The Diablarist King

7 - A Stroll in the Garden

     The gardens at this castle are full of dark flowers to match the dark, weathered stone. There are Queen of Night tulips, chocolate lilies, indigo prunellas, deep red roses climbing up the black iron gates, and so much more. I long for maybe a lavender honeysuckle or some wisteria to lighten up the mood. Ustria seems an overcast place, possibly due to the dark magic and the threat of Alekso's wrath constantly looming over the townspeople.

     I'm having trouble reconciling my avid lust for Alekso with my fear of him. One minute I think about the face of Indrid, the man Alekso nearly boiled alive the other day, the next I think about his arms wrapping around me from behind, kissing my neck as he holds me against him and explores my body with gentle hands. I knew it was too good to be true. Yes, Alekso is not going to kill me or keep me as a prisoner, but he's still Alekso Aurelian, tyrant king. I can only home my goals to help show him a better path are attainable. Until then, I hope it is not wrong of me to enjoy my time with him, especially his expert touches...

     "You seem quite lost in thought, your highness." I jump a little and almost crush a flower in my hand as Prince Jean walks up behind me.

     "Oh! Good morning, your grace."

     Jean takes my hand, kissing it lightly as he bows, then stands up straight. "Admiring the garden?"

     "Yes, it's very beautiful, if a bit... gloomy?"

     "I designed the layout and chose the flowers," He admits. "I must have been in a sort of mood. But come, my queen, let me show you a part of the garden I think you will enjoy."

     Jean has always been kind to me, but I still feel a little uneasy around him. He seems to have no motivations; he's just happy to indulge in the benefits of being the king's uncle. Still, we walk a little ways past the main garden with its dark leaves and blood red flowers to another, smaller area. A little greenery, I suppose, underneath a beautiful stained glass window. He takes a few steps ahead of me and spins around, spreading his arms out proudly.

     "Jean," I manage a little bit of a smile. He's surrounded by lots of green plants, but nothing particularly pretty. "Uhm. It's, well... It's beautiful, your grace."

     "No it isn't." He laughs, reaching for a plump, green leaf. "It is boring. A bunch of plain, unopened buds. But there is a reason for that, your highness. You see, these plants only bloom at night."

    My smile grows more genuine when I realize this is meant to be a secret garden. What a novel idea! "You designed this too?"

     "Yes. This garden is especially for me, you see. I have always been a night owl and when I would be up here in Ustria, I would hold lots of excited banquets and parties for the nobility. I would sneak out here when it was all over, or if I just needed some quiet time to myself, and relax among the flowers under the moonlight."

     "That sounds so romantic," I sigh.

     "This one here is called a chocolate daisy," Jean taps his fingertips against a closed bud. "It is bright yellow, but it releases the most divine chocolate scent. And this one over here is an August gardenia. Utterly lovely. And here, these are evening primroses. They start the whole show, the first to bloom in late afternoon. But that is the magic of this little thicket I have created, Eva; only a select few know that this is more than just a patch of plants, more than a garden. It's a secret. A sweet secret for me to enjoy. And now you."

     At his most charming smile, I find my cheeks turning a little pink. "Thank you, your grace."

     "I just think you are someone who can appreciate the magic behind this. I mean, it is magical, in my opinion." He laughs and then reaches for my hand. I take it, letting him guide me further along. As we walk together, I feel the eagerness radiate off of him when he points to a flower or a particularly interesting tree and explains it to me; what it means and why he chose to have it planted here. The originally drab, dark garden begins to come to life merely by all the work he put in to it. It dawns on me then, how he seems happier to be showing someone his hobby than anything else. It's as though he doesn't have a real friend here and is looking to find one in me.