after their rapid retreat and nibble happily on my skin. They must sense the Divine's presence. My magic buzzes happily in response.

Honestly, I could stay like this for the rest of the night. Playing with fish, watching fireflies, smelling flowers, tracing constellations... It would be all too comfortable, all too familiar.

But with every passing minute, the knot in my stomach swells bigger. I can't stay, even though I really want to.

Pushing up, I flick the water off my fingers and sigh.

"Bye, friends," I whisper. The little fish circle the ripples I created when the water fell from my fingers. Then, when the surface settles, they swim away. Their absence leaves a gaping hole in my chest.

Will I ever make it back home? Will I ever get to swim with the fish again? To race dolphins and pet jellyfish?

Maybe. If I can kill this prince.

I readjust my grip on my dagger and start walking again, keeping my steps quiet. The flowers thicken and fill the air with a heady perfume. When the path splits, I choose the left, figuring I can circle back if it comes to a dead end.

The first hint that I'm not alone comes in the form of the jangling of keys. Then, heavy footfalls crashing through decaying leaves. Then, soft whispers.