Blood & Cinders- Choose your Own Adventure Story

21. A

"I thought I saw you in my dream. No. Not a dream," Isabelle shook her head, trying to explain it properly. "It was a memory. One that replays often. Of a creature I met at the edge of the forest of my family's garden." Her fingers twinned together, and she stared at the caked dirt under her nails, unable to look him in the eye. "He looked like you... I gave him meat; dressed his wounds."

There was a pause of silence before she had the courage to drag her gaze up over his rugged features, to see the shock reflected in his hazel eyes.

"I thought you didn't remember," his voice came out in a rough whisper.

"So it was you!" Isabelle leaned forward only to hiss again through clenched teeth, the sharp pain reminding her of her wounds.

"We should get those dressed. I'll call Anna." Adam rose, heading for the door.

"Why didn't you say anything at the auction?" Isabelle called from behind, stopping him in his tracks. His back was to hers, as hands balled into fists at his side.

"You didn't recognize me...I didn't know what to say."

"But you should have-" You could have let me go.

"We'll talk after your wounds are dressed," he bit out. The glass rattled as he yanked the door open. "There's not much time before dawn." The door shut behind him with a loud clunk, and she was alone again.

Isabelle rose after a few minutes, unable to sit still. She did her best to cover her stomach to stop the blood from leaking out. Walking with slow, careful steps down the magically lit garden path, inspecting the various plants. The last time she'd stood in this large garden dome, it had been a memory of terror and sadness. One of many that King Henry had given her.

She took her time now to appreciate the garden. It was quite the odd menagerie of things, and she was surprised to see any greenery and growth at all when the only light came from the shining crystal orb that hung from the glass ceiling, serving as an artificial sun.

There were the trees she had remembered; whose thin branches stretched to canopy over the short foliage below.

Several plants looked like tall grass, others like snakes curling in on one another and one like long, pointed teeth that stretched to the ceiling. Isabelle considered herself a seasoned gardener and had an old book of local flora she'd often read to Rosie before bed. Looking at pictures of flowers together and imaging all the wondrous plants they could add to the garden. But some of these plants looked entirely foreign, and she marveled at their shapes.

A few rose bushes scattered one corner of the garden. Their thorns twisting on barren limbs offering their own dark and twisted beauty into the wild mix. She caught sight of a single rosebud. Its white petals were just uncurling, barely in bloom. Still, Isabelle was grateful for what little greenery was here; it was a color she had missed dearly.

"Isabelle?" She heard Adam's voice calling for her in a loud whisper that carried across the domed ceiling. She wove her way back down the winding stone path, the gaps in the foliage giving her a glimpse of his searching eyes.

She paused, shaded from view behind a tall bushy plant whose many leaves that looked like the long hanging fur of her beloved shaggy sheepdog Duchess. Watching him for a moment as his head craned looking for her in the large indoor garden. His dark midnight locks tousled and slightly damp as they curled down under his ear and flopped over one of his beautiful brownish green eyes.

He was dressed in simple dark brown breeches and a white tunic with laces open at the front, giving her a glimpse of the planes of his muscular chest. It was a garment unbecoming of the title of a prince, but somehow it suited Adam just fine.