Silver: The Lost Royal

27 | The Garden of Gloves

♛
Myriando ~ mahy-ree-an-doh
Nertiva ~ neer-tee-va
♛

THERE were no truer words. After Karyn had settled in bed with her head resting on the soft thighs of the lady, and not long into the funny and intriguing tale of two paupers and a tax collector, Karyn had fallen fast asleep. The tune struck her as familiar but she couldn't place a finger on where she had heard it and even though she wanted to know how the tax collector would catch the paupers who wanted to rip him off using his assistant, she couldn't help the lull that pulled her under.

For the first time in many nights, there were no moons or stars. No hoods or inky nights. It was just as it was. A sleep.

Her mind hadn't tortured her with the sight of Jamie rushing out with Marcela in his arms, drenched in red. The sight had made her stomach churn even as she had stared at the lady in the garden and her white rose.

The whole incident was like a puzzle, with a huge centerpiece missing. One moment she was huffing and puffing and the next Marcela had transformed and the training facility had become a battleground. All she could remember was the thirst to kill it. A thirst that ate through her, controlling every fiber of her being.

But now, not a single inch of that feeling remained. The waves of ease that Lady Minerva's hands brought had seeped beneath her skin, battled the immense guilt within and transformed overnight into a feeling of serenity that enveloped her as she stretched awake.

That feeling only lasted for two moments until her thoughts and memories came crashing down. She sighed. At least they had waited for her to breathe a little.

As her gaze drifted out the window, she marveled at the breathtaking sight before her. Beneath a muted blue sky, the expansive garden stretched out, bathed in the soft glow of various lights, casting a magical ambiance. The fountain, seemingly smaller in the distance, had lights amplifying the air of grace and elegance it emitted, much like the ambiance The Lady of The Mansion exuded.

Lady Minerva had mentioned a lot about her parents, yet one name stood out.

Terrwyn.

That was the same person Zack said the people of Wlerden called The Witch. The one who ruled with The Roveñya.

Did that mean they both had a hand in the way Wlerden had changed? Because Lady Minerva was right, how would things have changed without their involvement? But what of The Court? How had the past wielders let all this happen? Or were they so powerless without their gems? And had they known about her illness? The illness Lady Minerva said she had before her parents had vanished.

Then she wondered if this illness, the one various doctors couldn't cure, could have caused their disappearance. What were the odds they left to get her better treatment? But why would they leave and not tell anyone?

Unless they had discovered something about the illness that they couldn't share with anyone. Did they fear the people of Wlerden would judge them, thus making them hide?

But when David had narrated how his family met her parents, he hadn't mentioned she was ill. As she thought about it, she realized the only time she fell sick was because of food poisoning. She had never been ill before or after that.

She ran her hands over her face. There were so many questions, constructing one enormous puzzle, and now the event of yesterday added to the complicated web her life was.

As her eyes rested on the Lady in the distance, she realized what the one centerpiece was. Her memories. Lady Minerva had told her about her parents, but only with her memories would she know them better. And for Aunt Helen-Olwyn-to have sealed her memories away, that meant something laid within them, something she hoped was the key to the labyrinth of her life.