{A Wattpad Featured Book}
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Her heart or her people. Only she can decide.
Hated, cursed, outcasted. It was Eleena Asterin's life ever since she was blamed to have betrayed her village. So when she is offered a task to earn back her honour and prid...
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I couldn't come up with any words when we arrived—and knew that even if I had been able to paint it, nothing would have done it justice. It wasn't simply that it was the most beautiful place I'd ever been to next to the House of Dreams, or that it filled me with such longing and mirth, but it just seemed ... right. As if the colours and lights and patterns of the world had come together to form one perfect place—one true bit of beauty. After yesterday and the event that had happened in the House of Dreams, it was exactly where I needed to be.
We sat atop a grassy knoll, overlooking a glade of oaks so wide and high they could have been the pillars and spires of an ancient castle. Shimmering tufts of dandelion fluff drifted by, and the floor of the clearing was carpeted with swaying crocuses and snowdrops and bluebells. It was two or three hours past noon by the time we arrived, but the light was thick and golden.
Though the three of us were alone, I could have sworn I heard singing. I hugged my knees and drank in the glen.
"We brought a blanket," Phoebus said, and I looked over my shoulder to see him jerk his chin to the purple blanket they'd laid out a few feet away. Kallistê plopped down onto it and stretched her legs. Phoebus remained standing, waiting for my response.
Things were still tense between Phoebus and I from earlier on but I shook my head and faced forward, tracing my hand through the feather-soft grass, cataloguing its colour and texture. I'd never felt grass like it, and I certainly wasn't going to ruin the experience by sitting on a blanket.
Rushed whispers were exchanged behind me, and before I could turn around to investigate, Phoebus took a seat at my side. His jaw was clenched tight enough that I stared ahead. "What is this place?" I said, running my fingers through the grass.
Out of the corner of my eye, Phoebus was no more than a glittering golden figure. "Just a glen." Behind us, Kallistê snorted. "Do you like it?" Phoebus asked quickly. The brown in his eyes matched the soil beneath my fingers, and the auburn flecks were like the shafts of sunlight that streamed through the trees. Even our tunics, odd and foreign, seemed to fit into the glen—as if this place had been fashioned for us alone. I could picture Phoebus here by himself, splayed out in the grass, dozing.
"What?" I said. I'd forgotten his question.
"Do you like it?" he repeated, and his lips were tugged into a smile.
I took an uneven breath and stared at the glen again. "Yes."
He chuckled, though it was strained. "That's it? 'Yes'?"
"Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, Imperial Lord?"
"Ah. The Alger told you nothing important, did it?"
That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. I ignored it. "He also said you liked being groomed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats."
