I eye the matching brackets with a new, albeit bewildered, understanding. Zander said they would keep me “in check” if I got any ideas. I didn’t understand what that meant, but Annika is saying they quell my ability to use my affinity.
But I wasn’t wearing them that first night, and I didn’t feel any different. Then again, I was in a state of shock. Would I know what to do?
“My mother wanted to cuff you when you arrived, but my father insisted it would be a show of bad faith.” Annika’s lips purse. “I don’t know that it would have made a difference to the outcome of the night, but at least you wouldn’t have been able to turn a water fountain into a weapon.” She looks pointedly at the center of the garden where the pile of rubble has been cleared.
“I did that?”
“You maimed a dozen guards doing that.” Her blue eyes cut to me before reaching for another bloom. The yellow rose that unfurls beneath her touch is larger than the first.
Yes, I get it. Princess Romeria was evil. Annika wants to make sure I receive a full and thorough list of my crimes, seeing as I can’t recall them.
“To think you could have harnessed that river for your escape, and yet you did not. Instead, you saved me, allowing yourself to be captured.”
“Should I have left you down there to die?”
She sniffs. “It would have made far more sense.”
Boaz warned Zander about the water that night, and then Zander sliced open my hand with the dagger. Is this affinity what he was talking about? I study the pale line running the length of my palm. “What can I do?”
“Besides make water fountains explode? I’m not permitted to tell you that.”
I sigh heavily, my frustration swelling. I nod to the roses. “Fine. What can you do then?”
“Very little. Our affinities aren’t as strong as those of our Ybarisan cousins. Cheap parlor tricks, mostly. Coax flowers into blooming and hedges into growing.” Her blue eyes flash to a climbing rose vine. I watch with fascination as a tendril uncoils from the lattice and lashes out like a whip, cutting through the air, its thorns searching for a victim.
My narrowed gaze flips to her to find a small smile curling her lips. Suddenly the cut on my hand from the leafy archway doesn’t seem like an accident. What was it? A test to see if I would suspect her?
“Compared to what you can do, it is nothing,” she says, adding abruptly, “I think I’ve filled your head with enough for one day.”
“Already?” But I still have so many questions—about these casters, about the fates, and the nymphaeum. Where even is it?
She must see the crestfallen look on my face, with the knowledge that I’m going back to my prison. “The king has informed me that I will be responsible for taking you on escorts around the grounds going forward. So, perhaps I can provide you more information on another day.”
My heart skips a beat. I know there is likely some ulterior motive to all these considerations as of late—some way that I am being used that I am unaware of—but I will happily accept any benefits. “Tomorrow?”
She sighs heavily. “We’ll see what Zander wants.”
It’s nearly midnight when I settle onto the floor beside the door, my legs crossed at my ankles, the bowl of fruit in my lap that Corrin delivered with my regular meal this evening. I’m still riding the high from today’s stroll through the grounds with Annika, and the hope that the long days of being locked within these walls might soon come to an end.
“What kind of grapes are these?” I call out, knowing Elisaf is on the other side, pacing. I hold my breath, hoping for an answer.
“The kind that grow on vines, Your Highness,” comes the composed response with the telltale lilt of humor.
I grin. “I’ve never had anything like them.” The entire bunch fits in the palm of my hand. The fruits are a deep bluish black, no bigger than jumbo blueberries, and sugary sweet. I have yet to find a seed on my tongue. If they’d served these at those high-society charity events and not slimy fish eggs, maybe I would have been more eager to sample the food.
“That you can recall.”
A flash of panic stirs in my gut. “Right. None that I can recall.” I need to guard my words better before I inadvertently talk of a life I’m not supposed to remember.
“They are a treat from Seacadore and highly sought after. We don’t often have them, as they spoil quickly once pulled from the vine. A shipment must have arrived at the port in the last day or so.”
“I’m surprised Corrin gave me any,” I say more to myself, studying my spoon. I spent the past hour with it wedged between my wrist and the cuff in my attempt to pry this magical shackle off and discover this affinity to water I’m said to have. But the cuff remains intact, my wrist is sore, and I imagine Corrin will have a lot to say about the utensil’s bent handle.
I work on straightening it while I listen to Elisaf’s hollow footsteps, deciding which angle to coax a conversation from him. “Hey, were you my guard before the attack?”
“No, you had your own escort, Your Highness.”
“Honestly, Elisaf, you can drop the formality. It’s just us.”
There’s a long pause and then, “As you wish.”
“What was I like?” I ask around a mouthful of grapes.
“I didn’t spend much time in your immediate presence.”
“But you must have heard something? Or seen something? I know you’re always watching. I can practically feel your eyes boring through the door.”
His chuckle is soft, relaxed. It’s a moment before he answers my other question. “You smiled a lot. All the time when Zander was near. You made him smile, as well.”
“That’s definitely changed.” I think the man’s face would crack if he strained his stony expression.
“Your hands were never far from each other when you were in the same room. You would take long walks through the gardens at night, and you’d cling to his arm and flirt the entire time. You did not care who saw you. You appeared truly smitten with Zander.”
I think of the long walks I’ve seen the courtesans take and of the couple on the bench beneath the floral tree today, and my cheeks burn. “I’m having a hard time picturing that.” Then again, all I have to do is recall that moment in the tower to remember there is another side to Zander. I note the ring of familiarity in the way Elisaf said his name. “You’re friends with him. The king.”
“We’ve known each other for many years. Yes.”
“How many?”
“Too many.” Elisaf’s voice is closer. He must be crouching. “And I suggest you save questions about the king for the king so that I am not flogged.”
“Does he do that a lot? Hand out punishments every time someone does something he doesn’t like?”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
Right. I’m sure that would go over well. “So, what else can you tell me about the other version of me? You know … evil Romeria.”
Another soft chuckle carries from the other side of the door. It’s been so long since anyone I’ve spoken to has laughed in a genuine manner. “She was highly agreeable. She went out of her way to show herself to be a supportive queen when the time came for King Eachann and Queen Esma to pass the kingdom on after the union, and she deferred to Zander’s opinion in all matters of the court.”