And I was his.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m so sorry you couldn’t stay last night. I hadn’t realized the toll this would take on you. Looking back, I realize that it was insensitive of us to expect you to be ready for socializing so soon.”
My mother spoke with practiced elegance before taking a bite of toast. The breakfast table was awkward and lonely without Cypress. We spent most of the night together, but he ended up disappearing before sunrise. I wanted him here, but I knew that I needed to make sense of this rocky relationship with my parents soon, and I couldn’t do that with my overprotective assassin hovering over me and glaring at them. He had a tendency to terrify everyone.
“Druids are social beings. We’d throw parties every day and night if our kingdom wouldn’t get exhausted,” my father interjected. “Community gathering is how we show affection. It’s how we celebrate and mourn. We crammed four thousand people in the ballroom for mutual mourning when you d-died,” he further explained.
I steeled my shoulders. “I am sorry that happened. Obviously, I’d have preferred that not to happen.” Although if I’d been raised in this house, who knew who I’d be right now. That was a thought for another time. “But I haven’t been raised a Druid. I don’t like social gatherings. Too many people in one place meant danger to me. And let’s not deny what was really going on here. You wanted to find me a husband, marry me off fast, and start over with a grandchild. That’s it, right?”
They looked at each other sharply. “Well...that’s what parents do.” My mother rubbed the back of her neck. “They arrange marriages for their adult children. That’s our job. You are well past the age of wanting to sit at home with a tutor. We missed all the years that you’d want to spend with us. Adult Druids go on about their lives. That is the best that we can do for you.”
I sighed. Okay. Maybe they didn’t understand. Maybe this was what Druid parents just did? “Maybe you could teach me about Druids? Can we start there? My powers are so—”
“Powers?” my mother asked. “What powers?”
She and my father leaned in closer while side-eyeing one another.
“During heightened emotions, flowers grow. I don’t know how to explain it. I feel a certain connection to the moon. I hear voices…”
Saying everything out loud made me feel foolish.
My mother’s eyes widened for a few moments, but she quickly schooled her expression. My father gripped his fork. “I think we should absolutely discuss your heritage. Maybe if you understand our culture, you’ll understand how we show affection, hmm?”
I sighed in relief. “That’s all I want. Can we start over?”
My father spoke up. “Yes. I think that’s best. Ask us anything.”
“So what is your role as king and queen? What do you do? You have loyal subjects but no true authority, correct?”
My mother nodded and took a sip of tea before speaking. “Druids were created to bring balance to the world. I am your mother physically, but we are all children of the moon. It’s rare that the moon goddess speaks to anyone. It’s been many generations since a Druid royalty has heard her voice.”
“Really?” I looked between them. “It just sort of happened with me.”
“Your father has some power. He can ward this place, and he can give some of his power to the people around us. It’s why they support us. We keep their farms healthy, their powers thriving, the waters running smoothly. We make the flowers grow. Your father allows those things to happen for others by sending his powers outward. I have no power to speak of. Frankly, if you do, you’re the first female Druid to have any in generations.” My mother smiled sadly. “We’re pretty weak.”
Weak? “I can shoot vines from my fingers. I’m not sure how I’d send my power outwards. It’s sort of all consuming.”
My mother cleared her throat. “It used to be the opposite, but there hasn’t been a female born with power in a long time. You’re unique, if that is happening. Maybe that’s why they targeted her, dear. Maybe they knew.”
My father shook his head. “Maybe we missed a prophecy or something.”
They were so disengaged from everything, as though the things that happened didn’t take place to them but around them somehow. Had that been since I died, or were they always that way? And if my mother had no power and my father used his to protect the place and otherwise gave it away, who was going to teach me how to control these things?
“Let’s see what you can do. Let’s see how you do it, and perhaps I can explain it.” My father used the voice he did to direct the servants at me. It rubbed at my skin like he’d taken the sandpaper they used in the workshops at Nightmare to my skin. I ignored the feeling and focused on what he wanted to do instead. Okay. Yes, we’d practice. That sounded great. I could finally get some instruction.
“Sure. What should we do?”
My father grinned at me, the first genuine excitement I’d seen in his expression since I’d gotten here. “First? Let’s go outside.”
The gardens outside were absolutely beautiful. The floral notes kissed my sense of smell, and the warm sun beat down on my shoulders. The sound of a pond with a waterfall caught my attention as it flowed nearby, and playing bunny rabbits danced in the tree line. “I love it out here,” I whispered.
“Druids are naturally drawn to nature,” my mother explained while running her fingers along the bark of a tree. “It makes me sad to think you were denied the beauty of the world for
