by Riana Lucas
“I agree. This is the perfect time. Once we get back to Court, Holly, you can start your treatments immediately while we prepare the rest of the guards. We will discuss your future with the Seelie Court once this is all over and Damien is dead once and for all.” I expect her to comply with the order I have just given her. I have no intention of allowing Holly to leave the Court again.
She does not agree, however. “Let’s just go.”
Thorne opens his mouth to argue, but she holds her hand up and walks past him, making her way toward the Seelie Court without further acknowledgement. We all follow silently behind.
Holly does not have the confidence that the rest of us do in the treatment and potential cure that Rowan has discovered. Hopefully, once she has had a treatment, she will become more confident. Until that time, we must focus on the new information Holly has provided us.
Although I am still worried about Holly and the decisions she will make, I cannot help but to think about the upcoming battle. My body begins to hum with excitement and anticipation. The time to attack Damien is finally here.
About the Author
Riana Lucas is actually a duo of writers who are best friends and go by the names Nichole and Angela in the real world. Realizing that gobbling up books like hungry caterpillars and then discussing them for hours at a time wasn't fulfilling enough, the team decided to write their first book together. The Deadly Flowers Series was born out of a kernel of an idea and has grown into a four books series. The two have realized their true calling in life and plan to make a career out of writing books with strong characters who evoke true emotion.
Also from Riana Lucas
Chapter One
I have been summoned to the unseelie king's throne room.
As I walk toward the massive wooden doors, I look ahead to take in the white marble that covers every surface of the room. The veins of pure gold running through the marble are the only color on the floor, ceiling, and walls. There are no paintings, statues, or any other sort of decoration, leaving the room cold and dreary. This is because the king wishes for there to be nothing that could take the attention away from himself. He insists on being the center of attention, which is why he also demands that his throne room, where he spends most of his time, be as well.
This immense room is located exactly in the center of the unseelie castle. In the center of this room, King Foxglove presides over his people from a large dais made entirely of marble, like the walls and floor. In the entryway is a narrow black carpet that stretches to the base of his dais, where it meets the four marble steps leading up to his lone throne. The king's Throne of Thorns is the only decoration, if one would even call it that, that he permits within this room. The throne is made entirely of black oak and, as its name suggests, is covered completely with thorns. The thorns cover every inch of the thick oak branches that weave in and out of each other, forming a sturdy and deadly chair that only the king himself is able to sit upon. If any other fae dare try, the chair will come alive and slice them into ribbons.
King Foxglove now sits comfortably on that throne as he watches the scene before him. Damien is standing at the base of the dais with the halfling I retrieved earlier in the day. I knew the Halfling was going to be difficult, but I had not expected that he would need to be brought before the king. A tiny voice in the back of my head tells me I should look away because what is happening is wrong, but I know that it would be seen as a sign of weakness and that is something I cannot afford. So instead I listen and watch.
"Why have you brought this halfling before me?" When the king speaks, I see the Halfling shrink back just a fraction as if he had not been expecting the menace in the king's voice.
"This halfling—" Damien's voice is as equally frightening, "—does not wish to cooperate with the commands I have given him. I am seeking your approval to teach him how we do things here at the unseelie court."
A glint sparks in the king's eyes as he sits straighter in his throne. "We cannot have that now, can we?" He lets out an evil laugh that sends goose bumps up my arms. Thankfully they are covered, so no one can see. "Permission granted, but carry out his punishment here so that I may witness it."
"As you wish, My King." Damien gives a slight bow of his head and turns to the halfling beside him. Now that I see his profile, I also see the eager look in Damien's eyes. The halfling notices it as well and his body shakes with fear. I do not blame him. Damien has the ability to bring a man to his knees with a mere look. He has the pale skin that is common among the fae, but his features are more defined and sharper than most. His cheekbones, chin, nose, and ears, are all pointed and his black eyes are so cruel and scary that they are difficult to look into. His jet-black hair reaches past his shoulders but is always pulled back and tied with a thin strip of leather at the nape of his neck. Although he is lean like all fae, he is all muscle and his height is not matched by many. Standing at almost seven feet tall, he is the epitome of what the unseelie court stands for: power, strength, and the ability to evoke fear into all.
The halfling does not give up, though. He tries to regain control of his body and opens his mouth to say something, but does not get the chance. Knowing what is coming, I choose that moment to blink my eyes more slowly than usual so that I do not have to witness what Damien does to him, but that does not prevent me from hearing the screams or stop my imagination from running wild with images.
I have been taught by Damien, my mentor and guardian, that an unseelie fae shows no mercy and that pain and torture are the only way to prove our dominance over others. We are to be cruel and unforgiving, our creed being kill or be killed. This way of thinking is what I have been trained to do since I can remember, yet there is a small voice in the back of my head that tells me this is wrong. It is an instinct that I have to fight constantly.
I have to fight now as I wait patiently for my presence to be announced to the king. To distract myself from the rest of what is taking place in the throne room, I glance at the servants bustling about conducting various chores. Most of their tasks are trivial, but the fae of the unseelie court live to serve their king and will fulfill his every whim. Some even sit at the base of his dais, awaiting the most mundane task or hoping to catch a glimpse of his cruelty in action. These fae are not only loyal, but bloodthirsty as well. Today their king is not disappointing them.
Thankfully the sounds stop and my attention is captured by a fae scurrying across the throne room floor toward the king's guard, stationed at the base of his dais. As he approaches, I see Damien walk out of the room with a look of satisfaction on his face. Unsure of what has happened to the halfling and not wishing to know, I move my gaze back to the guard, who is now relaying the news of my arrival to the king.
As I wait for him to acknowledge my presence and allow me to step forward, I take him in. The king is intimidating even by fae standards. He is very tall with sleek brown hair that barely grazes his shoulders. His face is long with sharp angles and his eyes are dark like black pits, though it has been rumored that he uses glamour to hide his true eye color because it does not look nearly as lethal as the black. A large scar trails along the side of his face from the corner of his left eye to his jawline. This imperfection could easily be covered using his same magic, but he knows how fierce the scar makes him look so he makes no attempt to hide it.
To complete his commanding appearance, he adorns himself with many jewels, the largest of which rests upon his right hand. It is a mesmerizing stone the size of a large cherry and completely black. Looking into the stone gives one the feeling of falling into a bottomless pit. The only difference between it and the king's eyes is that the stone actually sparkles. When I think about it, I realize that I am glad that I do not have the privilege of looking my king in the eye.
No fae is permitted to look the king in the eye; to do so would be punishable by death. So I have to quickly avert mine when the king finally looks up at me with his ever-present evil smile. "Ahhh, look, everyone." At his words
, the entire room becomes quiet and everyone turns their heads toward me. "Poppy has finally decided to grace us with her presence. Come, join us."
At the king's command, I make my way along the black carpet to the base of his dais, ignoring the way his words make me feel. "Of course, Your Majesty," is my only response as I take my place at the foot of the stairs leading up to the king's throne. The king is well aware of the fact that I not only came the moment I was summoned, but also that I have been present during the entertainment portion of his afternoon. He is being sarcastic and insulting in hopes that I might show some sort of defiance. Instead, I stoop to one knee, resting my arms on my bent knee, with my head bowed to show respect and devotion to my king.
"Poppy, we are at war against the seelie fae. I have no doubt the outcome will be in our favor, but you know I do not like to leave anything to chance. Our army is undoubtedly stronger, with many fierce warriors, but I would still like to recruit others to strengthen our forces." His booming voice echoes throughout the entire throne room, commanding any who hear it to listen and obey without question.
I am no exception, and do so without hesitation. "Of course, Your Majesty." My head is still bent, but my voice is strong and sure, just as the king would expect from one of his warriors.
"I have another mission for you. I need you to go to the human world to retrieve a halfling."
My posture stiffens and I want to raise my eyes in defiance at this command, but I know that is what he wants. I can almost hear the smile in his voice. King Foxglove takes great pleasure in making those beneath him do things they do not wish to do. Again, I am no exception to his taunting. He is well aware of my feelings about the human world and of humans in general. I am one of his best warriors for the assignment, but I think he sends me on more missions not because of my skill, but because of how miserable it makes me.
He also takes great pleasure in punishing those who defy or question him. For this reason, I keep my head bowed and force myself to respond appropriately. "Of course, Your Majesty."
"Very good, Poppy," he says smugly, knowing how much I despise this assignment, but also knowing that I will do whatever he asks of me. "See Damien so that he may give you the details of your mission." I am not surprised by this command. I go on missions often and although the king is the one to inform me of a new one, I always meet with Damien for more detailed instructions.
"Of course, Your Majesty," I reply obediently but do not rise, not until the king officially dismisses me. As much as I hate the task that is set before me, I am faithful to my king and would never show him any disrespect. He commands all that goes on in his kingdom, including entering and leaving his presence. Therefore I wait patiently and quietly with my head bowed until the king gives his command. To do otherwise could cost a fae her life.
This time the king is merciful and after only a few moments he dismisses me with a distracted command of, "You may go". Something else has already begun to occupy him and I am surprised he did not forget to dismiss me altogether, leaving me there for much longer. As loyal as I am to my court, I am well aware that Foxglove is a cruel king and often finds his enjoyment in others' suffering as well as tests of loyalty and obedience.
As I walk toward the throne room doors, my eyes remain cast downward until I have cleared the threshold. Only then do I look up, seeking out Damien.
Damien is not only my commander and leader as the second-in-command of the unseelie army, but he has also been my guardian and instructor since I was old enough to begin my training. I do not really remember when I went from being with my parents to being cared for by Damien; in fact, I do not remember my parents at all. My only clue that my upbringing was unusual came as I observed other children with their parents and realized it was more common to be raised with them than separated from them.
When I first noticed this, I'd asked Damien where my parents were and why they did not care for me. He'd informed me that my parents were killed during a battle with the seelie court, and he was appointed my guardian. As he was such a fierce warrior, it only came naturally that he would also become my instructor later.
I started my training with Damien on one of my early birthdays. Usually children were not permitted to start battle training until they reached early adulthood, but Damien did not agree. Seeing my acceptance of what happened to my parents and my determination for revenge, he deemed me ready and presented me with my first weapon the morning of my tenth birthday. It was a pair of daggers. The hilts were wrapped in strips of black leather that crisscrossed over one another, making a sturdy grip. The blades were silver but the metal was so dark that they were almost black, with hints of burgundy streaking up toward the tips like flames of a fire. I was surprised by how well I took to using them, almost as if they had been crafted specifically for me. My fingers brush the hilt of one of those daggers now, returning me to the present and reminding me of my purpose.
Although it is mostly quiet, I hear hints of music and laughter coming from the different doorways as I pass and occasionally witness a fae stumble out of one room and into another. I even hear muffled screams or sobs, but none of this is unusual for the unseelie court. The unseelie fae are an evil, cruel crowd, but they are also a boisterous and mischievous group that never misses an opportunity for a loud party with plenty of fae wine. Because this is a normal occurrence, I do not even spare a glance toward these activities. If I think too hard on what they are doing and how I may feel about that, I could lose sight of my purpose. I have a mission, one that I am not too happy about, and the sooner I complete it, the sooner I can return to the privacy of my own room. In order to do that, I have to speak with Damien.
As per our usual routine, he is at the end of the hall waiting for me, just outside the main dining room. When I approach, he nods a stiff greeting as he silently falls into step beside me. We continue down the hall side by side, heading toward the east garden, both remaining silent until we reach the privacy of the garden.
The faery realm consists of acres and acres of gardens and forests. No matter if one is unseelie or seelie, the single thing all fae have in common is their love of nature. Within the faery forest, there are endless sprawling countryside's full of flowers and wondrous creatures. There are trees that are beautiful beyond imagination. They grow so tall it looks as if they reach the clouds, their branches enveloping the sky as if it were swathed in a warm embrace. But the faery forest is not always a safe place to enjoy nature, so there are gardens within the protective wall of the castle.
The east garden has an undeniable beauty that I cannot help but to be drawn to. It is an oasis that allows me to breathe fresh air and commune with nature. Upon entering the garden, I am immediately greeted by the sound of birds chirping and the cool breeze of early spring kissing my skin. Sweet smells of various flowers fill my lungs as I take a deep breath and glance at my surroundings. The garden is contained within shimmering white walls barely visible beneath the lush, deep green vines growing over them. The vines are covered in bold and brilliant multicolored flowers, all of which bloom consistently throughout the year. These hybrid flowers have been cultivated by the fae using natural flowers mixed with just a bit of magic. They are grown for their breathtaking beauty and heavenly aromas and they never fail to live up to their potential. The flowers and shrubs are meticulously maintained, just as all the gardens in the faery realm are.
My eyes move past the lush greenery to the decorations that are just as precisely placed. Marble statues are scattered throughout the garden, helping the vivid colors of the foliage stand out. They vary in size and depict important faeries throughout the long history of the fae. There is a cobblestone path that winds around the statues and leads to the middle of the round garden where, in the very center, a small pond contains dozens of multicolored fish. Bold and vividly colored, they move rapidly throughout the water, skimming the surface in a way that looks like tiny rainbows are streaking through the liquid.
On either side of the pond are woo
den benches. They are fae made and consist of intricate patterns of branches woven in and out of each other. The branches twist and turn around one another, giving the appearance that the pattern formed naturally, not by the magical hand of a fae. Damien takes a seat on one of these benches and I sit beside him. He waves his hand to cast a minor spell that will keep anyone else from entering the garden until we have completed our conversation. I cast a covert glance his way as he does this, hoping to catch a glimpse of his mood. His face is blank but I am not surprised by this. Damien is very good at controlling his emotions, so much so that I often wonder if he has any at all.
He catches me watching him and I quickly square my shoulders as I tamp down on my instinct to look away. If he knew the thoughts that occasionally went through my mind… well, I am not sure what the consequences would be, but I do know that they would not be pleasant. He narrows his eyes for a moment before he pulls a paper from the breast pocket of his jacket and hands it to me. Using that as an excuse to move my gaze from his, I open the paper that will contain my orders as Damien explains them.
"Poppy, I know you just returned from a mission, but the king is growing restless. He wants all of the halflings from the human world brought here, and as you're one of the only warriors that seem to be able to complete your missions in a timely manner without causing more problems that I have to go clean up, you are being sent out again." I hear the anger in his voice as he says this. Most of the warriors that are sent on similar missions tend to play with the halflings or humans before bringing them back. I prefer to be more professional, which is why I complete my assignments much faster than most.