Heir of the Underground

Chapter 11: Aurelia (continued)

Aurelia's heart practically leapt out of her chest at the sound. She felt her whole body go numb, her blood turning ice cold, chilling her to the bone. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to turn around and look upon the owner of the voice.

She had expected to see someone foreboding and angry but found herself faced with a regal woman with ash brown hair and large, green eyes that resembles that of a doe. She even had miniature antlers sprouting from the top of her head, and there appeared to be ivy entwined in them.

Yet there was also something judgmental about her gaze. Her eyes narrowed in on Aurelia's small figure and her mouth tightened into a contemplative line.

"I wasn't going to," Aurelia responded quickly, a shakiness to her tone. "I promise."

The woman looked Aurelia up and down before offering consolation. "Relax, child. I believe you." She took a few steps closer, drawing nearer to Aurelia. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to observe them up close. They are rather intriguing, even I can admit."

Aurelia gave a light nod. "Yes, they are. They just seem entirely out of place in the garden. Everything is so lively, and they're so..."

"Dead?" the woman mused. Aurelia nodded again, to which the woman remarked, "That's the point."

"What do you mean by that?"

The woman made her way to where Aurelia was, stopping beside the young girl and right before the rose bushes. Then she beckoned Aurelia to turn and look at them again too, to stare at their blackened petals, brittle stems, and shriveled thorns.

To see them for what they were—dead.

"My name is Tierre Ashblood," she began. "My son, Solanine, is the current gardener here. And I assume that you've met my stepson, haven't you? He mentioned training a new girl with the same exterior as you."

Aurelia gave a light nod. "Yes, Leviathan has been training me. And he's told me a bit about you and Solanine, though he never mentioned that you tended to this garden, just that Solanine currently does."

"I did," Tierre reaffirmed. "I tended to everything here. Well, everything except for the roses. They were the late queen's favorite flower and she wanted to tend to them herself. So, I let her. Kassius even used to help her too. When he was younger, at least. I remember hearing their laughter echo through the garden. How sweet it was." Tierre woman sighed, shaking her head as she continued to examine the ugly, dried-up flowers. "But then the queen passed away, so Prince Kassius requested that we leave them be. He didn't want anyone to tend to them except for her. Just as it had always been."

The corners of Aurelia's mouth instinctively tugged down into a frown. "So they're just going to stay like that forever?"

Tierre shrugged. "I suppose," she responded, disappointment oozing from every word. "I can't imagine that Kassius will change his mind anytime soon. He's let her death consume him, almost as much as the death of his sibling."

Her death? And his sibling?

The brilliant garden around her quickly became irrelevant, losing its novelty. Something about the woman's words had struck Aurelia, unlocking a memory that she had long since shoved away. And now that it had returned to the forefront of her mind, it refused to be dismissed yet again.

The red-haired Fey with the golden wings—in the stony cellar. The pool of blood. The screaming baby. The soldiers. The king. Rheolaeth.

She had almost forgotten about it entirely, because of Jacinth's interruption and their last-minute trip to the garden. Her dream. The dream that had caused her to wake up sweating. The dream that had reminded her of the story that she had been told about the death of Kassius's mother, Briseida, and his sibling.