for my reply, instead she simply walks towards the open glass doors at the other side of the atrium. Her ladies-in-waiting follow closely behind her, their floor-length capes swishing on the ground. Trying to calm my racing thoughts, I step forward and follow her outside. I expected the guards to follow us, but I realise with surprise that it’s just the queen, her maids, and me. Either there are more guards out here that I can’t see, or she doesn’t consider me a threat. Both of those could be true, and knowing the queen, they probably are.
The gardens are beautiful, and there’s not a leaf out of place or a weed to be seen. The white gravel I’m walking along weaves a path past expertly manicured trees and bushes of bright pink roses. It’s quiet, the only sound the soft rumble of the waterfall where the river meets the sea. The gardens are actually in the center of the palace, the white stone walls rising up above us, and at the edge of the garden is the river the palace is built over. The queen’s wearing a beautiful white dress today, with bronze embroidery on the sleeves and on the bottom of the skirt. A bronze sash around her waist matches the diadem that’s resting on her immaculate hair. The dress is very different than the usual fitted gowns she seems to favour, giving the impression that she’s soft, virginal almost.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I summoned you here.” Her question makes me jump, her musical voice bringing me out of my musing. She’s farther into the garden by a rose arch, the white petals matching her dress, making her look like she’s part of the garden.
“Yes,” I admit, as I meander down the path towards her. “I know you don’t particularly like me, so it was a surprise.” This is a risky thing to say, but she said she wanted the truth, so that’s what I’ll give her.
Raising an eyebrow at my candid response, she gives a short laugh before turning back to her flowers and running a finger over the petals. Under her touch, they seem to bloom even more, the leaves becoming fuller and the plant brighter as it leans towards her like she is the sun. “You’re right,” she replies. “I don’t like you, but I have to keep you around because of Vaeril.” I’m still staring at the plant that now looks magnificent as it grows up the rose arch, but at the mention of Vaeril, I bring my attention back to her. “If I kill you, it could kill him, and I’m not willing to risk that.” She moves onto another plant, and the same process happens again. Any plant she touches springs to life. Paying attention, I notice I can sense her using magic, but it’s strange, almost unnatural, and it feels like ants are crawling along my skin.
“What do you mean?” I question, and she turns from the plant to look at me with an arched brow again.
“You’re bonded.” Panic flares to life inside me. She knows? Vaeril wanted to keep that a secret because he’s worried what she would do with the knowledge. The queen is jealous, and knowing one of her favourite elves is bonded to me might push her over the edge. Her smile pulls into a grin as she sees my surprised, fearful look. “Oh yes, I know about that, I figured it out long ago.”
What do I do? She could be lying and trying to get answers out of me, but if I say anything, I could be confirming her suspicions. My thoughts whirl as I try to decide how to react. On the other hand, I want to know what she meant about how Vaeril could die if she was to kill me, but how do I ask without sounding ignorant?
I needn’t have worried, however, as the queen seems to see right through me. “You really don’t know anything about us, do you?” she queries, smirking. My lack of knowledge seems to please her as she turns back to her plants. “When one person in a bonded couple dies, the other often perishes with them too. Vaeril is…important to me. I won’t lose him again.”
The information resonates with me, and I know she’s telling the truth. What does that mean for Tor and Grayson? Our links are different than the one I share with Vaeril, but we’re still connected. If I died, would all of them