Of Flames and Roses

Ara always went out of her way to say goodbye to Princess Lila whenever she had to go out for work. She never knew if it would be the last time she saw her.

Her friend and sister in all but blood had no idea what Ara did or how much danger it involved, and Ara meant to keep it that way.

She took the long way round to where she knew she’d find Princess Lila: the greenhouse. It was the only place in the castle the two could call her own, gifted by Count Thorn when they both turned fifteen. Gifted symbolically, of course. This was his castle, his estate. They were his, too.

“I just came to say goodbye,” Ara said, plucking a blue flower from a shrub and placing it over her ear. “I’ll be back really late.”

Princess Lila pried her eyes away from a shrub she had been trimming and scowled at Ara.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t ask Count Thorn to let you do something else,” she said, going back to her meticulous work. “There’s plenty of work to be done in the castle if he insists on you having a job. Besides, it’s not like you have to pay for your stay here. He has plenty of money to feed us.” She gestured towards the sky, more specifically, at the towering castle that loomed over the greenhouse.

It was true. Someone who could afford to run such a magnificent estate certainly had the means to feed and house twice or three times the servants and “guests” he already had.

Princess Lila gave Ara a quick glance, her eyebrows raised. Then she let out a long sigh. No one could possibly eavesdrop on them without being noticed. But there was no need to say what the two of them were thinking. They were one of the few lucky inhabitants of the castle that were fed and did not serve as food at the same time. And they were both grateful for it.

Ara quickly banished those thoughts from her mind as she watched Princess Lila work her way to a larger bush. She pulled out the yellowing leaves and continued trimming with the tiniest scissors Ara had ever seen. Sometimes, it was easy to forget she was a princess. With her blonde hair tied into a messy bun and her water-stained apron, she looked like any other of the Fae servants that worked in the castle. The afternoon sun shone into her green eyes, but she kept on working, unbothered by its piercing rays.

“You’re just jealous you can’t leave the castle, and I can,” Ara teased her. “Besides, I’m not going to the brothels. It’s a ball. For some high-and-mighty Hova from the capital.” A half-truth.

She knew Princess Lila wasn’t all that interested in leaving the castle, despite showing some curiosity about the city. She sometimes asked her about it, and Ara tried to give her a good description of the people, the buildings, and the atmosphere of the place. But she was terrible at describing things the way they did so in the books Princess Lila loved so much.

“Trust me, I have no interest in partying with the Hova,” Princess Lila said, yanking a yellow leaf from a shrub.

Neither of them had a choice, really. They were permanent guests if they wanted to say it elegantly. Guests that had spent almost fifteen years living in a gilded cage. Of the two, Ara couldn’t decide who had it worse. Princess Lila, who wasn’t allowed to leave at all and was always a few meters away from a personal guard, or her, with her own, unique arrangement.

They had grown up together in Count Thorn’s castle, studied, bathed, eaten, and slept together in the same room for most of their lives. But Princess Lila was still a princess, and by birth, an enemy to the emperor. She was spared the collar that hugged Ara’s neck, but she was still tied to Count Thorn through a different kind of invisible leash.

Ara’s mother had been a noblewoman before the war, but that title held no importance now. Her only value was being Princess Lila’s friend. And now, the work she did for Count Thorn.

She was never going to tell Princess Lila what exactly her work outside the castle entailed. She couldn’t, even if she wanted to. The collar didn’t let her disobey a direct order from Count Thorn. But even so, there were some things Princess Lila was better off not knowing.

Princess Lila thought Count Thorn sent Ara to do the books in some of the numerous brothels he owned in the city. Granted, she was good with numbers, but it was still a poor excuse if Princess Lila had cared to dig deeper.

Ara had come up with that lie on the spot when Princess Lila first noticed she was occasionally gone from the castle for entire nights, and the story had stuck. It was easier to maintain one constant story than to come up with different ideas to excuse her long nightly absences. It worked because it also allowed her to keep quiet. Princess Lila had no interest in knowing what it was like to work in a brothel.