Chapter One

Wandering fingers traced the neckline of my silk bodice. I half-heartedly pushed them away, but Deric pulled me closer in protest.

“Stop that, I have to go soon… I-I need to get ready,” I stammered as calloused hands continued to roam, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He murmured in my ear, “You’re not presenting yourself until this evening—we still have time.” I felt his teeth against my throat as he nipped me playfully, before kissing his way to my mouth.

For a month now, we’d savored the rush of sneaking about. Currently, we were in an abandoned stall in the stables. His lips met mine and my resolve wavered. My body was desperate to go there, to feel his skin against mine, but I wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow it.

I groaned in self-pity as I shoved him off. “No, Deric—I came here to end this. Starting tonight, I’m a bargaining chip for the Crown. I can’t afford to be debauched by my stable hand.” I stepped away from him, fluffing my heavy skirts before smoothing them down.

“Marigold, please. Don’t do this. Fuck the Crown—run away with me. We can pave our own path. I’ll provide for you, keep you safe. I promise to make it worth it…” His fingers brushed along my cheek, tucking golden strands behind my ear. “The only thing that separates us is a few layers of clothing and your title. We don’t need them.” His blue eyes pierced right through me as he waited for my answer, while I gathered the courage to break his heart.

“You know that I don’t care that you aren’t of noble birth,” I told him. “Society, on the other hand, does. The Queen, the advisors—they do. I’m only one person… there’s nothing I can do to change the rules of an entire empire. Of course, it’s tempting to shirk my responsibilities, to run away with you. But I can’t. Please don’t seek me out again.” I didn’t shy away from his gaze. He needed to understand that this was over. But his eyes… his smile… they had disarmed me. They always did.

I was a debutante, officially eligible for marriage as of this evening. There could be no more rocks thrown at my window.

Deric pulled his hand from my cheek like I’d burned him with my cold response. I hated hurting him, but a sterile slice was the kindest way to cut him. I lifted my chin and set my mouth into a thin, determined line.

“You live such a sheltered life,” he said. “You have no idea what lies beyond these castle walls—what you’re giving up by letting them mold you into what they want you to be. I could show you so much more—”

“I will miss this,” I interrupted. “And I’ll miss you. Please don’t beg for something that I can’t give you.” I looked at him with pleading eyes. Don’t make this harder than it already is.

“Very well. Enjoy your duty. I hope it keeps your bed warm.” His face was etched in pain, so I let the jab slide. I came closer to him, allowing him time to push me away, but he didn’t move as I clasped my arms around his neck.

I gave him one last kiss—a thank you for keeping my loneliness at bay… if only for a short time. It was sweet and tender, as he had been to me—always willing to take any scrap I gave him. He deserved more.

He didn’t see me break down as I flew back to my gilded cage. Once I was forced to marry, my wings would be permanently clipped, and the bittersweet memories of Deric—of what could've been—would fade until forgotten.

***

I stood at my window, peering down at the crowded courtyard below. I tried my best to push Deric from my mind, but a melancholy dread sat hard in the pit of my stomach. He represented all the things I’d never have: Freedom, choice, love. It made me wonder… what was the point of life, if I wasn’t allowed to live?

A kaleidoscope of colors danced to no particular beat, as people exited carriages, greeted each other, and made their way into Aurelius Castle. It was May 1st—the official start of social season. It was also the day that I, and other young women, would be displayed like prized pigs ripe for the butcher at the formal Debut. A day when aristocrats came from all over the country to court each other—to judge each other.

Thea, my lady’s maid, was tightening my corset while I watched the circus unfold below. I held my breath like a fat pony resisting the synch of the saddle as she pulled at the laces. A loud-trumpeting sound pierced the air as Royal blue peacocks performed their mating call on the straw-thatched roof of the stables, oblivious to the people below. They were too focused on announcing their presence to the peahens to be bothered with such trivial matters.

I noted the parallels between the heavily costumed noblemen and the birds that defied laws of survival, with their extravagant tail feathers and bright plumage. Impractical courtship rituals were not confined to one species, it seemed.

I’d been in those very stables earlier today, ending the only courtship I’d ever known. All said and done, it hadn’t added up to much—a few stolen kisses, whispered conversations while we laid in the haystacks, and empty promises we both knew we couldn’t keep. I’d wanted to give him all of me, but it was a risk I couldn’t afford to take; my body was not mine to give away. It belonged to the Crown and always would. The thought had me clenching my jaw in simmering frustration.

A sea of vivid textiles shimmered in the sunlight below: Pink silk, blue satin, yellow chiffon. I looked for other women wearing white, closely followed by their chaperones—the other debutantes. We would present ourselves to the Queen today in a ceremony that welcomed us into society.

Deric would be mucking out stalls, while I was ogled by men with moral fiber as weak as their chins. In Aurelius, being a gentleman had nothing to do with gentility. I’d found that the crudest men were often the richest ones, born with so much privilege that they became aimless and cruel; as if acquiring wealth through lineage instead of labor had stunted their growth.

I was pulled out of my head when I realized Thea was talking to me. “M’lady, today is an important day for you. Society will be waiting for you to slip up. I know that parties have been difficult since your mother passed, but I have no doubt you’ll shine tonight… as long as you behave yourself. Don’t you dare dirty your gown before the Debut. Don’t go to the stables, don’t walk on any muddy trails, stay away from the lake—better yet, don’t even go outside.”

I held back a grin. We were a perfect pair; she enjoyed treating me like an unruly wildling, while I found endless joy in tormenting her.

She fastened my petticoat before I rushed over to my four-poster bed, where my debutante gown sat—sprawled out and freshly pressed. In a fit of impulsivity, I grabbed the dress and tossed it over my head, mussing my up-do and nearly getting tangled in the layers. I wasn’t in a hurry to get to the Ball, but rather was grasping for control, wherever I could find it.

Thea waved her arms frantically, clucking at me like a puffed-up hen. Silver curls frizzed out from under her frilly mobcap, as she put her hands on her hips and glared at me. “You! You have no appreciation for my time and effort!”

I stopped moving so she could get the rest of my ensemble on. A white satin dress hugged my hourglass figure before fanning out into a bell shape around my lower half. Between the ruffles, pearls, lace trim, and tulle, I looked like an overly frosted wedding cake.

“You look lovely, dear,” Thea insisted, eyes glistening. Deric would’ve laughed his ass off had he seen me.

I glanced in the mirror as she fixed my flattened curls. My hair was the shade of antique gold. If King Midas himself had touched my head as an infant, I would’ve believed it. I’d never seen the hair color on anyone else except my mother. It was my favorite feature, especially when it was free and wild with loose waves running down my back. Unfortunately, my tresses were currently being held captive in an elaborate, pinned-up coiffure that was so tight, my temples were throbbing.

Dark brown doe-eyes, thick black lashes, and a nose that gently curved down towards heart-shaped lips stared back at me as I took in my reflection. I frowned at the dusting of seasonal freckles that showed up in the warmer months, making me look younger than I was.

I was shorter and curvier than most aristocratic women, but I didn’t spend much time fixating on appearances. I wasn’t above it, I just found looks to be the least interesting thing about a person. Maybe I’d change my tune when I went downstairs and was swept off my feet by a line of eligible bachelors. Maybe they’d all be so charming, their looks would be the only thing to distinguish them by. I laughed out loud to keep from crying, earning a worried look from Thea.

Having observed these events for years, I knew better. Everyone at court seemed to have the same interests. Men partook in hunting, drinking and fighting, while most women gravitated towards gossip and shopping for next season’s gowns. I’d tried to fit in for a while, but had finally accepted that I was simply different.

I yearned for novelty—for adventure. I spent most of my spare time escaping into novels that took me to faraway lands filled with pirates and dragons. If I wasn’t reading, I was riding my horse, Najma. She made better company than most humans and riding was one of the few activities I was allowed to participate in.

When galloping through open fields, wind whipping my hair into knots, I could outrun the feelings that bit at my heels. I woke up most mornings with the weight of responsibility heavy on my chest. I spent most of my time learning how to fit into a role that I hadn’t been born for. No amount of etiquette lessons could tame my wild spirit.

I floated through most days feeling comfortably numb, tucked away from anything considered dangerous or too exciting for a lady’s delicate constitution. I could count on one hand the amount of people I cared for and who cared for me. Each gathering at the castle reminded me that sometimes the loneliest place to be was in a crowded room.

But then, I’d met Deric. It had been a slow burn of glances and accidental hand brushes until one day, as he was saddling up Najma, I'd kissed him in a moment of bravery.

I grimaced as I recalled how I'd recklessly thrown myself at him, only to break things off a short while later. It had been selfish—impulsive. I'd risked his job and my reputation. It was over, I reminded myself. We hadn’t been caught. Now it was time for me to grow up and accept my fate.

We all had to play the cards we were dealt. I knew my hand could’ve been much worse. Some people fantasized about living in a castle and playing dress up. They wouldn’t mind the mindless banter—the rules and restraints that came with being niece to the Queen. Unfortunately, I had an aversion to small talk, loathed stuffy traditions, and hated parties. I was indisputably ill-suited to be the successor to the throne.

I descended the stairs to the formal ballroom, searching for any familiar faces in the steadily growing crowd below. The room was ornately decorated with tapestries of cerulean blue and silver—the royal colors. Centuries worth of ancient art hung from the walls, while handwoven rugs brought warmth to the stone floors. It was always a beautiful space, but today it was breathtaking. Fresh flowers covered every surface. The smell of lilac and gardenia lingered, filling my nose with their sticky, sweet scent. The heat of the room hit me next. There were too many bodies cloistered together. I already needed fresh air.

Royal families hovered around each other like hummingbirds searching for nectar. I had no interest in pollinating, so I avoided eye contact and stuck to the shadows. I needed to find Cara. She’d act as a shield until my debut.

I made my way to the refreshments table in hopes of finding something stronger than lemonade. I was old enough to drink, but the chaperones buzzed around unmarried women like vultures scavenging for the latest scandal. Most people born into nobility considered any form of work below them; instead, they filled their time with gossip and superfluous societal rules. Ladies were allotted one glass of watered down wine at social gatherings. Men could drink as much as they wanted and be as vulgar and loud as they pleased.

Before I had the chance to find my friend, one of Queen Ophelia’s personal guards appeared at my side, wearing a crisp blue uniform. “Lady Ellesmere, Queen Ophelia has requested your presence.”

Chapter Two

I strode into the opulent throne room, trying my best to look like I belonged. Portraits of long dead Kings and Queens stared lifelessly down at me. It felt as if they were judging me, hissing, “imposter,” as I slinked by. And they were right, I didn’t belong here. I hadn’t been born in the castle, but instead had been abandoned here. My father had left the night of Mama’s death, never to return.

My throat tightened when I thought of him. I didn’t know if he’d ever remarried—if he had other children. If he thought of me, he’d never bothered to let me know.

Ophelia had always treated me like a daughter. The only thing that came before me was her Kingdom. She’d taken the throne when King Hadrian died of a heart attack, years before I’d been born. While the council had strongly encouraged her to remarry and take a consort, she never had.

She might’ve been the only woman in Aurelius with any real power, and yet she was still bound to the rules of society. Like a hobbled horse, her freedom was an illusion. She believed that all people were born equal under the gods, but the mostly male council disagreed. They believed that certain people were inherently better than others—that greatness was passed down through blood. And I believed that they’d say and do anything to justify their greed.

I glanced around the room, noting the golden bronze statues of mythical creatures that lined the walls. They always caught my eye. As a child I would hide in here, staring at  them for hours, pretending I was one of them.

A Sphinx, Unicorn, Dragon, Pooka, Phoenix, and Hydra all stood frozen in place, ferocious expressions on their face, as they protected the Queen. The stewards of the gods—the Chosen Six. They kept harmony between all beings. People occasionally prayed to them, but they were mostly just legend now, much like the gods. I bowed to the statue closest to Ophelia—a Sphinx, known for its wisdom—then towards her. I’d been performing this ritual for as long as I could remember.

“You look angelic, Marigold. Although, I must say, seeing you in white gives me heart palpitations after years of watching you muddy your dresses.” She smiled with a twinkle in her eye.

“I haven’t done that in years!” I laughed. “But you’re right. White is a bold choice where I’m concerned.”

“And how the years have flown by. It has been my greatest joy, watching you bloom. I’ll get emotional if I think on it for too long.” She, indeed, looked close to tears—an incredibly rare event. She made a point of never looking weak. I was tempted to remind her that I was the one who should be crying—that I had to go mingle with tedious twits for the rest of the evening. But I bit my tongue, because I knew she was missing my mother… as was I.

Mama had died on my tenth birthday; today was the anniversary of her death. Whenever I turned a year older, I was reminded how many years it had been since I became motherless. Eleven.

“I wanted to wish you a happy birthday before the festivities begin and obligation sweeps me away. I know this day, in particular, is hard for you." My aunt stepped off her throne and approached me, her cobalt velvet gown trailing behind her like a snaking river. Salt and pepper hair blended with the silver of her crown, making the sapphire gems embedded in the head-piece glow like a halo.

Rays of sunshine spilled in from large windows, highlighting her olive skin. She looked so much like Mama in this light. The same slanted brown eyes, wide smile, and oval face. She brought me in for a deep hug and whispered, “I’m so proud of you for facing your fears today.”

I leaned into the embrace, soaking it in. Ophelia loved me; she’d shown it in a million tiny ways—providing for me, giving me the best education, spending quality time with me, even when she was busy. But this form of affection—hugging—I could count on one hand how many times this had happened. She was cerebral, often stuck in her own head. It was an adjustment at first, compared to my overly-affectionate, excitable mother.

Gods, I missed her warmth. Her hugs. Her passion.

Ophelia pulled back and took a small trinket from her pocket. “A birthday gift. This was your mother’s. It’s an important piece of jewelry. I’ve been keeping it safe until you came of age.” She held up a thin gold chain. There was a single square charm that hung from it, displaying the sigil of the gods, a six-pointed star.

Six was sacred to all: we had six royal advisors, six continents, six kingdoms, and six gods. The number was believed to be lucky—blessed by the once mighty gods. Despite the crumbling temples that sat abandoned across Erador—decaying proof of dwindling faith—some customs remained.

Like most people, I rarely turned to the gods in times of need. In fact, I had a bad habit of using their names in vain. According to Thea, I’d only have myself to blame, when I was inevitably struck by lightning. Ophelia and her most faithful followers still honored them as if they were real; therefore, I could recite their names in my sleep: Siva, Goddess of Water. Aku, God of Shadow. Cyro, God of Fire. Beira, Goddess of Ice. Terra, Goddess of Earth. Alya, Goddess of Wind. Together, the gods ruled and protected Erador.

“Your mother wore this necklace every day until she left us. I know she’d want you to do the same. A symbol, to keep her close to you.” Ophelia gave me a sad smile. She took my hand in hers, passing me the necklace. It was warm to the touch, as if she’d just taken it off.

I held back tears as I squeezed her tight. “Thank you for keeping it safe all these years. I remember seeing it on her. I’d assumed it had been buried with her.” I turned away, not wanting to remember the details of Mama’s funeral. My father hadn’t attended.

She helped me clasp the necklace and centered the pendant on my chest. Her voice dropped low as she whispered, “Marigold, there are things I need to tell you… now that you’ve come of age—secrets I’ve kept to protect you and the realm. It’s time you learned the truth. After the Debut, come find me and we’ll go on a walk.” Her brows were set in a deep furrow. “There are some secrets that not even our guards or servants can be trusted with.”

I nodded in understanding and chewed on the side of my cheek, wondering what it could be. She turned back towards the throne, dismissing me in a way only a Queen could. The guards ushered me out and I released a heavy sigh before muttering to the gods, “If you do exist, now would be a good time to prove it. Find me a way out of this evening.”

***

I walked the perimeter of the ballroom, keeping an eye out for Cara and handing out polite smiles to familiar faces. As I glanced towards the dance floor, I tried to take steady, deep breaths. My forehead prickled with cold sweat, my hands clenched into tight fists, while I fought the instinct to lock my spine and freeze in place. I was not a deer being hunted, for gods sakes, this was just a party. I was safe. But my body refused to listen to my mind. The ballroom started to darken and blur and I backed against the wall to get my bearings.

Don’t faint. Don’t you dare faint.

The chatter would never end if I had a panic attack in the middle of the party. My mind flashed to Mama’s lifeless body—her lips tinged purple as she gasped for air. I inhaled and exhaled rapidly, trying to catch my breath. And then I saw Cara.

My body relaxed when I recognized her black hair and cocoa complexion in the sea of nobles. I used her as my anchoring point to bring me back to the present. She was wearing a jade green dress that accentuated her lean figure. It shimmered as she swayed back and forth, trotting along the dance floor with a partner. She always looked in her element when she danced, like a gazelle leaping through tall grass. I followed their feet along the dance floor and fell into a trance. Breathing in, out, in, out…

A white-haired doctor yelled, “She’s not breathing,” as he checked my mother’s pulse. I sat next to her, tears streaming down my cheeks as feet shuffled by. So many eyes watching—staring—doing nothing to help.

My father was on her other side, holding her hand. “Eliana…” His broken voice chanted her name over and over. We stared at each other, knowing the center of our world was gone.

I snapped out of the trance as the song ended, noting that Cara had spotted me and was making her way over. “Are you okay?” She placed her palm against my forehead. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. You’re ice cold.”

My hands shook as I became aware of my surroundings. I clung onto the sides of my dress in an attempt to stop the trembling.

“Let’s go sit down. I’ll get you a drink.”

We settled ourselves in the designated wallflower section and I slowly sipped on water. We sat in silence for a few minutes before my head cleared enough to ask about the latest gossip. I needed something to distract me from the pungent smell of sweaty, overly-perfumed bodies. Not missing a beat, she told me what notable people were attending tonight and who’d been dancing together so far.

It was her second year in society. “This will be the season I find my husband,” Cara insisted. I hated the idea of her marrying and moving away. She was my closest friend—my only friend.

If Cara was a blade of grass, deeply rooted and bending with the wind, then I was a dandelion, easily swept into infinite directions at the slightest breeze. We balanced each other well. When we were children, I perpetually had skinned knees, tangled hair, and a propensity for pushing the limits. She was often along for the ride, but only as an accomplice, never the instigator.

She was sensible until it came to love. Cara was a romantic—not an easy thing to be in high society, where people married for money and power. “Only peasants marry for love,” her father frequently reminded her. It hadn’t deterred her. She wanted someone who saw her as more than a commodity.

She turned down two perfectly mediocre gentlemen last season. It had created tension between her and her parents. Being the oldest, in a family of daughters, Cara was under pressure to marry well. Her father was giving her one more season before he chose her husband for her. I couldn’t stand the thought of her being forced into a loveless marriage. She was a rare jewel amongst flat, smooth-brained river rocks.

She’d find love; I was sure of it. Men adored her. They were drawn to her like a quill to parchment, especially once they saw her gliding across the dance floor. She was a skilled player in the game of courtship, flattering them and flirting back effortlessly, yet still able to maintain an edge of mystery.

I, on the other hand, had no natural ability at attracting the opposite sex. It didn't matter because I planned on avoiding marriage as long as possible—council be damned. I’d accepted the fact that an arranged marriage was unavoidable, but I refused to let them rush me into it.

“Any suitors? Proposals? Do you have your eye on anyone yet?” I gave her a devilish grin.

“The season started two hours ago! No one worthy of my notice… yet.”

We giggled as we surveyed the room and saw several sets of eyes staring at us. We watched the crowd of dancers for several songs before I decided I couldn’t keep her to myself any longer. She needed to find a husband and had no time to waste.

“What about you and the stable boy?” Cara nudged me playfully. My stomach sank as she unknowingly rubbed salt in the fresh wound.

“I ended it earlier today, actually. It was time.” Before she could pry any deeper, I stood and said, “I hate to make you sit, when you’re clearly meant to be on the dance floor. I’m going to take a walk through the gardens and get some fresh air before the Debut.”

She understood everything I said, and everything I didn’t say, as she squeezed my gloved hand. “I’m always here to talk. You don’t have to face your hardships alone. And… I’m sorry your mother isn’t here to see how gorgeous you look today.” Her sincerity blurred my vision with tears that had been threatening to fall all day.

“It would be nice to have her here tonight, but I’m grateful to have you. I’ll be back soon. Please cover for me if anybody asks where I am.”

“I’ll tell them you’re powdering your nose.”

“Thank you, friend.” I grinned before making a beeline for the courtyard.

Chapter Three

There were already several couples paired off, meandering along the graveled pathways. They lingered amongst the topiaries and tidy rose gardens, while chaperones trailed behind. I sipped on a stolen glass of champagne, attempting to hide in plain sight, while I passed one of several large fountains. My chaperone was otherwise-engaged and nowhere in sight. My governess, Adeline, was my assigned babysitter for the evening and currently occupied with one of the footmen. I was in no hurry to find her.

I should’ve stayed longer. I didn’t want to let Ophelia down, but the fear that gripped me every time I got near the ballroom was paralyzing. My mother had died on the dance floor. Unbeknownst couples had waltzed around her as she fell to the floor. I couldn’t be in that room now without hearing the screams from that night.

My childhood innocence had been shredded to ribbons in a matter of moments. The doctor said it was poison—someone had slipped it into her glass. One sip was all it took to shatter a family. I was supposed to be in my bedroom sleeping, but I snuck downstairs to watch the grownups dance. I’d never fully recovered from the scene I’d witnessed… from the monumental loss I experienced. No one—nothing—could replace the love of a mother. Especially my mother. She’d been sunshine personified—a living flame that glowed too bright and burnt out too soon.

She was Ophelia’s only sibling and King Hadrian had been an only child. Since they had no children of their own, I was currently next in line for the throne, against all odds. I selfishly wished the Queen would remarry and try for an heir, but with her silver hair, it was likely she was past her child bearing years.

One devastating night, eleven years ago, had set me on a path I never wanted or expected; I was to be the future Queen of Aurelius. There were five other Kingdoms in Erador, but none of them wielded the power or strength of Aurelius. Every continent looked to us for cultural influence. My aunt was loving and kind, but she was also fierce and ruthless.

I didn’t think I’d ever be capable of filling her shoes. My fear of crowds created an obstacle that made me a terrible prospect for a role in leadership. The flashbacks that hit me whenever I was in the ballroom were vivid enough to bring me to my knees.

I never danced in public because of it. But I was still expected to know all of the dances, and tonight the council had highly encouraged me to swallow my fear.

We never found out who poisoned my mother. Ophelia said it was most likely rebels trying to send a message to the royal family that we weren’t untouchable. The Crown had enemies, despite its strength. There were reasons to resent us. The caste system was atrocious. Noble families gorged themselves on decadence by exploiting the masses. It was a broken system for everyone but those born into privilege.

I’d encouraged Ophelia to break the cycle, to demand change, but she told me I was too young to understand. There were many shades between black and white, and it was in the grey that one must rule. I hated politics.

I headed to the gardens on the north side of the courtyard, looking back to make sure no one was watching. I hurried down the path, rubbing my temple with one hand, while I slung back my glass of champagne with the other. The headache I’d been feeling since morning continued to worsen. It wrapped around my head and demanded my attention, pounding so loudly that the crunch of gravel beneath my feet wasn’t enough to drown it out. In hindsight, alcohol hadn’t been the best idea.

I was going to a quiet place where I could gather my thoughts. As much as I loved Cara and Ophelia, I’d never told them of my private retreat. I hadn’t told Deric of this garden either, even though it would’ve been the perfect rendezvous location. This was my secret—a garden so special, I was afraid it would somehow lose its magic if I showed it to anyone else.

I’d been coming here ever since I discovered it as a wandering child. I used to go on walks by myself and pretend my mother was with me. She told me it was a place that called to people like me—a place where I could come and talk to her when I felt lonely. She was in the birds that stopped to bathe in the fountains, the butterflies that drank the nectar, and the rain that watered the flowers—a place that tied us together through space and time.

I looked up at the sky, thinking of her, before ducking under a low hanging branch that led off the garden path and onto an overgrown trail. I followed it as I took high steps over ferns, bluebells, and wood violets.

Eventually, I saw a wall of ivy. It would’ve been easily missed unless one knew what they were looking for. I ran my fingers along the mossy stone, and felt for the familiar latch of an old wooden door. I pushed hard with my shoulder, knowing there were vines on the other side. Even when I visited this garden daily, the ivy always grew back over the door… like it didn’t want to be found.

A few more shoves and I was in. The exertion caused my skull to spark with pain. I hardly ever got headaches. It was strange one should strike so violently today, of all days. I looked through the doorway into the garden that laid before me. It always seemed to be perfectly maintained; not overly manicured, but beautifully wild. Weeds never choked out any of the perpetually blooming flowers.

Royal purple wisteria hung in clumps over the walls. Star Jasmine and lavender sprouted from the ground. Tiny white tea-roses were tucked between puffs of pink peonies. Plants didn’t follow a seasonal pattern here; they grew year round, even sprouting up through snow. The garden seemed to contain a splash of magic and I didn’t dare question how or why. Part of me thought this garden was proof that I was mad.

I picked up my skirts and collapsed against the wall across from the entrance. I breathed in and out, attempting to soothe my mind. I always felt safest in this spot, facing the door—a vantage point that lulled me into security and soon to sleep.

Chapter Four

Golden light blinded me, but I couldn’t shield my eyes. My arms were frozen at my sides. I was falling, hitting the ground with a loud thud, unable to wake, unable to move. I tried to call out for help, but my mouth wouldn’t form the words.

I could feel the presence of others around me, but I couldn’t turn to look. Shapes and shadows flickered against a bright light. The air was heavy and humid, smelling like a sweet, summer morning. I was being pulled by an unknown force, unable to orient myself. Layers of melodic whispers echoed around me. And then… darkness swallowed me.

***

I startled awake, heart pounding. As I came to my senses, I was shocked to see the sun clear across the sky, hours from setting. How long had I slept? With a gasp, I remembered what day it was—where I was supposed to be. The Debut—had I missed it? Cara was going to be in trouble for covering for me—Adeline would be fired. I anxiously scanned my surroundings, wondering how I’d ended up facing the wall I’d been lying against.

I stood too fast, bracing myself as a wave of dizziness crashed over me. It had been too long since I’d eaten. My corset was too tight. A wonderfully disastrous birthday, indeed.

With some relief, I realized my headache was gone. Once the stars in my vision stopped moving, I hurdled towards the door and ran. I leapt through the brush as fast as I could, being careful not to rip my dress.

I’m an idiot. Everything Thea thinks of me is true.

I followed the hidden trail towards the gravel path, growing increasingly frantic when I couldn’t find it. Perhaps my rattled brain had gone the wrong direction. Feeling disoriented, I glanced behind me, up at the pine trees, the forest floor, then towards the sky. I recognized nothing. This was a place I frequented often—I’d never gotten lost before.

I decided to backtrack and go slower this time, noting a patch of unfamiliar yellow flowers. They appeared to be glowing. Bending down, I examined one. How strange… they were glowing. Maybe new seeds had blown in on the wind from a faraway land.

As I reached down to pluck one, I heard a twig snap behind me. I whirled around, expecting to see a guard. Ophelia probably had a whole brigade out searching for me.

No one was there.

“Hello?” I called out, circling slowly. No response. I continued to search for the garden path.

Snap.

A louder crunch this time. I was not alone. Paranoia crept in. I bent down to grab a stick—a poor excuse for a weapon. I felt ridiculous, bracing myself for battle in a ball gown. If I did have to run, this monstrosity was going to weigh me down.

“Can anybody hear me?” I asked tentatively. “I’ve managed to lose sight of the path and would appreciate some help!”

Silence. Followed by a low growl.

I turned towards the source of the noise and saw an unrecognizable creature. It was reminiscent to a wolf, but distinctly different—distinctly larger. It grinned at me with long, sharp teeth that extended past its jaws. Shaggy, rust-colored fur covered its sizable body, matted in what appeared to be blood.

Its eyes were big and round with milky white centers. As the beast moved closer, I noticed that it walked with an uneven gate, as if injured or ill. I yelled, waving my weapon, but it was undeterred, moving steadily forward.

I heard another snap.

Turning, I saw a second set of milky eyes staring at me… and then another. I was being hunted. There were at least four of them, circling me… inching closer. I took a moment to assess my best option for survival, then committed.

I ran towards them, yelling at the top of my lungs. I hit one with my stick, hoping my surprise attack would spook them.

And then I ran for my life.

They were yipping and howling to one another. The sound was high-pitched and haunting. They were communicating, forming a plan.

I could hear them all around me, but couldn’t see them. Adrenaline pumped through me as I tried to find a tree I could climb—a spot I could hide.

The forest was thick with thorny underbrush and large roots jetting out from the ground. The trees were too tall to gain any kind of foothold. My dress was slowing me down. I wanted to rip it off, but that would take too much time.

The baying had stopped. Did that mean they were moving in for the kill? Terror hit me like a bolt of lightning.

I’d never been this deep in the forest before and recognized nothing. I tried to arc back and lose them, but could feel them gaining on me.

My heart beat wildly as my feet crunched over branches and leaves. I was so loud, so clumsy. They flew through the forest thicket like they were made for it, while I was sluggish and awkward in comparison. Such easy prey.

Was this truly how I died? In a tattered ballgown in the middle of the woods? I picked up my pace, but my dress snagged on a branch and I fell hard, rolling my ankle. I tried to stand up, but crumpled to the ground instead—panting and defeated.

I let out a string of curse words and backed myself against a tree trunk as they closed in around me. Tongues wagging, they seemed to be savoring the moment. One of them snapped at me, spittle flying from its jaws. I swung my stick and it retreated. They were waiting for me to make a mistake—to weaken. I swung my stick again.

Closing my eyes, I contemplated giving up. My breathing was strained and erratic as I struggled to suck down enough air. A sharp ache in my lungs told me I was still alive—for now. The pain would be much worse when they began tearing me apart though. Would they go for a quick kill or start with my intestines?

If I could just make it out of the forest and into the light, surely they wouldn’t follow me into the open, where there was people and music. I’d never wanted to be in the middle of a crowd more. Rallying my last burst of fight, I planted my feet and snarled at my attackers.

My eyes were open, but all I saw was black, like someone had extinguished the sun. I panicked, wondering if I was somehow already dead, but then I heard a whimper… followed by six distinct snaps.

The world went silent. I couldn’t see, but I could smell. The fragrant aroma of a rain-drenched cedar forest filled the air. It was soothing, reminding me of the misty morning walks I used to take with my mother, back when we lived in a simple cabin in the woods.

Was I dead? Was this the after-life?

A dark haze swirled around me, before dissipating faster than any natural fog. As my eyes adjusted back to the light, I saw six animals spread out around me in a circle. Their heads were bent at awkward angles, feet still twitching.

I grimaced as I took in their vacant expressions. My heart was thudding so loudly, I could barely make out the muffled voices approaching. I straightened my posture and held my weapon close to my chest, while my muscles shook with fatigue.

A man with golden auburn hair, the color of polished bronze, appeared on horseback. The sun illuminated him through the trees as he emerged from the shadows. He was so beautiful—so god-like—that I was nearly blinded by his brilliance. I closed my eyes and then reopened them to see if I was hallucinating.

He dismounted and strode towards me, flashing a cheshire grin as he said, “I’ve always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress.”