I smirk, temporarily losing the grip on my mask. Leaning in just a bit, I lower my voice to a teasing whisper. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She holds my gaze without a word, but then they seem to glaze over for a second, like she’s concentrating on something. And I realise too late that she’s opening her hand and conjuring a ball of water. She manoeuvres it so it’s hovering over my head.
“Don’t you dare!” I warn her. “Stick to my lesson plan, disciple!”
She throws her head back with a laugh that sounds like a fucking angel’s choir. And then she grins and says, “Where’s the fun in that?”
I barely duck out of the way before the water ball explodes over my head.
TWENTY
Eirabella
After a weekof successful and increasingly improving training sessions with Rylan, where I only feel like kicking him in the shin an average of twice a day, he deigns to give me an afternoon off from combat training for “good behaviour and only committing a minimal amount of insubordination against the crown.” It’s not until later that I find out the true reason why—the queen and princesses have invited me to a tea luncheon for the females of the court. No amount of begging, bargaining, promising, or threats of violence convinces him to get me out of it, and while Brienne is helping me dress, the amount of my blaspheming against the crown is anything but minimal.
“Your language is not befitting the dress I made you, Eira,” Brienne scolds as she laces up the bodice, pulling so tightly I can barely breathe. I suspect it is in part punishment for threatening to go to the luncheon in my training outfit.Before I leave, though, I give her a hug to thank her for the dress, as well as her friendship.
As I step into the garden, it’s immediately clear that this place has been touched by magic. Despite the fact that it’s the middle of winter, the ground beneath my feet is soft and free of snow, as if the season’s chill has been banished entirely from this small oasis. The air is warm, wrapping around me like a gentle embrace, a stark contrast to the biting cold that lingers just beyond the garden’s edges.
The pathway is lined with lush greenery, vibrant and full of life, each plant and flower carefully chosen to create a breathtaking display. Delicate snowdrops and crocuses peek out from the borders, their pale petals glowing in the soft light. Above, the trees are adorned with garlands of ivy and clusters of winter roses, their deep red blossoms adding bursts of colour to the serene landscape. The centrepiece of the garden is a grand gazebo, draped with more ivy and winter roses, with delicate sheer curtains billowing gently in the warm air.
Alina, ever the gracious princess, immediately takes me under her literal wing, tucking my arm with hers, guiding me with gentle smiles, genuine questions, and whispered introductions of the other guests. I appreciate Alina’s kindness, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like I don’t quite belong.
As we walk alongside a group of court ladies, the conversation naturally drifts to Rylan, the ever-elusive but oh-so-eligible Crown Prince.
“Rylan and I have known each other since we were children,” Julietta says, a proud smile on her lips. “We share a special bond. I dare say, no one knows him better than I do.”
Selene, never one to be outdone, smirks. “Ah, but Lady Julietta, there’s more to a match than history, isn’t there? Not only am I of noble birth, but soon I will be the Aquilith. What bettermatch for the crown prince and Celestaris than someone who can stand beside him in strength and status?”
One of the other ladies, attempting to lighten the mood, jokes, “What if Eirabella wins the trials? Then what, Selene?”
Selene’s laughter rings out, sharp and dismissive as she turns to me to make sure I can hear what she’s saying. “Eirabella? I shall enjoy watching her try.”
“That makes two of us, Selene. It will be quite the show. I hear the king has considered selling tickets,” I say lightly, gaining some giggles from Alina and the other ladies.
As the other women continue to chatter about all manner of superficial things, I can’t help but feel a pang of longing for the simplicity of my village, where people spoke plainly and didn’t hide their true intentions behind layers of silk and lace.
The queen, who had remained mostly silent during the walk, choosing instead to lean on Princess Elara’s arm and just listen, now sits under the gazebo quietly sipping her tea. Her presence is serene, though there’s a weariness about her that I can’t help but notice. Alina, ever the thoughtful one, gently pulls me toward her mother.
“Mother, you must hear some of Eirabella’s stories of her village,” Alina says, her voice warm.
The queen’s eyes sparkle with curiosity as she looks at me. “Oh, do tell, dear. I do so love hearing about life beyond these walls.”
Encouraged by the queen’s gentle interest, I begin to share stories of my life in the village. I speak of the small joys and simple pleasures, of the friends I left behind, as well as the village characters like BonBon. The queen listens intently, her expression softening with each tale.
“Your village sounds like a place full of life and love,” the queen says, her voice tinged with nostalgia as she stares over at the chapel the king built for her at the far end of the gardens,something she can often be found doing. “I can understand why you’d miss it.”
I nod, a small smile on my lips. “It was home, in every sense of the word.”
The queen sips her tea, a wistful look in her eyes. “I know what it’s like to feel out of place… to feel disconnected. And since my illness, I haven’t had the use of my magic for some time now. It’s as if a part of me is missing. I’m glad you have your magic back, dear.”
My heart aches for the queen, my empathy deepening. Such a kind, gentle, warm woman. I can’t help feeling as though her presence in this realm is wasted on a throne. “Is there anything that can be done?”
The queen shakes her head gently, her smile sad but accepting. “If there were, we would have found it. The king and I have spent countless hours searching for a cure, poring over ancient texts and forgotten lore, remedies and prophecies. Some of our best memories are of those quiet nights in His Majesty’s library, just the two of us, learning together, searching for answers. Sometimes, I think the journey has been far more important than the destination.”
I feel a connection with the queen in that moment, a shared understanding of loss and the longing for something just out of reach. Before I can respond, one of the other ladies leans in with a curious expression.
“Eirabella,” Lady Mirabel begins, a kind smile on her face, “tell us, what was it like growing up in a village? It must be quite different from life here at the castle.”
