Page 11 of Wolfsbane

“Just as your death caps were beloved by your mother, wolfsbane is beloved by me. In Hellbore, we had a wholegarden of these poisonous beauties. Much like those little blue mushrooms, I cared for them. The day Boletus arrived, he burned all our gardens, including the wolfsbane. What he didn’t realize is that, by doing so, he released their toxic perfume. It carried with the wind and killed parts of my kingdom. He made us listen as they died, crying out for help.” I turned to look up at him. “There is no cure for wolfsbane poisoning. Once it lures you in with its beauty, it grips your soul with its scent until it drags it to hell, leaving nothing but your flesh and bones. It possesses you as you fall under its spell.” I turned back to the flower.

“How can you be so close to it?” Morel asked, watching me closely.

“Simple.” My fingers reached to the flower’s stem, plucking it free as I pulled it close and inhaled. “I built an immunity long ago. By slowly introducing it to your body, overtime, it does you no harm.”

“Interesting. Your wolfsbane seeds must’ve carried with the wind when Boletus burned them. These flowers,” he reached out, hesitating before stroking a lavender petal, “began to grow overnight one day, consuming all around my castle. My people were unsure of what they were, so they kept their distance. A few were unfortunate.” He removed his hand. “It's an odd thing, don’t you think?”

“What is?”

“That your kingdom's flowers would grow here. It is as though Hellbore knew its daughter would one day reside in my kingdom, sending these here to comfort you.” He smiled, stepping away as I turned and asked a hasty question.

“Is that how your mother’s death caps came to be here?” He stopped, his back stiffening as he fell silent. “When you were exiled, did you bring them here for comfort?”

“Those death caps are all I have left of her.” Morel slowly turned, his face cast in a shadow of sadness. “The day Iescaped Dryade, I took nothing but a handful of those glowing mushrooms. It wasn’t until I reached the woods of this kingdom that I felt safe enough to plant them. I didn’t know how much they loved the cold until then. Their exceptional growth is the reason I chose this place for my home.” He looked around at the snowy landscape. Morel had chosen one of the most beautiful places to lay his roots, the entire kingdom covered in blankets of snow and black bark trees. I felt as though I was existing in a painting.

“They are poisonous too.” I turned back to him, noticing a single death cap now in his palm, glowing in the shadows of his body. “Their glow is poisonous if ingested. My mother studied these little things, alongside all the plants and herbs she could get her hands on. But these…” He held the mushroom out to me. “She was astonished something so beautiful could be so deadly.”

I accepted the tiny fungi, holding it next to the flower in my hand, admiring their blue and lavender hues together.

“It is mesmerizing how the most beautiful things are the deadliest.” I could feel Morel’s eyes on me.

“Indeed it is.”

SIX

HESPER

Birds singingand the smell of a fresh fire crackling woke me from such sound and peaceful sleep. I almost didn’t want to get up, too content in my bed beneath the warm, silky sheets. I had been living in Morel’s castle for quite some time, learning more about him and his people. He was so fond of them, but more so of Orion, a man who may not have shared his blood but was more his brother than his evil twin Agaric.

I had heard tales of the twins of Dryade, one blessed by the sun, the other by what everyone claimed was the devil himself, but they were wrong. Morel and Agaric were simply day and night, born brothers, but their rivalry reached deeper than their blood. As a descendant of a daughter of the moon, it only made sense as to why Morel was so different. He was a son of the night himself and gifted. He only needed to learn how to embrace it.

As I rose from the bed, I noticed I wasn’t alone. Crouched in front of the onyx fireplace was Morel. He was poking at the growing flames, remaining quiet as a mouse.

Such a caring man.It was no wonder his people loved him so. I too had grown fond of the king of shadows. Morel slightly turned his head, noticing me as I clutched the bedding close to my chest in a frail attempt to cover my body.

“Forgive me.” He stood, backing towards the door. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Winter has landed here in Grisset, covering everything in a thick blanket of cold. I wanted to ensure you had a strong enough fire to keep you warm. I know Hellbore rarely falls to such low temperatures.”

“I have always preferred the cold myself.” Something flashed across his face as he tried to hide a smile, and my stomach fluttered at his expression.

“I shall leave you to get ready.” Morel turned to the door to leave.

“Morel,” I whispered. The way his name fell from my lips sent a chill up my spine as he stopped. “Thank you.” The phrase was all I could manage, though for some reason, I wanted to say more.

“Anything for you, my queen.” Morel exited my room, gently closing the door as I remained in the bed, dropping the bedding, my eyes fixated on where he had stood.

His queen.

My eyes moved to the onyx fireplace, stepping from the bed as I approached it, basking in the golden warm that consumed my body. My fingers trailed along the mantle, overgrown with the tiny death caps. When Morel presented this room to me upon my arrival, it was barren, aside from these beauties. He had Orion furnish the room in grand things, things ‘fitting a queen of the night’ as he had stated. As glamorous and stunning as the room had become, it was too much. I didn’t feel deserving of such things. Moonstones and crystal adorned every surface of the room, silver accents popping from all the blue and purple fabrics and tapestries. It felt as though the goddess had designed the room herself, reflecting the night skies within it. Such magnificence. My eyes fell back to the mantle, tracing a lavender petal of the wolfsbane flower that had grown from the single stem I plucked my first night here. The flower had grownalongside the mushroom, reaching high above to the ceiling and down the walls. I felt as though I was living in my own personal garden.

I inhaled the alluring scent, closing my eyes as my brain tingled at the dulled toxin perfume. Despite my eagerness to defeat Boletus and return to my kingdom, I had slowly begun to grow more patient, enjoying my time here in Grisset. I had felt more in place amongst its people, hidden in the cold mountain shadows, than I ever did in my own kingdom.

The wind whistled outside, drawing my attention to the large, stained glass window. I walked to it, opening the panes as I gasped at the sight before me. Snow stretched as far as the eye could see, the sky drenched in a lavender glow as small flakes drizzled from the heavens. I had never seen such wintery powder as this. My bare feet moved, unphased by the cold as I stepped out onto the stone terrace in only my thin, silver silk nightdress. The material brushed along my feet like liquid metal as my hair fell down my back and reached my waist. My fingers played with the crystal around my neck as I inhaled the scents around me, feeling the snowflakes as they kissed my skin and melted into my flesh. I felt at peace.

My eyes fell to the landscape below, the sounds of the kingdom filling my ears. I leaned against the stone terrace as I glanced below and admired everything. There were children running, throwing snowballs and giggling. Animals pranced in the powder, the normal hustle and buzz of the people lifted as they seemed to all admire the snow and cold. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh at it all, gleaming with how truly happy his kingdom was.

This may be the kingdom of shadows, but it is filled with nothing but love and light.

As my gaze wandered, I noticed Morel off in the distance, chopping wood just on the outskirts of the frozen forest. He wasshirtless, his blue-black hair tied high as his skin glistened in the light. I watched him closely, admiring the way his muscles bulged and his body moved as he swung the axe, gracefully splitting a log in half with one motion.

---