Moon's Flower: Book 6 (Kingdom Series) (12 page)

“But June,” the primrose wailed, “how could she do that to Calanthe?”

Sighing loudly, Danika tossed up her hands. “I’ve thought long and hard on that question for ages, at first it used to make me very angry. That a love so pure, so true was besmirched as it was. Because by the time June blabbed about it the two had known they could never meet up again, so why tell?”

She looked at her rapt audience, but rather than answer all eyes stay glued to her face. Danika smiled softly.

“I suppose she told because she felt like she had no other recourse. In the end, as much as I wish it wasn’t so, Calanthe had broken fairy law.”

The tiger lily’s jaw jutted out. “But how can falling in love be a crime?”

“A question I’m sure Calanthe asked herself many times,” Danika sighed. “I’m sure if Calanthe were here she’d say it wasn’t June’s fault after all.”

“But that was her friend, and she betrayed her trust,” a bell-like voice she hadn’t heard before piped up from somewhere in the back.

“Yes, she sort of did. But think for a moment. How many times did Calanthe put her into a terrible predicament? And how often did June beg her to stop? And how many times did Calanthe listen to her? Hmm?”

The children’s eyes were still angry, some of them even shone with gathering moisture. Danika hadn’t meant to make them cry. The purpose of this tale was to keep it alive in the hearts of the new generation. That perhaps they could learn from this sad tale and never repeat it in their own lives, that the pain of one might prevent the pain of another. But she wasn’t so sure the children were gleaning that truth from the tale.

“The truth is children, as much as I feel for Calanthe, what she did was reckless and foolish.”

“Now you sound like Galeta,” Genevieve hissed the accusal.

“Heaven forbid,” Danika rolled her eyes theatrically. “Though I hate the cow with a thousand loathings,” she shuddered, “in a way, she was right. Calanthe thought only of herself, she never took into account how her deception hurt her friend. Because the fact was June was honor bound to tell, it wasn’t her fault.”

“But surely it made the betrayal more painful?” The primrose asked.

“I am sure that it did. If there’d been anyone who would betray Calanthe, I’m sure she never thought it would be her friend.”

“So what happened then?” The tiger lily prompted. “To Calanthe and to June and Jericho?”

This was the part of the tale Danika always dreaded the telling of. It was so pointless, so awful what Galeta had done that it never failed to bring tears to Danika’s eyes.

Voice wavering with clogged tears, Danika sniffed, taking a moment to gather herself.

“Calanthe lost everything…”

~*~

The next month was brutal. Harder than even the first. Worst of it was, Jericho was fairly certain Siria had no idea what he’d done.

Yes, he’d told Calanthe he wouldn’t come back for her, but that was before, when he thought they’d been caught. When the murder of crows had tailed his every move and made him
know
it was over.

But each day Siria came to him, and each day she was all smiles and more pleasant than she had been in ages.

In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d gotten along so well. But tonight he was free, and the moment he could, he would return to Calanthe’s side. Somehow, someway, they would have to make it work.

To think last month that he could simply have her, and put her away. Never touch her again, look upon her face as the passion inched across it had been utter madness.

He was lost for his fairy and the temptation was simply too great.

Already he’d showered and shaved and dressed in whatever clothing he could grab. He wasn’t altogether certain it matched, black trousers and his red button shirt, it made him appear as if he meant to visit the Red Queen’s court, but no matter. Calanthe would understand he was in a rush to get to her and nothing else mattered at the moment.

Standing on the balustrade he counted down the seconds as the weakening rays of sunlight gave way to the gathering tendrils of darkness.

“Jericho,” Siria’s dulcet voice caressed his back.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He’d come this far, he couldn’t afford to show his panic or his need to get back to Calanthe as soon as possible. Expelling a sigh, he twirled on his heel. “Siria. It is good to see you.”

A delicate blade of a brow lifted. “Is it?” Humor laced her words.

Cocking his head because he’d not seen this teasing side of her for some time, his smile was hesitant. Just a ghostly stretch of lips. “It is tonight,” he admitted freely. For the past fortnight their relationship had grown civil, almost to the point where he could begin to move on and let go of the past.

Her words weren’t so sharp or bitter. There were no threats veiled behind sugary words.

Feeling a need to convey his sense of relief over it, he strode to her side and clapped a hand on her bare shoulder.

She was dressed as provocatively as any other night. Tonight her hair was her gown and it billowed in golden, shimmering waves down the length of her, the ends of it scraped her ankles.

But unlike other times when she used her allure to try and beguile him, tonight she seemed thoughtful, maybe even a little distracted as she kept staring over his shoulder.

“Siria, I tell you the truth. I am relieved that we can finally be friends. The strain of our relationship these past years has always weighed heavily on my conscious.”

Amber eyes flicked to his. “Mine as well, Jericho.” She sighed and a gentle breeze lifted the scent of sun soaked honey and tea off her body. Steely determination glinted back at him. “Come to have tea with me tonight. Please, Jericho.”

Every month she asked and every month he’d always said no. But if she was putting forth the effort, shouldn’t he at least do the same? For the next three hundred years she was the only day in and day out companion he would know. Was it possible that they could finally lay their feud to rest?

The more he thought on it, the more the idea held merit. If they could just talk, without all the nonsense of past hurts laying between them, then perhaps he could eventually come around to telling her of Calanthe.

Of course Calanthe had her own problems in their relationship, but one bridge at a time.

Twisting his lips, he glanced over his shoulder. For the possibility of a future with his fairy, he could spare an hour.

Lifting his hand, he held it out for her. “Come then, let us tea.”

Her smile was as radiant as her suddenly glowing body. But on this night, the sun held no sway over him. His glow also manifested, together they were the yin and yang of the cosmos and for this night, they both held court.

In no time they’d entered her half of the castle.

Where his was shrouded and darkness and lit only by the twinkling glint of millions of stars, hers was an oasis of light. It wasn’t as powerful as it might normally be, because it was he and not she that reigned over the sky at the moment. But it was brighter than any light he’d beheld in ages.

For a moment he stood upon the demarcation between darkness and light and just soaked it in. Allowed the heat of her world to sink into his flesh. After feeling nothing but the coolness of night for two centuries, this heat was almost unbearable. But he stayed where he was because he thought he’d never get to feel it again. Like a vampire crawling out of the shadows, he tipped his face up to her glorious warmth and smiled.

“I like it when you do that,” she whispered, startling him from his reverie.

Blinking, he licked his lips. “Aye. When I stand and stare like a hypnotized fool.”

A throaty chuckle tumbled from her lips. “You did not need to deny yourself the sun for so long, Jericho. I’ve been here waiting. Waiting for you each month to realize I’m not your enemy.”

She spread her arm and a tea table appeared before them, over loaded with buttery scones and lemony curd. Pitchers of flowery tea tickled his nose and silver trays full of triangular sandwiches were piled high, coming almost to his waist.

Feeling unburdened and gentlemanly, he walked to the opposite side and held out the chair for her. Tossing him a grateful smile, she sank into the white, wrought iron chair.

He sat beside her. Neither spoke until they’d taken their share of treats from the table and poured their tea.

Calanthe wasn’t expecting him, he kept reminding himself as the seconds continued to tick by. Spending even an hour longer apart from her was agony, but as he continued to tell himself, his visit tonight would be a surprise. Hopefully a pleasant one, his body tingled as he remembered the way she’d mewled and purred in his ear the last time. It made the wait only a little easier to bear.

“Are you my friend?” he finally asked after swallowing his bite of scone.

“What?” She looked up with wide eyes.

“You say you’re not my enemy, are you then implying that you’re my friend, Siria?”

Her answer was long in coming. “And if I say I was?”

Swallowing the hibiscus laced herbal tea, he debated on his answer and as he did so he methodically set the teacup down precisely on the white china plate before answering. “Then I’d have to ask you why? Why now?”

The firm skin of her flesh barely moved with her frown. Siria could pass for a very young twenty, when, in fact, she was far older than most inhabitants of Kingdom. Unlike the Man in the Moon who changed out every five hundred years, she’d been around for a long, long time. He wasn’t sure how long, he’d never asked. But he’d understood from past conversations that her cycles did not run in the way his had.

It was a topic she rarely discussed and he’d always wondered why, but that was a tale for another day, as she had always used to say.

“And my reply would be, why not? I’ve not been subtle in my attempts to approach you. I never have. I’ve not hidden my feelings for you. So why act surprised?”

“If we’re being perfectly honest, then I’ll tell you it’s because you’ve made no bones about the fact that there is always a scheme.” Leaning back, he licked his lips. “Why? What is it about me, Siria, that draws you the way it does? Why is it that when we get to talking of our relationship, or rather the lack thereof, you become vindictive?”

Her teacup hovered around her lips as she held onto it with both hands. “I was wrong,” she finally whispered, “I realize that now.”

His brows dipped. Had she apologized? Surely he’d heard her wrong. “And after two hundred years you suddenly figure this out?”

She didn’t answer until she’d taken several sips of her red colored tea. Setting it down, she dabbed her lips with a napkin. “I didn’t just ask you here today for tea, there was another reason for it.”

Every fine hair on his body stood on end as his heart picked up in rhythm. “What did you do, Siria?”

“No, you misunderstand. I’m helping you, Jericho.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “For two hundred years I’ve tried to hang on to you, tried to force you to love me as you once did, but I was wrong.” She opened them again, piercing him with her sincerity.

“What are you talking about?” The good food he’d eaten just moments ago now sat like a brick in his gut.

“I had a visitor, two in fact, a few days past.”

“Who were they?”

If she was telling him this, it stood to reason the visitors had called upon the sun for one reason only. Because someone knew something about him, about Calanthe. He clenched his jaw.

Her fingers slid over his fist resting on the table.

“Stop,” she chided. “No harm shall come to that fairy, Calanthe, is it?”

The very blood in his veins ran cold as ice as he snatched his hand away.

“Jericho, listen to me!” her voice rose in tenor. “I am telling the truth.”

“Then stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what they said,” he growled.

“They came to share a story, one I’m sure they thought would drive me mad. I will admit to being hurt, wounded, furious for a moment… but no longer. After days to think on it, I’ve realized one glaring truth. I held on to you too tight, I drove you away and the only way to bring you back to me again is to regain your trust.”

“Siria…”

“Calanthe has broken fairy law by…” she gulped, “lying with you.” Her eyes wouldn’t meet his.

She looked sincere, what his eyes were seeing—the grimace across her face, how her body was curved in on itself, as if wounded but trying to be fearless in her pain. And in his heart he wanted to believe her.

But Jericho was no fool. Siria had clung to him for two centuries with the thread of hope that someday their relationship could be what it once was. And over the years he’d learned to keep his thoughts to himself, because once when he’d dared to mention the beauty of the sylphs flying beneath their castle (angelic beings with wings of pure gold and heavenly voices) she’d cast down a jet of light so powerful she’d scorched their delicate wings to ash, forcing the poor creatures to forever walk the land, never again to know the freedom of the skies.

It was why he’d feared her ever discovering what he’d done with Calanthe. So to hear her now, tell him that this was alright with her, it didn’t make sense to him.

“And you’re saying you’re alright with that?” he asked incredulously.

The amber in her eyes blazed. “Of course, I’m not. It kills me to have discovered it. But,” she held up a bronzed hand and took a fortifying breath, “that’s when it dawned on me that if you love something, you cannot keep it caged. If you love it, you must set it free to decide for itself whether to stay. And I love you.”

If she was being honest, then he had no choice but to be so himself. “I love her.”

She flinched.

“And I do not say it to hurt you, Siria. I feel a great many things for you.”

She scoffed. “Scorn, apathy, regret…”

“No.” He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips and planted a quick kiss. Her lips parted soundlessly. “Well, yes, at times I do.” He grinned weakly and she chuckled out a breath. “But these past two weeks proved to me that we can be friends again.”

She nodded. “It is why I’m being honest with you. Because, I will never stop holding out hope. But I also will not punish you for what I led you to do.”