Chapter 9: Herbs and Secrets

Saren was in the herb garden, ostensibly gathering mint and rosemary for the kitchen, though Lysandra knew it was merely an excuse to enjoy a rare moment outdoors. The afternoon sunlight caught in her auburn curls as she bent over the plants, giving her an almost ethereal appearance among the greenery.

"There you are," Lysandra said, keeping her voice low despite the garden's apparent privacy. "I've been looking everywhere."

Saren straightened, her expression shifting from surprise to concern as she took in Lysandra's tense posture. "What's happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not a ghost. Ravenna." Lysandra glanced around to ensure they were truly alone. The garden's high hedges provided some privacy, but servants' gossip was the lifeblood of the household, and walls had ears. "She knows, Saren. Or at least strongly suspects."

"Knows what exactly?" Saren's eyes narrowed.

"About my... abilities. She mentioned Velmira by name. She even knew about those born during the Eclipse being immune." Lysandra's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "She had a book about it."

The color drained from Saren's face. "That's... not possible. How could she know such things?"

"I don't know, but she clearly does." Lysandra took Saren's basket, using the mundane action to disguise their serious conversation from any watching eyes. "She offered an alliance of sorts."

"An alliance?" Saren looked skeptical. "Ravenna doesn't have allies, she has assets and obstacles. Which did she decide you are?"

"Both, I think." Lysandra began picking sprigs of mint, maintaining the appearance of helping with the herb gathering. "She sees my influence over Theron as both useful and threatening. She wants to direct it rather than eliminate it."

Saren added a few stems of lavender to the basket, her movements deliberate. "And you believe her? After what Maeve told us about the last girl who caught Theron's eye?"

The question gave Lysandra pause. According to Maeve's whispered account, the previous girl hadn't simply been dismissed-she'd disappeared entirely after Ravenna caught Theron's wandering attention.

"I don't trust her," Lysandra admitted. "But refusing her openly seems dangerous, especially since she knows about Velmira's gift. If she decided to turn others against me by revealing what she knows..."

"Would anyone believe her? Tales of goddess-granted powers aren't exactly commonplace these days," Saren pointed out.

"They might not need to believe in the power itself to view me as a threat," Lysandra countered. "Just the suggestion that I'm manipulating Theron could be enough to turn the household against me. Or worse, have me branded a witch."

The possibility hovered between them, both knowing the horrible fate that awaited women accused of witchcraft. The empire might pride itself on enlightenment and sophistication, but superstition still held powerful sway, particularly where unexplained female influence was concerned.

"What exactly did she propose?" Saren asked finally, moving deeper into the garden where a small stone bench sat partially concealed by flowering shrubs.

Lysandra followed, settling beside her. "That I continue influencing Theron, but according to her guidance. In exchange, she offers protection and help navigating beyond this household."

"Including your reassignment to Lord Cassian?"

"Yes. Though she wanted to know my intentions there."

Saren plucked a leaf of mint, rolling it between her fingers and releasing its sharp, clean scent. "And what are your intentions with Cassian? Beyond the obvious path to higher circles?"

It was a fair question-one Lysandra had been considering since the opportunity presented itself. "He has connections to the palace. Not direct access to the royal family, but to those who serve them. It's a step closer to real security."

"And real power," Saren added softly, studying Lysandra's face. "Is that what you want now? Not just safety, but power over others?"

The question stung, especially coming from Saren, the one person who understood what Lysandra had endured, who had supported her without judgment.

"I want never to be powerless again," Lysandra replied, her voice tight with emotion. "I want to ensure that what happened to me, what happened to you, to all of us, never happens to anyone else. If that requires power, then yes, I want it."

Saren's expression softened. "I understand that. Truly. But power changes people, Lys. I've watched it happen in this household over and over. Even good intentions get twisted."

"I'm not like them," Lysandra insisted.

"No one starts out like them," Saren countered gently. "They become that way, choice by choice, compromise by compromise."

A silence fell between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the household-a door closing, the clatter of kitchen preparations, the call of a vendor in the street beyond the garden walls.

These ordinary sounds seemed to belong to another world, one far removed from goddess-granted powers and dangerous political alliances.

What would you have me do?" Lysandra asked finally. "Refuse Ravenna and risk everything? Use this power on Theron without guidance and watch his obsession grow until it consumes us both? Or perhaps give up the power entirely and return to being at everyone's mercy?"

Saren sighed, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "I don't have the answers, Lys. I just worry about the path you're on about where it leads, and what it might cost you. Cost us."

The last two words hung in the air, a reminder of promises made in whispered conversations late at night, promises of escape, of building something better, together. Those dreams had shifted since Velmira's gift, becoming both more possible and more complicated.

"I won't leave you behind," Lysandra said, taking Saren's hand. "Whatever happens, we face it together. You know that."

"Do I?" Saren asked quietly. "The higher you climb, the harder it becomes to bring others with you. I've seen it happen."

"Then you haven't been watching me," Lysandra replied firmly. "First step with Cassian? Ensuring you come with me as my personal attendant. I've already put the idea in Theron's mind."

Hope flickered in Saren's eyes. "Truly?"

"I promised, didn't I? We get out together, or not at all."

The moment of connection was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps on the garden path. Both women straightened, smoothing their expressions into appropriate servile neutrality as one of the kitchen boys appeared around the hedge.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, slightly out of breath. "Head Cook is looking for those herbs, and Lord Blackwood is asking for you, Lysandra.

He seems... agitated."

The boy's hesitation spoke volumes. Theron'smoods had become increasingly volatile as his obsession with Lysandra deepened, swinging between possessive affection and paranoid suspicion.

"Tell him I'll be there shortly," Lysandra replied, projecting calm authority that made the boy nod respectfully before hurrying away.

When they were alone again, Saren gave her a worried look. "Be careful with him, Lys. His instability makes him dangerous."

"I know." Lysandra rose from the bench, mentally preparing herself for the unpleasant task ahead. "What should I do about Ravenna's offer?"

Saren thought for a moment. "Buy time. Tell her you're considering it while we learn more about her knowledge of Velmira. Anyone with that kind of information could be either a valuable ally or our most dangerous enemy."

"And if she presses for an immediate answer?"

"Then accept conditionally," Saren advised.Agree to her terms regarding Theron, but insist on proof of her protection before committing to more. A woman like Ravenna respects caution, it's how she's survived so long herself."

Lysandra nodded, once again grateful for Saren's practical wisdom. "I should go before he sends someone else looking for me. We'll talk more tonight?"

"After dinner service," Saren confirmed. "My room, it's safer than yours. The walls are thicker, and Maeve's hearing isn't what it used to be."

With a final squeeze of Saren's hand, Lysandra departed, mentally shifting from confidante back to the carefully constructed persona she needed to manage Theron's growing obsession. Each encounter with him required precise calibration, enough warmth to maintain his devotion, but not so much as to inflame his possessiveness to dangerous levels.

As she navigated the garden paths back toward the main house, her thoughts returned to Ravenna's unexpected knowledge and offer. The woman clearly had resources and understanding beyond what Lysandra had imagined. But the question remained: what did Ravenna truly want? Protection of her interests seemed the obvious answer, but Lysandra sensed deeper currents beneath the pragmatic exterior.