Seeds of Sorrow (Immortal Realms Book 1)

The journey through the Veil had been far more taxing and horrifying than the one from Lucem to Midniva. Perhaps she’d blocked out the screeching, moaning, and feeling as though eyes were following her because she’d been so excited to reach another realm. But this time, horror filled Eden to the brim. She hadn’t wanted to succumb to the dizzying feeling. She’d never swooned in her life, but everything clashed together at once. The news, the sounds belonging to distant monsters in the Veil’s wickedness. There was no fighting that.

Even as she slumped, she felt Draven stir, his arms forming a steel cage around her, and her last thought had been that at least she wouldn’t perish in the Veil, not as long as he kept his arms around her.

But when she woke, even the offering from a friendly face did nothing to quell the panic within. It was dark, so wretchedly dark that she could barely see beyond the male soothing her. What had his name been? she found herself wondering.

It didn’t matter, for they weren’t stationary for long. She was pulled into the chariot with Draven once more, all too aware of the hard planes of his body against hers. With his cape still around her, he invaded all of her senses. The aroma of woods and a hint of florals tickled her nose, but all thoughts of what Draven smelled like vanished the moment things became dire.

Eden wanted to believe Draven, that Hannelore would be fine, but when she glanced behind them, her hair whipping into her face, she beheld the harpy battling the manticore and wished she hadn’t had the courage to do so. Whether the female behind them was of the dark world or not, Eden didn’t want her to die.

Discord surrounded them, but she kept her eyes trained forward, willing herself to block out the snarling and snapping of teeth. Against her wishes, Eden trembled like a leaf in the wind, her teeth chattering. It didn’t cease until they arrived in a more populated area.

Compared to Lucem’s soft, vibrant beauty, this place was the exact opposite. There were no pink or yellow blooms dancing in the warm breeze, there were only gnarled trees, harsh lines, and jagged rocks. Even the homes they passed, although they made Eden wonder if they were of wealth, were dark and pointed structures. So different from Lucem’s smooth stone structures that sought the light no matter which way one turned.

As they approached the castle, Eden’s brow furrowed as she tried to make it out. Set against the sky, it was difficult to see, even with the moon’s light shining down on it. It was situated on a cliffside, that much she could tell, and it jutted toward the sky as if it were a blade.

The closer they grew, the easier it was to discern more than just the outline of the castle, and although it wasn’t ghastly, it wasn’t home either. Eventually, they made it to the courtyard, which passed in a blur as Draven escorted her inside. Although Eden still wore his cape around her, the cool air brushed against her damp cheeks, sending an involuntary chill up her spine.

There was little to comfort her in the halls. With no adornments to soften the dank interior, it matched the harsh quality of the exterior, but at least it didn’t lure one in with false hope it was anything but that.

All she longed for was a bed to sleep in, to bury herself in the comfort of blankets and plunge herself into slumber in hopes of waking from this nightmare.

But it was the sudden realization she didn’t even have a room of her own, let alone a bed, that truly undid Eden. What difference was this study from a holding cell? She couldn’t bring herself to look at Draven, not as she blurted for him to leave and not as his quiet steps faded down the hall.

The room had been lit, but there was no fire in the hearth to warm the room, which only chilled her all the more.

“I will return, my lady,” Seurat offered in a quiet voice, bowing before he left.

While he was gone, Eden paced to the bare window in the room and surveyed the steep slope below. Everything was still cast in darkness, even as the second moon rose and bestowed a muted golden light over the land. Eden’s eyes adjusted, and she could make out figures moving below.

Perhaps her mother was right. It wouldn’t be long before she perished in this world. How could anyone thrive in a land of darkness, where one misstep could be the end?

Footsteps outside the study pulled Eden from her thoughts. Seurat had returned with the chaise lounge as promised, and instead of blankets, there was a pile of what looked like strips of fabric.

A strangled noise escaped Eden as she fought back another bout of tears. “No blankets, either?” Eden sounded more perturbed this time, and she was, although her voice still shook with fright.

“My lady, I promise you that by the time you wake, there will be a room ready for you with a bed and proper blankets.” Seurat moved toward the fireplace, situating twisted pieces of wood before he ignited them. “We fell behind in your preparations, and for that, we all apologize.”

The flames cast warmth onto Seurat’s dark face, revealing a smattering of calloused skin—or, no, as Eden studied him closer, they were scales. What sort of creature is he? She wondered but would not ask. Perhaps it was better not knowing, because if she were to have one friendly face to seek out, it was better to not know the monster beneath. He had, after all, been the one to soothe her on the knoll, offer her water, and still sought to offer her comfort now. It was more than Eden could say for Draven.

Draven.

His name echoed in her head, forcing her hands to lift toward her face. Her evening had begun so wonderfully, but now it was tainted because when she closed her eyes, she still saw him, his gaze unguarded, amused, and playful.

It had been a lie.

One breath, another one, then Eden lowered her hands to her sides. “Thank you, Seurat. I need sleep. I’m so . . . tired.”

He nodded in response, bowed, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

The room was so quiet that when the fireplace popped and crackled, it startled her. She turned to the lounge, picking apart the fabrics to position them into layers of blankets. Then she shoved the makeshift bed closer to the fireplace, for it was still too far from the warmth for her liking, and when she lay down on it, an annoyed sigh escaped her. The voluminous skirts were both a curse and blessing as she situated them in a way that would form another protective layer while she slept. Before she settled in, she peeled the heels from her feet, wincing when she flung them to the floor. Lastly, she tugged Draven’s cape more securely around her upper half, both grateful for and resentful of its presence.

With fresh tears spilling onto her cheeks, she gave in to the pull of sleep.

When Eden woke, it was to darkness. No, that wasn’t exactly true; it was that stronger, warmer glow of the moon she’d seen before falling asleep. Much to her dismay, she’d not woken from her nightmare. She shifted, pushing the layers of fabric off of her, only to regret it instantly. The room was chilly, though the fire hadn’t gone out, which meant someone had come into the room while she’d slept.

Eden sat upright, finding her eyes swollen from a night of crying. There was no mirror in the room for her to check on herself, but she must have looked tragic.

Curiosity whispered to her, pulling Eden to her bare feet and out of the study. Once in the hallway, her eyes had to adjust yet again. It was so dark, and the skirts rustling around her ankles served as a tripping hazard. In hindsight, it had been a dreadful choice for a dress, but she hadn’t known she’d be condemned to spend her life in Andhera.

Eden’s hand brushed against the wall, allowing it to guide her down the corridor, but movement ahead caused her to freeze. What was she seeing? A rat? Squinting, she moved forward, then made out bulbous eyes, a hooked nose, and broad, winged-out ears. As the pieces clicked together, Eden screamed in shock, which only prompted the ghoulish figure to squawk back in horror. Something scurried beside her head, then the lamp next to her lit, which illuminated a similar creature, this one with a large tear in the left ear.

A scream lodged itself in Eden’s throat, unable to break free. She stumbled backward and saw another creature grabbing at her sheer skirt, wrapping it around its head and cooing in delight.

Eden grabbed it from the little beast, then turned on the balls of her feet and ran through the hall, hoping she didn’t collide with some hidden creature, or worse, somehow plunge to her death.

Around a bend, she saw the golden light of the moon spilling onto the stone floor, and she ran for it, catching herself on one of the stone beams before she collided with the sill. Panting heavily, she peered outside, and from this vantage point, she saw an abyss with fog rolling around the surface.

Eden wondered what lay in the depths, which prompted the memory of her mother’s words. If she were to die here, would it not be better to get it over with, rather than waste away slowly?

“My lady,” a familiar voice said, startling Eden out of her melancholy thoughts.

She twisted to face Seurat, hand on her chest. Could a heart beat so hard that it leaped from its cage? Eden was certain hers was about to try.

“We have prepared your room for you, and a change of clothing. Later, if you wish, you can decide on a wardrobe.” Seurat motioned toward the hall. “If you’d follow me, your breakfast is also waiting for you.”

Eden blinked. “My breakfast in my room . . . ? So, His Majesty isn’t going to join me for breakfast?”

Seurat had the good grace not to laugh at her or make her feel even more of a fool. “No, and for that I apologize. He will not be joining you for your meal.”

It didn’t matter, Eden decided. What were they to discuss? How he’d fooled her? How he’d baited her in the garden, how he’d teased her and followed her with his gaze in the ballroom?

“I won’t be eating either, but thank you for your efforts.” As Seurat halted at an open door, Eden ducked inside.

“His Majesty has instructed you to write a letter if you need anything from home. You may ask for any of your belongings.” Seurat motioned to the quill and parchment on the writing desk.

Surprise registered on Eden’s face. She pushed the black feather with her fingertip, then glanced back to Seurat. “What of my prior life would fit here? What purpose would it serve other than to remind me of what I’ve lost?”

All of her wardrobe would be useless in Andhera. They were flimsy dresses made for warm, sun-filled days, not meant to endure cold or wind. A portion of her jewelry would suffice, but what for? It wasn’t as if she would be attending any fetes after this. There was little that Eden possessed that she could bring with her. But her bunny, she couldn’t imagine leaving him behind with her mother. As foul of a mood as she’d be in, Eden feared for the little thing.

Seurat, for as kind as he’d been, seemed at a loss for words. Perhaps he knew there was nothing he could do in that moment to comfort her.

Eden nodded. “I’ll be quick.” She heard the door click softly, then she turned to the writing desk and penned a letter to her mother. It was brief, nothing that told of what she’d seen or how she felt, only that she was sorry still and loved her dearly. Afterward, she wrote down her list of needs and finally took notice of the room that had been prepared for her.

A lit chandelier illuminated it, and against the walls were lit sconces. Despite the castle’s coolness, the room was warmer than the study, but perhaps it was the way it had been outfitted.

Instead of bare walls, deep teal drapes hung as decorations, for they weren’t needed for blocking light. Gold fringe accented the edges, occasionally shifting as a draft caught them. But it was the bed which made Eden take pause, a bed framed with black engraved wood, with layers of thick blankets the same teal as the drapes.

If it weren’t for the reason as to why she was here, perhaps Eden would have been touched by how much effort they’d put in for her.

On top of the comforter, Eden noticed a change of clothing, and on the floor, a black pair of heeled lace-up boots. Unclasping the dark gray cape from around her shoulders, Eden tossed it to a heap on the floor, hating all that it represented. Deceit, betrayal, and loss. Turning away from it, she focused on the fresh garments before her.

It took some doing to wriggle out of the gown, and a few strings of almost-curses, but Eden managed. However, when she held up her new outfit, she realized there was no skirt but rather breeches. If her legs hadn’t protested when the draft swept into the room again, she would have questioned the design, but perhaps they’d taken pity on her Lucem blood and decided to swath her in as much fabric as possible.

In a few minutes, Eden shimmied into the midnight blue outfit. Inside, the breeches were lined with a soft fur that kept her legs warm, and the long bell sleeves that covered her arms had the same fur too. Silver decorative buttons lined the front of the built-in vest, leading up toward the double leather collar. Once her boots were on, she scooped up the leather throngs which no doubt had kept the bundle of clothing or blankets together.

She searched the room for a mirror, and when she found a floor-length one bordered by embellished silver, she used it to pull her hair back high on her head. The female in the mirror startled Eden, for she didn’t look like herself but like one of Andhera’s people. Was it a trick of the glass? Hesitantly, she reached out to touch it, but it didn’t ripple. She looked closer and saw the frightened, lonely fae that she was.

With a shaky sigh, Eden snatched the letter from the desk and left her room.

“The letter, as His Majesty asked.” She handed it to Seurat.

He pressed his lips together, clearly warring with what to say next. “Why don’t I show my lady the gardens? While not what you’re accustomed to, I trust you’ll find it as beautiful as we do.”

As much as Eden wished to inspect it, the thought of stepping foot in a garden at this moment was the furthest thing from her mind. And yet . . . What were gardens like in Andhera? If there was no sun, no warmth, what grew?

She nodded, deciding to follow him.

Eden took note of every twist and turn of the castle, not casting her eyes to the floor but to her surroundings. She saw one of the creatures that caused her previous hysteria and pressed just a little closer to Seurat.

“What are those things?” she questioned.

“Those are our goblins. Don’t worry, they’re harmless, and are most happy when working. Sometimes they can be a little mischievous.”

Eden blanched. “Mischievous how?”

“Harmless tricks, like stealing things.”

Wonderful. Eden groaned internally. But if they were harmless, she had nothing to fear at the very least.

Outside, a cold wind whipped the strands of Eden’s bound hair. There was a dampness, like it was on the verge of raining. Did it rain in Andhera? She touched her nose, feeling how cold it was.

“This way, my lady,” Seurat said. “While you slept, you missed quite the bout of weather. I hoped you’d awaken so you could witness it.”

What did he mean by that? “What of the weather?” Even Eden knew it was grasping for blades of grass as far as conversation went.

Seurat never did get to tell her, for as they rounded a turn, Eden met Draven’s eyes.

“Another time, my lady.” Seurat bowed to her. “My lord.” He bowed to Draven, then left the two of them quite alone.

It felt far different than being alone with him before. As if she were more vulnerable.

Words tumbled together in her mind. She was unsure of what to say to Draven, how to greet him. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for affording me the luxury of a bed and furnished room.” The words were mild enough, but they held fine-toothed barbs within. Then she lost her confidence and looked away from him.