“Because it’s rare,” Zerah says.
I lift my brow. “Rare? How?”
She slides her eyes to the left, as if she suspects someone might overhear us. Then, she grabs my arm and pulls us to a more secluded area of the garden. “The ceremony is risky. If it doesn’t work, both parties trying to bind their magic die.”
I gasp. “That’s terrible.”
She nods. “Yes, I know. I loathe the practice.”
My mind races with the dangerous truth she’s just revealed. Death as a consequence of failed magic. It’s a harrowing thought, one that wraps cold fingers around my heart.
“Have you ever witnessed such a ceremony?” I ask.
Long, dark hair brushes against Zerah’s shoulders as she shakes her head. “No, and I hope I never do. The very idea chills me to the bone.”
I nod, finding comfort in her shared unease. “It seems so...final.”
“It is,” she says, “and that’s why it’s forbidden without the highest consent. Besides, it’s not just about the risk of death. It’s about control. Taking away someone’s magic—it’s like stealing their soul.”
Her words echo my own thoughts about freedom and autonomy.
As we continue our walk, Zerah points out various plants and flowers, her knowledge extensive and impressive.
“This is foxglove,” she explains, gesturing toward tall spires of pink and purple bells. “Beautiful, but deadly if consumed.”
I run my fingers over the soft petals, contemplating the duality of nature—so much like people and magic. Beauty on the surface, but danger lurking beneath.
“And these are snapdragons,” Zerah continues, moving to a bed of bright blooms that look like tiny dragon with their mouths open in silent roars.
“They’re whimsical,” I say with a smile.
“They’re said to ward off deceit and falsehoods.”
A small laugh escapes me as I imagine planting an entire garden of snapdragons around me as a shield against duplicity.
Zerah leads me to a bench nestled between two flowering bushes, inviting me to sit for a moment.
As we chat about trivial things—the best seasons for certain flowers, which herbs are best for cooking—I silently thank Olah for bringing me back into Zerah’s life and for giving me a friend like her.
ChapterThirty-Four
ANNORA
As I step backinto the palace a short while later and close the door behind me, a deep voice startles me. “Did you enjoy the gardens, Lady Annora?”
I turn and spot Aleksander walking toward me. “Yes, they were magnificent.”
As he comes to a stop in front of me, his eyes drop to the book Zerah gave me earlier. “Are you enjoying some light reading?”
“Yes. It’s a book on the history of Sharhavva.” I clutch the book against my chest. “I want to learn more about the city.”
One corner of his mouth twitches upward in the barest hint of a smirk. “Heavy reading for a woman from House of Silver.”
“I may be from House of Silver, but the house doesn’t define me. My thoughts, my passions, my dreams—those are what make me who I am, not some arbitrary label assigned at birth.” I straighten my posture. “Besides, I’m more than capable of grasping the complexities of Sharhavva’s history.”
“Well said.” Aleksander smiles. “You know, I think we may get along after all. Anyone who wants to learn about my city isn’t completely intolerable.”
I tilt my head to the side, studying the proud man standing in front of me. The one who looks so much like Jasce, yet there are noticeable differences. Especially in their eyes. Jasce’s eyes are always warm when he looks at me, even when he’s being stubborn or arrogant. But Aleksander’s gaze has changed since I last saw him. There’s coldness there now.
