Page 74 of Grave Flowers
“They made the wedding gown for me, of course. How could they sew one in time for you? I tried it on, once.”
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness?” Gwenllian asked. She couldn’t see or hear Inessa—but she could hear me.
“Nothing,” I said. I tried to sound commanding. “I need a moment. This is my first time seeing myself as a bride, and I would like to reflect. Now, everyone out.”
“Your Highness!” Gwenllian sputtered. “We can’t simply leave you in the gown.”
“Now.”
“But—but—”
“I am betrothed to your monarch, and I am your soon-to-be queen,” I said. Pent-up nerves and fear made my voice taut. “Do not question me, lest I have words with Prince Aeric … or Prince Lambert.”
At that, everyone skittered away, including Gwenllian, who stared tragically over her shoulder at me in the gown until the door closed.
“Spoken like a true ruler,” Inessa said. “I never thought I’d see the day, Mads—whyever are you looking at me in that way? Is there something upon my face?”
“It’s more what’s not upon your face.”
Inessa turned to the mirror and let out a little shriek. “My nose! Wherever did it go?” She frowned, tilting her head from side to side as though trying to find its best angle sans nose. “Do you think it can regrow in the afterlife? Once you set me free from Bide?”
I met her gaze in the mirror, seeking her eyes behind the sludge. The grime collected in the folds of her eyelids and the hollows beneath them.
“Inessa, you must be honest with me.” The tautness in my voice drained away, making it crack with overwhelm. “There’s a grave flower in your chambers. One I’ve never seen before, and—and an arm dropped out of it, along with a strand of hair. It looked like your hair. Is your body there?”
Surprise flitted over Inessa’s face. “Certainly not. From what I understand, my body is in Radix, in a casket.”
“Then whose body is it?” I pressed. Questions came almost faster than I could speak. Unknowing surrounded me. I wished to claw free but could not. “And how did the grave flower come to be in your chambers? Aeric wasn’t aware of it either, and I imagine if anyone else were, I would’ve heard as much. There was also our plaque. The one I stole from Mother’s altar. Why?”
“How many times must I tell you not to snoop in my things?” Inessa demanded indignantly. She sighed. “I didn’t put any grave flowers in my chambers, and you were always more obsessed with that silly plaque than me. If I had put a grave flower in my chambers, it would’ve been discovered when they cleared out my things to be sent home, and I imagine it would cause quite the commotion.” At the very least, her story confirmed Aeric’s—the grave flower must’ve recently been placed there. “Everything is awry. Maybe it’s just the otherworld bleeding intothis one as I cross back and forth from Bide. Our childhood treasures have been stirred up by the trips, it seems.”
Chills swept over me, turning my skin cold against the silk and sunlight. I thought of grave flowers appearing in Inessa’s chambers, old magic enmeshing with our present world. In a way, Inessa herself was the same. An incarnation of things I’d previously thought impossible and places I’d doubted existed.
“You are troubled, Madalina. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I said. I didn’t want her to doubt me or to think my weakness was getting the best of me, even as I feared it myself.
“Has something happened? Tell me—maybe I can help.” She spoke serenely, without any hint of judgment. It was all it took.
I spoke freely, needing to unburden myself. “Prince Lambert wants me to marry him now that Queen Gertrude is dead.” Saying it aloud made me even colder. I shivered. “I sought to secure Radix’s freedom, but he wishes to subjugate us once he’s king. I can only imagine what Father will think. And I—I thought I had a friend, but it turns out he’s … a ghost.”
At that, Inessa’s brows lifted, and her lips parted in surprise. A bulging, four-legged creature scuttled out of her mouth and down her neck. She flicked it onto the mirror. It stuck. She slammed her hand over it. Guts burst from its body, and its legs spasmed in death throes.
“There’s another ghost here?” Her lips pursed. Of all things, she was jealous. Then again, she’d never liked sharing. “Who is it?”
“His name is—was—Yorick.” I could see his sad thin face in my mind, the inked teardrops reflecting his lonely life. Hurt burned inside me. The image vanished. “Apparently, only I can see him. Just like only I can see you.”
“Whatever does he want?”
“I don’t know.” I shifted in the wedding gown. The veil caught on the shoulder embroidery. Carefully, I worked to free it, but the more I tried, the more it snagged. “He never asked anything of me. In fact, hehelped me bury Luthien and was always kind to me. All he seemed to want to do was read.”
“Books?”
“No, street signage. Yes, of course, books. But I think he has a plan, though I haven’t the foggiest notion what it might be.” I gave a final desperate yank on the veil. The thin web of threads parted, and a small hole appeared.
“There must be something he wants,” Inessa said thoughtfully. She ran her finger through the guts of the bug, dragging its entrails across the mirror. Tentatively, she licked her finger. “Everyone is on a path set from birth. Follow the path of his life, and you’ll find what he wants.”
“It’s just that none of it makes sense. He’s from Pingere and was raised in a brothel. His mother was treated cruelly, and he avenged her before coming here. So I don’t understand why he’d be a ghost or what other unfinished business he might have—Inessa!”
