Page 83 of Grave Flowers
“I—I’m a lowly garden monasticte,” Alifair sputtered. “Please, Your Highness, I have a secret garden here and grow grave flowers, but I keep to myself. I don’t bother the others, and I don’t spread the Fely faith.”
“Be at ease,” Aeric said. There was no hesitation in his voice. “I do not mind that your garden is here.”
Alifair let out a sigh of relief, and he bowed again to Aeric. The soft keening of grave flowers came from a door across the courtyard, opposite the kitchen. He looked toward it. “May I be excused?”
“You may,” Aeric said.
He hurried off, leaving us.
I regarded my betrothed, worried he was closing in on me, even as I worried that Inessa might have plans of her own. The longer I was in Acus, the more trapped I became, every relationship backing me into inescapable corners. I thought of Yorick and how I’d protected him,only to be betrayed. Alifair might not like isolation, but I suddenly saw its benefits, how isolation could be safety. Perhaps I could bear loneliness. Love hurt much more. All its forms—familial, friendly, romantic—led to pain so great, it stole every active part of you. Once it was done with you, you were nothing but dry bone.
Aeric spoke first. “Well, I’d pick you a flower, but I think I’d be bitten.” The starvelings nipped at his fingers. He stepped out of their reach. “So there’s a secret grave flower garden in Acus.”
“My mother’s family runs it. They will do you no harm and merely wish to be left alone,” I said. I’d led Aeric here—just as Mother had protected her family, I would as well. “Please, you won’t tell anyone of it, will you?”
Aeric paused. I waited, frayed and fretful. “I see no reason why I should,” he said.
I hid a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” I said, speaking more sincerely to him than I ever had before. “Did you … enjoy your admittance?”
“Of course. I deeply enjoy recounting my personal failings,” Aeric responded dryly. His hand was at his neck, and he tucked his pendant beneath his shirt. I watched it disappear, remembering how its chain had felt in my fingers as I pulled him close to me. “You don’t wear one.”
I blinked, confused, mind still half afire from the recollection. “Wear what?”
“A pendant for the Family.”
“No, why would I?”
“Most do,” Aeric said with a shrug. “At least in Acus.”
“Radixans do too, though mostly for style,” I said. “I suppose I don’t see the meaning in wearing one, so I don’t. Why do you wear yours?”
“It’s an inheritance from my father. One of his personal items,” Aeric said. “I use it to pray.”
“Pray?” I asked. Prayer as a practice was bizarre to me, even as the kingdoms were full of monasteriums and statues for the Family. I could understand offerings, even if I wouldn’t bother to provide any myself.
Offerings were transactional and physical. You left an object in hopes of getting help in return. It was a trade, essentially—a business transaction. Prayer was much more intimate, implying conversation, which implied someone heard what you said and might respond. I couldn’t imagine anything more terrifying, and I figured if I never prayed, I’d never have to fear messages from the beyond. “Whatever do you pray for?”
“I pray for you.”
If he meant to shock me, he had. I didn’t know what to say to such a thing. No one had ever said they prayed for me before. “Oh?” The word faltered on my lips. “What it is that you pray about me?”
“For your downfall.”
Fear closed an icy fist around my heart.
“What?” I gasped.
“I’m jesting, Princess.” I daggered him with a stare. He leaned against the courtyard’s stone wall, arms loosely crossed, as though he hadn’t a worry in the world. For someone speaking on sacred matters, he was ridiculously brash. “Do not fret. I ask for your peace and happiness.”
I thought about him speaking my name and offering it up for blessings. I almost wished to tell him to stop, to leave me from his prayers. If the Family heard him, I did not wish for them to take note of me, and and even if they didn’t, I should not wish to be in Aeric’s mind’s eye or his heart’s prayer. Such places allowed for examination. Yet I couldn’t quite manage to say so, and something selfish and forbidden in me longed to be safeguarded by him, even in this way. I stared down at the dirt.
“If the gods are real, surely they hate me.” I hadn’t intended to say something so raw and my words rang with confliction. I didn’t dare lift my head.
“Then I will stand between you and them in this life and the next.” Aeric’s voice was unexpectedly as ragged as mine. I lifted my chin. He’d straightened and his eyes blazed. For a moment, I lingered in his promise. But bleakness swept in. He would not offer such a thing if he knew who I truly was.
Taking a breath, I turned away, pretending to be distracted by the grave flowers. I stepped over to the enmities and knelt.
“What type of grave flowers are those?” Aeric asked, smoothly switching topics.
