I had lived in the shadows all my life.
Few would believe that a fae would reside in darkness, especially the daughter of a fae king, but I did. There was the shadow of my dearly departed mother. She was the most beautiful creature, but I had few memories of her. The illness had taken her when I was very young. Everyone praised her beauty and poise. Her kind words were remembered by all the people whose lives she had touched.
They had no kind words for me.
“You're not quite as beautiful as your mother, Princess Elara, but perhaps this new hairstyle will suit you.”
“You have an air not quite as regal as Queen Althea, Your Royal Highness, but perhaps that is for the best. We wouldn't want you to outshine Princess Callista.”
Princess Callista. My elder sister by fifty years. I could have asked her about our mother. She had fifty blessed years with her. But I couldn't.
I sat in the garden at the edge of the woods. Father's palace stood a hundred yards away, atop a small mound built by our ancestors. Between that glistening marble and me lay a wonderful world of nature and nurture. The expansive gardens were dotted with all the trees of my father's realm. There were fruit and shade saplings, and ancient oaks that tickled the sky with the tips of their branches.
The flowerbeds were my favorite part. They overflowed with all the colors one could imagine, and their scents mingled to create a perfume that no perfumer could hope to duplicate. I sat on a bench at the edge of that beauty and admired it.
The garden ended five yards from where I sat on one of the many delicately carved stone benches. The gravel paths petered out into a jungle of grass and weeds. The trees and flower beds gave way to the rustic vines of the ancient forest of Erebean. Legends were told about how our ancestors had emerged from the very trees, given life by our creator to bless the world with our gifts.
“Good afternoon, Princess Elara.”
I started from my reverie. The speaker was an old fae gentleman dressed in coveralls. He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and heavy boots, and his knees were stained by a morning's work in the gardens.
“Good afternoon, Georgios.”
His blue eyes twinkled at me. “You look like you had your mind in the clouds instead of on the earth where a fae ought to be.”
I laughed. “Not all of us are gifted with your green thumb, Georgios.”
“And a good thing, too, or I'd be out of a job,” he mused as he eased himself onto his knees in front of a bed. He grasped a pair of scissors in one hand, which he used to snip a closed rose bud. The man grasped the flower in his other hand, and the bud opened, revealing a beautiful purple rose. He held it out to me. “A beautiful flower for a beautiful princess.”
“You're too kind, Georgios,” I told him as I moved over to kneel at his side. I accepted the flower and inhaled the sweet scent. “My favorite.”
“It's because they match your pretty eyes,” he complimented me as he went about trimming the dead roses. “Just like your mother's, they are. I remember the first time I saw her, shortly after she married your father. Such a pretty little-ouch!” He jerked his hand back and studied his thumb. A dot of red blood popped up. He sighed. “I suppose my thoughts were in the clouds, too.”
“Allow me,” I pleaded as I held out my hands to him.
“Oh, no need to waste your gift on me, My Lady.”
“I insist, and the flowers would be glad to know their caretaker is in the best shape.”
He sighed, but held out his hand. I grasped the finger between my hands and focused. A faint white light flowed out of my body and into his. The glow ringed his wound and sank beneath the red dot. I released him and brushed away the blood with my thumb. Clean skin lay beneath it.
“There,” I announced as I smiled at him. “Now your flowers can rest easy.”
He drew his thumb to eye level and inspected my work. “That does beat all that you can do that, My Lady. I've seen a lot of gifts given to our people, but never one so blessed. Pneumos must have plans for you.”
I laughed. “I think the only plans He has for me are to live out my life in these beautiful gardens.”
He frowned. “You outta be able to go out into the kingdom and help the people.”
My good humor was dampened by his words. I dropped my gaze to the flower clasped in my hands. “I would like to visit other places and help people.”
“Like visiting that forest beyond there,” Georgios commented with a twinkle in his eyes. He nodded at the woods beyond the edges of the garden. “You were staring at those trees, My Lady. I think you long for a life beneath that canopy.”
“Perhaps I do,” I mused as I looked back at the foliage.
Shadow covered much of the forest floor. A soft breeze floated out from the darkness and wafted over us. I breathed in the sweet scent of cool leaves and hidden secrets.
And something else. I furrowed my brow as I tried to discern the balm that tickled my nose. It was old, like the smells in my father's library, and yet thick with the scent of rolling waters crashing down a turbulent river. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself.
Georgios set a hand on my arm. “Are you well, My Lady?”
I shook off the chill and offered him a smile. “Oh, yes, I'm quite well, thank you.”
He pursed his lips as he looked me over. “I do worry about you, My Lady.”
I tilted my head to one side. “Worry about me? Why?”
“Well, I get the feeling you're not happy here,” he commented as he nodded at the palace. “There's some unkind folk in there that don't make your life easy.”
My heart fell, and I bowed my head. A sad smile remained on my lips. “There have been troubles of late.”
“With your sister?”
I sighed. “And Lady Pikria. I am afraid she still harbors ill feelings for me since being reassigned as my lady-in-waiting.”
Georgios patted my arm. “Well, don't you go letting her push you around. I've known that bear all my long years, and she'll back down if you speak your mind to her.”
I set my hand over his and smiled. “Our differences have not gone so far that I have needed to right the conversation.”
“Princess Elara! Princess!”
I sat up and stretched my sight down the garden paths toward the castle. A fae younger than myself scampered up one of the paths toward us. She wore the plain tan dress that all our female servants were required to wear. Her long red hair was braided down beyond her waist and bounced to and fro in her frantic run. The young fae's slippers stumbled over the rocks.
“What is it, Melina?” I answered.
Melina stumbled up to us and pressed a palm against her heaving chest. “You…you must return to the palace and prepare for your sister's birthday party. If you don't come now, you may be late!”
I shot to my feet and studied the sky. The sun was fast approaching the eastern horizon. “Is it that late already?”
“Yes, and Pikria is so very angry! She has threatened to abandon you to dress yourself if you do not come soon!”
“Then I'll come at once,” I promised as I hitched up my dress.
I took a step toward the glisten palace, but something made me hesitate. That same sensation pricked at the back of my neck. I half-turned toward the shadowy woods. A soft breeze floated out of those timbers and down the garden. That same unusual scent of ancientness tickled my nose.
Melina's shout from down the path broke me from my trance. “Princess Elara! Please come at once!”
“I'm coming!” I yelled. I reluctantly turned away and raced down the trail.
I could not have guessed the creeping abyss that seeped out of the gloom of those trees. It slipped along the garden and followed us down the path to the palace, a silent ink stain that blotted out the garden's colors as it passed.
