Neela

Neela

My eyes flew open in the early morning before the sun was up. Bright yellow flowers had bloomed among the twisted vines that formed the canopy of my four-poster bed. They definitely weren’t there yesterday.

“Are you flowering because I slept with Ronan?”

I didn’t often address my furniture directly, but I was happy to make an exception. After all, a lot had changed in my world lately. I kept peering at my bed, waiting to see if the vines would move to spell out ‘YES,’ but I was disappointed.

“Maybe next time,” I said to my bed, patting the mattress kindly.

I couldn’t remember my dreams except for the general sense they’d been anything but sweet. Sinful was a better word. It was all naked Ronan, hard muscles, and his hand splayed across my lower back. Mmm, I would definitely do that again.

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander back to yesterday. The way Ronan’s hands had felt on my body, the taste of his lips on mine, the way his muscles had flexed beneath my touch. My body hummed with pleasure at the memories of our passion.

I stretched my arms above my head and sat up, feeling the warm sheets slide down my naked body. My eyes were drawn to the large windows that framed a breathtaking view of the Rose Palace’s gardens, with the hedge maze glowing a pale green. The sky was still dark, but the first rays of sunlight were just beginning to seep into the horizon.

It was remarkable to think this really was my ancestral home. The palace was mine, all mine. I didn’t need to ransack the rooms for gold to sell on the streets or stuff silverware into my oversized pockets.

I didn’t even need to worry about the Ascension rite anymore. I padded to the window and looked out, and warmth coursed through my veins, similar to the sensation of unleashing my inner magic yesterday. The air had crackled with electricity as I had let loose my power. It was exhilarating, and the thought of doing it again made me tingle with anticipation.

I got out of bed, feeling energized and ready to take on the day. As I walked around the Rose Palace, I noticed that everything seemed to be glowing with a soft aura. It was as if I was seeing the world through new eyes, and I couldn’t help but smile at the beauty of it all.

I decided to take a walk in the gardens. The morning air was crisp, and the dew drops on the flowers sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. I breathed in the scent of the blooms and smiled contentedly to myself. For the first time in a long time, everything was perfect. I had a beautiful home, a lover who left me breathless, and a growing power inside me.

Some of the flowers were wilting. I frowned and reached out to touch a chrysanthemum, and a jolt of magic surged through me. The petals were soft against my skin, and the scent was overwhelming. I could sense the inner workings of the flower, the way the energy flowed through it.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, the experience was over. But something had shifted. I felt a connection between myself and the plants in a way I never had before, not even yesterday when I’d dominated the carnivorous plant that was trying to eat me. I could almost hear the flower whispering to me, telling me its secrets.

My mind flicked to the Library of Whispers, which I hadn’t dared to enter since the night I first arrived in Verda when Liz caught me snooping around and warned me of the dangers.

But this morning, I felt invincible. Besides, it was my library, and it might have answers about my parents. Like why they hadn’t fought against Gaia’s Curse but had chosen to give me away.

My feet carried me to the Library of Whispers inside one of the large petals of the palace. As soon as I pushed the heavy wooden door open, a tug in my chest pulled me toward a book. It had a gold spine and a title that danced, looking more like whispers than words.

Without thinking, I reached out and touched it, feeling a deep sense of connection as if something within me had known this was exactly where I should be. The moment my fingers touched the book’s cover, a surge of warmth washed over me, and I was transported to a different room, to a different time.

My mother stood tall, her slim figure draped in a green velvet gown and a coronet of wildflowers resting atop her lustrous dark hair. In her arms, she held a tiny bundle wrapped in white muslin and swaddled in a blanket of soft petals. Her face was illuminated by a gentle smile, eyes sparkling with love as she looked upon her baby. Me.

The nursery was filled with a rainbow of colors, from the soft pastel tones of the curtains and bedspread to the vibrant hues of the toys scattered around the room. The furniture was made of pale wood and the walls were painted a cheerful sunshine yellow with white accents.

Birdsong drifted through the open windows. My mother’s voice was low and melodic as she spoke, her words gentle and filled with hope for the future.

A small child with a mop of dark curls and a runny nose sat in the corner, playing with miniature horses. His eyes were wide and curious as he looked up at me. With a jolt, it clicked—this was Sebarah, the brother I’d never met, the fae I’d wasted my time hating just because he was accepted and I wasn’t. But Seb was just a toddler when I was born, a tiny faeling, and my banishment from the fae realm wasn’t his fault.

My mother looked up at a sound, and my father entered the nursery. He was tall and broad-shouldered, looking exactly how I imagined a War Wielder to look, except that his eyes were soft, twinkling like stars as he smiled at us both. His hair was blue and wavy, slightly disheveled as if he had just come in from a walk in the woods. He wore hunting leathers with a blue belt that brought out the deep blue tones of his eyes. They were the exact same shade as mine.

“We can’t keep her,” he said sadly.

My mother’s eyes filled with salty tears, and she held me close to her chest as though she could protect me from the Earth Goddess herself. “Gaia can’t have her,” she sobbed. “I won’t allow it.”

My father placed a hand on my mother’s shoulder, offering comfort. “We have to send her away for her own safety. It’s the only way.”

Mom shook her head and held me closer. “I won’t give her up. I won’t.” Her knuckles were white across my tiny back.

A shadow passed over the nursery window, dark and foreboding, then an eagle swooped into the room and lunged at my mother, trying to peck at me, feathers brushing against the walls and overturning a colorful mobile.

My father picked up a child-sized wooden chair and swung it at the attacking bird, shouting and screaming, while Sebarah huddled in the corner. Eventually, the eagle swooped outside, and Father closed the windows, leaning his back against them and panting.

The room sat in heavy silence for long moments. Even little Sebarah was quiet.

“That was Gaia’s third attempt on her life, and she is only three weeks old,” my father said in a low voice. “If you love her, Celeste, you have to send her away.”

My heart ached as I watched the scene unfold. I had never known my parents, never accepted why they had given me away. But as I watched them now, I understood.

My mother nodded, tears streaming down her face. “But where will she go? Who will protect her?”

“We’ll find a mortal family to take her in,” my father said. “Someone who will love her and keep her safe. And we’ll make sure she’s always watched over.”

My mother gave a slight nod, but her eyes were still filled with tears. “Promise me you’ll find her a good home. Promise me you’ll make sure she’s safe and happy.”

“I promise,” my father said, his voice heavy with emotion.

The memory faded, and I was back in the library, tears streaming down my face. I finally understood how they had made the decision to send me away. My mother’s salt and my father’s weary face strengthened me, even from so many years in the past.

But I still felt a sense of loss, of longing for the parents I had never known. And for the safe childhood they’d planned for me in the mortal realm that never came to pass. My human parents died young, and my fae parents too.

I wiped away my tears and took a deep breath, reminding myself that I had a new family now. The Rose Palace was my home; Liz and the other heirs were my friends. And maybe, just maybe, Ronan would become my lover.

I closed my eyes and focused on my connection with the plants outside the window, letting their energy flow through me, feeling my emotional well refilling.

Peace and forgiveness settled into my heart. I closed the book and realized it was the one I’d signed on my first visit to the Library of Whispers. I traced my finger over the ink. Perhaps this was always meant to be.