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I awoke in a massive bed with posts made from the trunks of living aspen trees. A canopy of green leaves mottled the sunlight now pouring down through a domed glass ceiling. I pushed back the blanket, startled to find it was woven entirely of rose petals. The petals were browning at the edges.
A bee buzzed lazily along the blanket until it saw me watching. It zipped away, drawing my eye toward the walls. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. One entire wall appeared to be made from a beehive. I cringed and clutched the blanket to my face. Jars of honey sat on every surface. But the honey in the jar nearest me on the bedside table had crystalized. Upon closer inspection, I realized every jar had cloudy, forgotten honey in it. The beehive itself appeared nearly abandoned, save for one small corner still crawling with insects.
I crawled carefully out of the bed, keeping my eyes on the bees. Not until I’d walked to the edge of the bed did I note the breeze on my face. What I’d thought were enormous floor-to-ceiling windows facing the bed were not windows at all. No glass covered the spaces that overlooked a wild garden.
Greenery, untrimmed and half-eaten by caterpillars, stretched in all directions. Flowers of every color exploded from bushes and vines, seemingly left to take over what they pleased. The result was both madness and beauty.
Rolling hills of green suggested vineyards beyond. The land so closely resembled the vineyards surrounding Leor that my heart stung a little. Thinking of home brought back memories of the nightmares.
Visions of my parents, hung like criminals, danced before my eyes. I slapped my hands over my face, desperate to rid myself of these memories. Another image filled my mind. I’d seen myself, covered in blood, wearing a ballgown.
Rafael had said the images weren’t real. Only nightmares. The way he’d held me, whispering away my fears, had made my heart stumble in my chest. But then, when he thought I was asleep, he and Hector had said things that chilled my blood.
Remember why you married her.
If there were another way, we’d have done it long ago.
He’d married me for some ulterior motive. But I already knew that much, considering marriage had been his part of the bargain. I glanced around the room, trying to anchor myself to this strange new place. My riding jacket lay neatly over the back of a tall chair. My boots flopped sideways in front of a cold hearth large enough for me to walk through.
Her life will have meant everything.
At this memory—this confession—my breath caught as I continued my exploration of the room. Books lay scattered on a low table and stacked on the rug. A rabbit nibbled the corner of one book, its nose twitching as it stopped to look up at me.
When I lifted my brows at the little brown creature, it bounded away through the open wall into the garden. I crossed the room, barefoot, until I stood in the angled sunlight at the edge of a paved garden path that had long since been overtaken by weeds.
Three small steps led from the bedroom floor to the grassy space. The stories always painted the fae as architects of nature, but this man I’d married seemed to have lost his touch. I stepped into the full sun, scanning the grounds for any sign of Rafael. Birds startled from a nearby tree. The tree reminded me cruelly of the part of my nightmare where Zara had fallen to her death.
Nothing was stopping me from running straight out of this house. But I’d made a bargain, and I’d heard Rafael and Hector speaking of something called Shadow lords, which sounded more ominous than the Wild Hunt.
“Good afternoon.”
I yelped and stumbled forward, only to step on a grass burr and yelp again.
A woman stared at me, an amused smile curling her lips. Her skin shimmered strangely, as if coated in luminescent powder. Blonde hair, so pale it was almost white, looped around her head and spilled down her shoulders in symmetrical waves. As she walked toward me, her blue dress rippled like it was made of the lightest silk. The neckline was loose and carefree, almost like an undergarment, though it was studded with jewels.
“Hello,” she said, a slight accent touching the word. She inclined her head in a polite manner. “He said he’d brought home a wife.”
Me. That would be me.
My lips fumbled a few syllables, and I tugged at my wrinkled shirt hem.
The fae offered me a warm smile. “My name is Everence. I’m Rafael’s cousin.”
“Where is he?” I blurted, then flinched at my rudeness.
Recovering my dignity, I dipped into a curtsy. “My apologies. It is a pleasure to meet you. I’m Talia. I’m afraid I’m somewhat muddled after our journey here.” I dropped my gaze to my bare feet.
“He said you were so strong, though!”
I blinked and looked up at her. “Strong? He cradled me like a babe as I wept.”
“Strength is sometimes best expressed in tears, I think. For the alternative is madness.” She stepped into the sunlight and extended an arm behind my back. “Come, let me show you around Starfell—the cooks are preparing you a feast—and then I’ll show you the stables.”
* * *
After what had indeed been a feast, complete with my favorite fried pastries as dessert, Everence led me around a part of the garden veritably taken over by an unruly wisteria vine. In the distance stood Rafael’s stables, and my lips parted at the sight. If Zara’s family’s stables were like a manor house compared to my father’s humble barn, the stables at Starfell were the royal palace.
Ahead sprawled a wide, immaculate structure with two aisles and four rows of large stalls. Tightly woven branches of living trees supported the outer walls and came together to form a roof. Not a leaf was out of place, and no unwanted weeds grew here. Ringed paddocks stretched out beyond the barn, followed by verdant pasture. Horses grazed in the sun in the distance. A magnificent black stallion stomped around in the nearest paddock, his mane shining like spilled ink.
