Page 53 of Ashes of Aether

My manor manifests before us. The elaborate gates stand tall, no different from any other day. The two winged lions on my family crest roar at each other as they always do.

I hate how normal everything looks. That my manor is untouched by the destruction which wrought through the city and the darkness which murdered my mother.

“Reyna,” Eliya mutters, nudging my shoulder. It’s only now I realize that the enchanted gates won’t open for her and that we have stood here for some time.

I squeeze my fists. I don’t feel the sharpness of my nails against the softness of my palms. I could be drawing blood, and I would not know.

“Reyna Ashbourne,” I force out. Each syllable is a tremendous effort. Yet I heave them all out, and the aether shrouding the gates glistens in response. They swing wide open, and Eliya guides me through.

She leads me along the path which winds through our gardens. I hate the colorful flowers blooming everywhere. The pansies, the tulips, the primroses, the marigolds—I hate them all. They are too vibrant, too cheery.

They remind me of my mother.

The faerie dragons sweep up and down the gardens, ensuring the enchanted buckets thoroughly nourish each flower. It’s as if nothing has changed—as if my mother is alive.

But she isn’t. Heston killed her. He raised her from the dead with his vile magic. My father destroyed her ghost.

A sob wracks through my body. Eliya can urge me no further.

She lets me stand there for a while, as I cover my face with my hands so I don’t have to look at my mother’s bright and beautiful garden. I weep into them.

Finally she nudges me forth, and I’m so lost my body complies. I vaguely see Zephyr fluttering over to us. His head tilts to one side as he silently asks what’s wrong, why tears streak my cheeks.

“Not now, Zephyr,” Eliya mutters, waving him away.

But the faerie dragon doesn’t leave. He watches as we climb up the manor’s stairs. His violet wings beat back and forth.

Eliya opens the doors and helps me inside. Zephyr glides through behind me. Too busy helping me through the hallway, Eliya doesn’t shoo him away.

We pass paintings as we ascend the staircase. Many are my mother’s, and they depict quaint landscapes and delicate flowers. I can’t bear to look at them and keep my gaze fixed on the steps. My fingers curl around the polished bannister, and I use it to haul myself up. Zephyr’s wings flap behind us.

She guides me through to my room and sits me down on my bed. Zephyr perches next to me.

Lavish golds and creams decorate my room. The cabinets are all gilded with flourishes, and an embroidered rug stretches across the marble floor. Eliya presses the switch beside the door, and the aether crystals high above flicker on. Their brilliant light makes the threads weaved through the rug shimmer like sunlight.

I stare blankly at the rug.

Eliya says something and then leaves. Since I don’t catch her words, I don’t know where she’s going.

Zephyr nestles into me, his head resting in my lap. His amaranthine eyes stare up at me, quizzical yet concerned.

I tentatively run my fingers across his head, just between his antennae. His azure scales are smooth and cool beneath my skin. The motion is more soothing than I expected, so I stroke him again. Zephyr growls softly, his forked tongue flicking out with contentment.

His eyes shut, and we remain like that until Eliya returns.

She carries a porcelain bowl and sets it onto the counter beside my bed. Her eyes scan across the crimson stains which mar my robes. “Let’s get you out of that.”

I give her a small nod, but don’t rise. I stop stroking Zephyr, however. He lifts his head and peers at me.

“Zephyr, you’ll have to move,” Eliya says. “Reyna can hardly get changed while you’re sitting on her lap, and she can’t sleep in those robes, can she?”

He doesn’t move. At least not at first.

Eliya glares at him until he slides from my lap and onto the silken sheets beside me. He rests his head in his talons and sulks at her.

She pays him little attention as she helps me out of my robes. Sweat and blood makes the fabric stick to my skin, and removing them takes several minutes. She finds a loose nightgown in my cabinet and helps me change into it. The material is silken like my blankets, but plainer and complete with thin straps.

I try to crawl into bed, but Eliya stops me.