Ellie Parkinson and The Realm of Evil

The west garden in the spring was Princess Katrinetta’s absolute favorite place to occupy her free time. Between her lessons and the hours she spent at court, those precious moments were few and far between. On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she had found a few moments to scurry away. It had been difficult, particularly since her mother and the rest of the council members found it suitable to constantly school her on the upcoming ceremony. She couldn’t even bear to think of the name. Every time she did, a fluttering would stir inside of her stomach, like the beating of a thousand butterflies’ wings. It didn’t matter that her cousins and the other women who had already gone through similar proceedings assured her that ripple didn’t originate in her stomach but slightly lower in her abdomen. They said it wasn’t fear that made her insides stir; it was longing, but Princess Katrinetta knew her own anxiety when it reared its ugly head. The closer the day drew, the more she wished she could skip it entirely.

Sitting on her favorite marble bench between two perfectly manicured forest-green shrubs, she took in a rainbow of flowers. The tulips had always been her favorite, particularly the violet and blush ones, although today it was the rich crimson of the roses that caught her attention. The flower garden was the one place where she could rest assured her mother, Queen Rona (who bore the ridiculous title Empress of All the Lands East of the Galacial Mountains and Queen of the Provinces South of the Compazional Sea) would never seek her out. That wasn’t to say that she wouldn’t send someone else to find her wayward daughter out among the insects and other winged creatures. Knowing she’d have some time to compose herself, to secret away the smile and careless posture she wore whenever she visited here, before having the duty and expectations thrust upon her again, always made Kit head off to this place first whenever she had a moment or two.

Today, she watched a beautiful azure butterfly flutter about, its majestic wings grazing the tips of the flower petals as it darted between the tulips. She imagined what it might be like to have wings, to be free from the burdens of queendom and courtship. Would she dance among the flowers as the insect did now, or would she be carried away by a windstorm?

Her answer came quickly when a magpie swept down from the sky, catching the unassuming colorful creature in its sharp beak and downing it in one gulp. Kit watched in horror, her hand flying to cover her mouth as the beautiful bug was no more. If she had been in the butterfly’s place as she was imagining, she would be fluttering about in that magpie’s stomach now. She supposed the bird must be experiencing a similar sensation to the fierce flapping inside of her own gut. Kit felt as if she’d consumed a thousand creatures like the frail insect she’d just seen meet its demise.

“You’re such a gentle soul.”

The voice behind her was a familiar one. She didn’t even turn to look at him. Even if he hadn’t spoken, it wouldn’t have taken her long to realize he was standing there. Something about his scent, the mix of leather, a woodsy note like cedar, and his personal musk, always announced Eli’s presence and instantly brought a soothing smile to her face. This time, she had failed to notice his approach. Perhaps it was the slaughter of the hapless creature in front of her that caused her to miss him stepping between the bushes behind her. She took a deep breath now, hoping he didn’t realize it was his scent she was purposely filling her lungs with, as he sat down beside her, facing the other direction.

He waited for her to tilt her head toward him before he said anything else. Kit leaned in his direction, not even sure what she could say. He was right—she was a gentle soul, so much so that her mother often questioned how she could possibly be her own child. But her aunts and the other council members confirmed it time and again—they had been there at her Birthing Ceremony, after all. And they would be there at the other ceremony, just the day after tomorrow, as well. At the thought, Kit tasted bile rising up in the back of her throat, wondering how she could possibly get through it. It didn’t matter how many of her family members had already lived through the experience; thoughts of the royal physician, Mikali, touching her in such a personal way, his crooked fingers probing before he entered her, made her feel light headed and queasy.