Chapter 10

It may not have been the most practical garden, but it was certainly the most beautiful. As Miriam strolled through the wrought iron gate that arched above, she gaped at the climbing roses that bloomed in a riot of colors. Though Miriam had cultivated roses in her garden, they were in large part for medical purposes. Cupping a delicate pink one, she sighed in contentment as she sniffed its sweet fragrance.

"One would think you had not seen a rose before," Adrian mused.

Her thumb lingered on the soft petals longingly before she reluctantly withdrew. "I have roses in my garden, but they are never as pretty as these."

Gently guiding her along the path by her elbow, Adrian said, "I've heard that the trick is in pruning them in the right places."

"And what would you know about tending the gardens, my Lord?" she asked teasingly.

Pretending to huff indignantly, he said, "Mistress Healer, your words wounded my pride. I know more about these things than you may think."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically, and Adrian was fascinated that she could wiggle one without moving the other. "What is the medical purpose of roses, then, my scholarly lord?"

"Um... uh. Do you make rosewater with it?" he fumbled.

When she laughed, he protested, "It's not fair. Growing up with a Healer, you probably knew about the properties of roses before you could read. I have a country to run, and only knew about roses because I read things unrelated to court records when I want to relax."

Being in a good mood, she chose not to argue with him, but instead, hooked her arm around his companionably. He allowed her to lead them through a path thatched by climbing wisteria whose blossoms showered down. Her eyes became wide when she saw the living statues of neatly trimmed hedges. The leaping stag was clearly her favorite, for she spent much time studying the exact underlying structure that supported the growth. She winced at an especially uninspired one of the nude female figure, and Adrian hid a smile at the pained expression. They continued their stroll, fine gravel crunching beneath their feet.

"They can be used as a laxative, and are good for oral ulcers," Miriam said suddenly.

"Roses? Really?"

"When I was younger, I used to have more time to tend to roses, and could extract rose oil with my father's glassware" she began, "but I've been busy since my father fell ill. I love them, but I don't use them often medically, so there's little point spending time on them."

They came to the pond lying at the heart of the garden, a little decorative bridge spanning across its length and onto an island with a vine-covered gazebo. The surface was covered with flourishing water plants and the dragonflies that hovered above, their blue and red wings flashing in the sunlight. Miriam knelt down at the edge of the water, having no regard for the state of her clothes. She stretched out a hand so that she could brush against the purple petal of the waterlily, finally affirming to herself that they were real. Curious to distinguish between the waterlily and the lotus, she reached out farther, almost toppling into the water until Adrian scooped her up by the waist.

"We can explore later on a boat if you prefer," he offered.

She shook her head. "That's not necessary, Adrian. I can always come back later."

She turned her head towards him, flashing a bright smile. "Do you think there would be books on these flowers in your library? Mine told me very little."

He was stunned by the happy look on her face, for he had not seen such enthusiasm in the past few days. She look at the world with such childlike wonder and found such joy in simple delights in what many found to be ordinary. He hesitated before responding, "I would have to ask my steward. He would know the organization of the library better, but I'm sure there's a few books on the topic somewhere in the castle."

She returned to the gravel path, her shoes popping out of the mud with cheerful suction noises.

"Miriam, I have to tell you something," he said.

Her smile faltered at the troubled expression on his face. "What is it?" she asked in a small voice.

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Adrian finally said, "You can't come out here without Jordan or myself."

Her heart hitched as a flood of despair suddenly overwhelmed her, making it difficult for her to breathe. She thought that perhaps she now knew what a trapped animal might feel. A part of her would simply shrivel away if she were not allowed to go seek the solitude she so desperately needed in the forest or the garden.

"It's for your own safety," he quickly added. "But besides that, you are welcomed to come anytime you like."

"Oh, like I want to be here with a man hovering about," she retorted scathingly. "I can defend myself, thank you very much. You have witnessed it yourself, and I must remind you that I defeated your Swordmaster."

Adrian jogged to catch up with her as she stormed off. He grasped her arm in hope of stopping her, but she shook him off.

"Why, Adrian?" she asked, her eyes vulnerable. "Are you so afraid that I would run off? Do you not trust my word?"

"No, it's not that," he said urgently. He cupped her cheek in his hand. "There has been disturbing news concerning insurgents, and we just want you to be safe."

"Will I never be free to roam where I will?" she whispered, her eyes becoming unusually shiny.

"Someday you will." Holding her shoulders, he shook her slightly to get her attention. "When this whole mess settles down, you will be free. I promise."

She ducked her head, nodding so miserably that Adrian felt like the worse kind of ass. She looked at him with sad eyes and said, "Some birds beat themselves to death against the cage, trying to be free." She waved a hand at the garden and the castle behind it. "No matter how elaborate the cage is."

She walked on without him, saving him from having to reply.

"Miriam, wait. There is something you should see."

He took her to a grassy open space, the sunlight reflecting off the smooth surface of the object in the middle. When she could finally see clearly, her eyes grew wide. Stepping closer as if she were in a dream, she reached out tentatively, almost afraid that touching it would destroy it.

"It's a greenhouse," he said, now almost afraid that he had guessed wrong, that it wouldn't lift her from her misery.

"I've only read about it, but have never seen one before." She licked her lips in anticipation, her eyes eager once more. "I didn't even think it was possible to construct something out of so much glass."

She whipped her head around. "Can we go in, Adrian? Are we allowed?"

He sighed with relief, a smile creeping back into his face. "Of course."

He showed her the entrance, and as she entered, the humidity knocked the breath out of her. Adrian pointed out architectural features of the building, explaining the mechanism for lifting the glass roof so that air circulation would improve when it became too hot, and ways to heat the building during the winter. There were sections for growing tomatoes and other vegetables to sustain the castle reasonably well through the winter. Her eyes dashed in every direction, almost afraid that she would miss some sights. Tall trees soared above in one room while pots of flowers sat humbly on their benches in the next. As they entered the last room, Miriam gasped.

"Adrian, these are the most beautiful flowers I've ever seen," she whispered.

"They are my favorite too," he said.

"What are they?"

"Orchids, from the tropics."

She examined the structure of the plants, the fleshy leaves, the spongy petals, and the brilliant color. Some were spotted, some veined, some faded from one color to the next. She found the dazzling colors and the sometimes playfully structured flowers mesmerizing. Their sunny faces turned up to hers, as if they were fairies clothed in elaborate gowns and wings, and it was hard not to smile.

"I didn't know such flowers existed," she said.

He grinned. "Looks like you could learn more about plants that didn't have medicinal purposes."

She sighed wistfully. "If only I had a greenhouse. I can't possibly afford it, and certainly won't have the time or money to keep it in order."

She got up from her crouch, shaking out her skirts. Giving the flowers a final caress, she headed toward the door. They walked back to the castle silently, each absorbed in their own thoughts. Though Miriam was upset about her situation, her naturally sunny disposition made her determined to make the most of her confinement here. There were libraries to explore and gardeners to pest. Not to mention a king to care for.

Flipping open a pocket watch impatiently, Adrian glanced at the time. "I suspect that the morning counsel is about to adjourn."

"I should go see to the king," Miriam said.

The king was sleeping when she entered the room as she silently closed the door behind her. Being a king, she thought, was a responsibility which she would not want. A country's affairs cannot wait even when the king fell ill, for thousands of lives were in his hands. From birth, he had been confined to this castle, without a chance to feel the summer breeze while gazing at the sky before falling asleep in the forest at night. Of course, he enjoyed a privileged way of life that many cannot imagine, but no, Miriam would perish in his place.

James, the king's manservant entered, obviously surprised to see her there. And always people to hover over you, without a moment of solitude. She shuddered at the thought.

"I have been giving His Majesty the potion every four hours, as you have instructed," he whispered.

She didn't know whether she was in more peril of rolling her eyes or bursting out laughing. They certainly took the witchery business more seriously here. Trying best to look grim, she said, "James, you know very well that it's nothing but herbal tea."

"There must have been magic, for it is very potent. Why else could His Majesty sleep so peacefully, and without any pain?" he stubbornly insisted.

Bending over to check the king's pulse, Miriam said, "Well, I am glad to hear that he sleeps well. Are you certain that there is no pain? Perhaps it is less than before, but still there?"

"I know not, Mistress. You shall have to ask the king when he wakes."

She nodded. The king looked less ashen than before, and his pulse was less thready. There was not much for her to do until he woke. "Please inform me when he wakes, James. I should like to ask His Majesty a few questions."

"Yes, of course, Mistress. Oh, Lord Adrian sent for you. He said your trunks have arrived at last. He is waiting for you in his study. "

Her heart soared at the thought of reuniting with beloved books and glassware. Though she had enjoyed being idle for a change, she was anxious to get back to her work where she did not have to interact with overly-formal servants and the catty ladies of the court. Unconsciously, she wrinkled her nose at the thought of cats.

"Thank you, James."

She walked out of the room distractedly, already making lists in her head about what she needed to do and muttering about herbs she would need. James watched her leave before finally having the courage to rub the goose bumps on his arm. The woman was a witch, and he knew it as sure as he knew his mother's name. Making a sign enlisting the protection of the Gods, he quickly went off to see to his chores.

Miriam practically bounced into his study, startling Adrian so much that he made another blot on the books. Silently cursing the woman, he dabbed the paper dry. His work had accumulated through his absence and managing his accounts had always made him ill-tempered, but having a woman whose mood was as volatile as perfume practical drove him mad. He mentally congratulated himself on the perfect analogy, for she had seeped into his every pore, distracting him to no end. Slamming the covers closed, he directed his attention to the woman in question, whose eyes shone brightly in flushed cheeks. Annoyance flared instantly into gut-clenching desire, which quickly turned back into irritation with himself.

"Sit," he ordered curtly.

Her eyes widened, but she didn't argue with him. "My, my, what put you in such a jolly mood?" she asked sarcastically.

He ignored her, putting the papers that covered his desk into haphazard stacks. "Your trunks are here. I have arranged for a room for you to set up your equipments. Fanny has agreed to help you unpack, though she probably would be better suited to organizing your clothes."