This is all my fault, she thought. There was nobody else to blame but herself. If she hadn't given herself to him the night before, she might have had more time to find a way out of this situation entirely. Now she had done the complete opposite, digging herself a deeper hole than ever before.
"Do I really want to get out of this?" she asked herself aloud.
"Want to do what, my lady?" The question, raised by one of her guards, brought with it the realization that he had poked his head through the grapevine archway and he was gazing at her with concern.
She quickly shook her head, mentally shaking herself out of her self-pity before she forced herself to her feet. Her knees trembled so badly that she feared she wouldn't be able to walk, but when she placed one foot in front of the other, she didn't topple over the edge of the cliff. She was more than a little relieved to be away from it, passing under the archway.
"I wish to return to my rooms," she announced to the guards, and they began to follow her like obedient dogs as she began to make her way back through the gardens in the direction of her own chambers. Where Ember had gone, she couldn't be sure, but one thing she was certain of was that she didn't want to run into him. The sooner she returned to her chambers the better.
The further she walked, the faster her feet carried her. By the time she came to the hallway where her chambers lay, she was struggling not to run. Already she felt as though everyone she passed was watching her, judging her as if they all knew what had happened in the gardens and even the night before in the king's chambers.
By the time she reached her room, her skin was crawling and her wings ached with the urge to carry her off into the air. She slammed the door shut in the faces of her guards and leaned back against the cool wood, panting for breath with her eyes closed.
Never had she felt so out of control, not even when her father had traded her to Lord Perivale.
The only thing holding her up seemed to be the door, and she placed her palms flat against it, trying to ground herself with the feel of wood beneath her skin.
Again, she asked herself what the hell she had gotten herself into, asking the fae gods how they had allowed her to become so foolish.
When she had calmed enough to open her eyes again, they were drawn to a vase on the table at the end of her bed. It most definitely had not been there before, and neither had the blue-purple wildflowers that were resting in it.
Cautiously, she stepped forward, inching closer and closer until the floral scent of them hit her nostrils. They were quite possibly the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen. Though she wasn't sure what they were, she admired the heart shaped petals and deep splashes of purple that dotted the otherwise cornflower blue petals. She reached forward and took one of the flower heads delicately between her fingertips to turn it for a closer look, only to hear something drop from the bouquet onto the surface of the table.
Startled, she stepped back and caught sight of the parchment that had fallen on the table. With a trembling hand, she picked it up and read the note, written in the most beautiful cursive:
Iris,
I found these in the garden. They reminded me of your eyes and so I thought it only right that you should have them.
Ember
Though the note was not overly romantic, it caused Iris's heart to skip a beat and a smile to spread across her face. The pastime of picking wildflowers seemed so far beneath a king that she almost couldn't imagine it, and yet here the flowers were with a note to prove that a king had indeed completed such a task.
He picked wildflowers for me, she thought dreamily. She leaned over and placed her nose close to the flowers, breathing in their sweet, floral scent. Such a gesture meant so much more to her than any ring a man might have thrown at her and yet she still couldn't stop the fear that clawed at her insides. How was she ever supposed to know what the king truly felt for her? How was she supposed to know that she wasn't simply a toy he would grow bored of and throw away? Even a wife could be lonely and overlooked.
For now, she would try not to think about it. Instead, she picked up the vase and carried it over to the archway window where she placed it on a different table in more direct sunlight.
She stood there, gazing out over the side of the mountain once more. Though the landscape was seen from a slightly different angle here than it had been from the gardens, it was still breathtaking, and Iris allowed herself a moment just to stand and appreciate it.
That was where she was standing when she heard footsteps coming from the adjoining sitting room. The drapes were pulled back from the archway and Pria stepped in, only to gasp and clutch at her chest as Iris glanced over her shoulder at her. Remembering herself, Pria quickly dropped down into a curtsey, "My lady, forgive me. I did not realize you had returned."
Iris paid her little mind, only offering her a simple nod of understanding before turning her gaze back to the landscape. She was still in too much shock to hold a conversation and perhaps even a little annoyed with her maid. After all, if she hadn't overheard her maids talking, she might never have felt the need to go to the king's chambers the night before.
Perhaps I should be thanking her, she thought. After all, she wouldn't be getting married at the end of the week if not for her.
She sensed rather than saw the maid scurry about the room to do whatever job she had intended to, but she did not look over her shoulder again when she felt her stop in the center of the room. She could feel the maid watching her silently and she flinched when the young woman suggested, "By the end of the week, you'll rule over all of that and more."
Iris didn't need to look to know that she had gestured to the landscape outside the palace. All the isle that spread out before her belonged to King Ember.
"I will never rule," Iris shook her head, resigning herself to the fact that although she would be his wife, she would never be a queen. I am a slave, and slaves cannot be queens.
Deep down inside she also thought, news travels fast.
At least she could be certain of one thing. If even her maid knew of Ember's intentions, he had to have meant them.
Another thrill of excitement and a crashing wave of anxiety swept over her. By the end of the week, she would be married to the King of the Spring Isle.
Chapter 14 - Ember