Page 94 of Foundling

Perhaps one of the formal gardens or pavilions in the palace could be converted. Attalus wouldn’t want her to touch the crystal pavilion, of course, but there were several others. She quite liked the idea of growing vegetables, and she meant to ask the brothers about planting various fruit trees throughout the palace grounds.

What was even better—she wasn’t alone in her enthusiasm. After a gentle nudge from Charis, Leita finally looked away from the brothers to glance at the people gathered. Lady Idrisil had done a commendable job spreading word throughout Fallorian about the arrival of two famed horticulturists, and dozens if not hundreds of fae had assembled in one of the city’s finest parks to listen.

Plant beds had been brought in for demonstration, and seeds were on offer once the talk concluded. Leita smiled to see how interested those listening were, asking questions over bed dimensions and fertilizer options. Some even took notes.

A resounding round of applause went up when the brothers concluded, and Leita’s heart swelled to see so many line up to collect their seeds.

She braced herself when the first few fae approached where she stood off to the side with Charis and Ondra.

A man and woman bobbed their heads. “An excellent topic, my Queen. We look forward to growing our own garden,” said the woman.

“You were right to bring such experts to the capital,” said the man, “all the best minds should be here.”

“Thank you,” Leita said, accepting their praise.

And the couple weren’t alone. While some avoided her gaze or left without taking any seeds, there were others who acknowledged Leita and her efforts. She received a few more nods and bows, a handful more thanks, and plenty of open gazes.

It was a vast improvement, and Leita wanted to pinch herself. Instead, she squeezed Charis’s hand.

“It’s working!” she whispered.

“Indeed so,” Charis whispered back, grinning. She nudged Leita’s shoulder with her own. “It’s what I hoped, and it helps that they see you like this.”

Leita nodded. She didn’t necessarily look forward to more outings, but finally making some headway did at least offer a kind of consolation. If she could see these efforts paying dividends, then it might just be worth it.

Although it frightened her, she had to practice at this, too. She might never be elegant or refined, but she could learn to be queenly.

Charis looked down the length of Leita’s simple skirt, not for the first time. “This suits you. That azai of yours has an eye for these things. But don’t tell him that, it’ll go right to his head.”

Leita knew better, of course. Attalus’s head was already large enough.

While Attalus hadn’t chosen her garb for the day, he had made sure options she might like and reach for were moved to the front of the closet and easy to find. She liked the flowing trou he brought her and the simple silky skirts. Given a set of options to choose from, the choice hadn’t felt so overwhelming.

She didn’t need a ballgown to attend a horticulture lecture. However, not looking like she’d just come from the garden did seem to help, too.

“He has a way of knowing what I like,” Leita admitted.

“He’s perceptive, that one. Always looking to please.” Charis peered out at the remaining crowd, observing, “He seems to please you, my Queen. I can see it just there, in your cheek. That you’re…happier.”

Whether it was choosing to trust Attalus or rolling across the bed with him in passionate lovemaking, something had shifted between them. Leita found herself smiling—without reason, she just smiled.

Attalus was never far from her thoughts.

“He makes me happy.”

“Good. You deserve a little happiness.”

Leita nodded, not used to accepting all this praise and positivity.

“The people sense it, too.”

Leita considered the crowd, the hum of lively chatter filling the warm air. “Do you think so?”

“It’s in our kind’s nature to attune to the mood of our Queen. Especially after centuries under a Queen such as her.”

Leita sobered, nodding that she understood. Charis put into words something Leita had noticed but not been able to articulate. The fae watched her closely, warily—not just because they mistrusted her but for their own self-preservation. If their very lives depended on a Queen’s whim, best to not only be observant but silent.

The realization gave Leita much to consider, and she mulled over these thoughts while they bid the Meringor brothers farewell and headed back to the palace. Just inside the palace walls, they were greeted by Marcades, as usual, and Carenza was there as well, handing over a crisply folded letter.