Flourish: The Green Princess, #3

By H. L. Burke

Bryce and Kitrin defied kings and magic to be together.
On the eve of happiness, an act of dark magic creates a barrier between them. One too strong even for love to overcome.
A sprung trap separates Bryce from his friends and beloved Kit. Assumed dead by his allies in the flora magi rebellion, he finds himself at the mercy of his closest relative—and greatest enemy—Fire King Langstyn. With foul powers, the heartless king turns Bryce into a weapon against Kit.
Pregnant, alone, and believing her beloved lost forever, vengeance burns within Kit's heart. Langstyn stole the only man she'll ever love. Kit won't rest until he's paid for his crimes.
When the truth of Bryce's captivity reaches her, Kit's torn between standing with the rebel army and sacrificing everything to save her beloved. The flora magi need her as their leader. Her unborn child needs her care. But Bryce is her heart.What good is victory if it means heartbreak?

• Language: English
• Publisher: H. L. Burke
• Release date: Jul 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9798224808007

Book preview

Dedicated

to

those who live constantly on the border of snarky and sincere.

Chapter One

Kitrin stood at the edge of the Wyrm Bog. A cold breeze swept over the frozen pools and the rime encrusted reeds. As she reached out with her magic, her numb fingers glowed green then tingled to life. The slumbering roots of various plants twitched in their sleep. The energy trickled through her like a warm summer sun in spite of the winter’s chill around her. In her belly, the growing child kicked, probably sensing the influx of magic through its mother’s body.

Shh. Kit smiled and brushed her hand across her swollen midsection. I can’t wait until you can see this.

Sylvis, Kit’s long-time mentor in the ways of flora magic, had assured her magic would not hurt the unborn baby.

Flora magi have done their duty while with child for centuries, the older woman had said. In fact, some of us believe the more you practice your craft with them within you, the stronger your children will be in it in their own right—though I’ve never seen that proven. Still, it won’t hurt the little one.

Kit closed her eyes and focused her energy through the earth and the various plants. Her magic spread over the path, creating a green glow beneath the frozen mud. The verdant power reached a weeping willow which shivered until icicles shattered against the ground beneath it. At this point, Kit shifted her weight from her right to her left foot, and the band of energy took an abrupt turn. It ran straight for a while then crashed forward like a wave over a grove of thorn-berry brambles. Immediately the skeletal mass of prickly vines shuddered. Greenery burst from it, then white flowers, then the flowers fell away leaving bright red berries in their place.

A hundred cackling cries rose from the nearest reed bed, and with a burst of flapping wings, dozens of tiny green dragons shot into the air. They circled in the cloudy sky, cackling and cooing, before diving into the bramble to consume the out of season fruit.

You’re spoiling them. Kit turned at Sylvis’s voice.

Sylvis had been a seasoned warrior and flora magus in the days of Kit’s mother, the former Flora Key. At the end of the war, however, the victorious fire magi had removed the dominant hands of opposing magi, severing their connection to magic. Sylvis’s left arm now ended in a stump. Still, even though Sylvis hadn’t wielded magic herself for nearly two decades, she was wise in its ways, and had taught Kit everything she knew. Sprout, a small plant dragon, identical to the ones Kit had lured to the bramble, rode on Sylvis’s shoulder. His nostrils flared, and he darted after the others, eager for berries.

Sylvis nodded towards the feasting plant dragons. If they become dependent on you for food, they’ll forget how to fend for themselves.

It’s a hard winter, and they served us well all summer, eating insects that plagued our crops and keeping predators from our animals, Kit said. It doesn’t hurt to pay them back now and again.

Yes, and they do make a handy early warning system if the fire magi try to make it across the bog. Sylvis placed her remaining hand over her eyes and scanned the twisting maze of frozen pools and reed beds. If it gets much colder and the ice much thicker, the bog won’t provide the protection it does during the other seasons. They’ll be able to walk right across the pools to us.

Kit frowned. Sylvis could be right. Without the powers of root scrying, available to the flora magi, or knowledge of the secret paths, the bog was treacherous. What appeared to be solid ground could melt beneath one’s feet, sucking a grown man into an inescapable mire. This natural barrier had protected the flora magi, and their allies, the quickened magi, from the Fire King’s armies. While a few men might hope to pick their way through the quagmire to the high ground where Kit and her followers had set up camp, any large force would get caught in the muck, making it a easy prey for a small force of plant-controlling flora magi or fast moving quickened magi. Even the few non-magical folk—dissatisfied subjects of the Fire King who had defected to Kit’s cause—had learned how to navigate the bog to the point where they could easily ambush stranded Embryn troops.

Kit fiddled with her ring, a gold band with a single red-stone her husband, Bryce, had given her when he proposed. Well, I haven’t seen any sign that the fire magi are preparing to attack. It worries me a bit, that they haven’t yet. They know where we are. As well as we hid, King Langstyn already had an idea of where we were sheltered, and it didn’t take the defectors long to find us. If they can, surely Langstyn, with his access to sight magi and all the spies of the kingdom, figured it out a long time ago. Why wait until our numbers have grown?

Maybe he hopes to keep us contained. Sylvis shrugged. But I think it’s more likely he’s struggling to keep the kingdom together. The amount of Keepers and lower level nobility who have joined us suggest the Embryn government is falling apart from the inside. No one seems happy to have traded the light hand of the late King Eamon for the iron glove of his son.

Can’t blame them. Kit sniffed. King Langstyn. Two words have never tasted so foul in combination. She turned from the feasting plant dragons. We should get back to the fortress. Do you want to reclaim Sprout?

Sylvis shook her head. He’ll work his way back to me when he’s eaten his fill. Also, it’s near mating season. Likely he’ll start courting a female of his kind soon. It’s about time he fathered some nestlings.

They strode along a narrow path between deep pools and beneath weeping willows towards the center of the bog. Kit had come to know this area well enough that she no longer required her magic to find safe paths, but Sylvis still insisted on walking slightly ahead of her, to test the ground in case something had shifted.

Since you’re here, I’m assuming the sentries finished their sweep of the perimeter uneventfully. Kit eyed her companion.

Sylvis, who was in charge of the guard rotations, nodded. Yes, and I believe there’s a report on our current supplies waiting for you at the tower. I took the liberty of glancing over it. We’re still in fair shape, as long as we don’t get too many new mouths to feed before midwinter. Even if we do have an influx of recruits, it’s only a matter of you switching your attention from feeding plant dragons to feeding your people ... or we could eat the plant dragons, but I imagine they’d be gamey.

Kit chuckled. If Sprout hears you talking like that, he’ll nip your ears off.

Let him try. Sylvis scoffed. She pushed her hood over her white-haired head. So all is running smoothly. Nothing unusual to report.

Kit scanned the horizon. She could already make out the first of their outbuildings. When they’d first found the Wyrm Bog, they’d settled mostly on a single hill in the center of the swamp. However, as more folk joined them, every bit of land high and dry enough to support a structure had been built up, some with storage sheds and animal pens, but many with housing for the growing number of rebels opposed to King Langstyn’s rule.

And the boys? Kit asked.

Ah, a little after you left on your errands, Regyn and your husband took the troops to the north field for some skirmishes. I’m assuming they’ll be done soon and looking to turn their attention from hitting each other over the head with sticks to devouring up more than their fair share of rations.

Kit smiled. Regyn was the Quickened Key, just as she was the Flora Key, the hereditary leader of a magical house. While Kit’s magic allowed her to influence plants, Regyn’s allowed him, and his followers, to run at absurdly fast speeds. Bryce, Kit’s husband, was a fire magus, the cousin to the hated King Langstyn. He could summon fire to his hands and use it as a weapon. While he and Regyn had originally been rivals, they now worked together to prepare the rebels for war—war that had gone from possible to probable since Langstyn had taken the throne.

I think I might head over there and watch them, see how the troops are coming along, Kit said. Do you want to come with me?

Sylvis snorted. No, I’ve seen enough of those idiots trying to show each other up for a lifetime. I’ll head back to the tower and check in on the evening meal. The trainees will have worked up quite an appetite by the time they return.

Kit veered off on a side path allowing Sylvis to continue towards the tower.

The north field was one of several areas of land the flora magi had raised from the bog using their magic. While the majority of these man-made islands amongst the bog pools were used for housing or farming, the rebels had left the north field empty for combat practice. Some of the defectors were Keeper forces, trained troops formerly under the rule of the Embryn crown. They needed little in way of training, but the rest of the folk—the defecting peasants and the untested flora magi—had little experience with warfare. Bryce and Regyn had taken it upon themselves to whip the greener members into some semblance of a fighting force.

As she approached, the sound of wooden training blades crashing together, the shout of fighters, and the cracking of branches combined with the scent of woodsmoke and disturbed earth.

She pushed through a curtain of willow branches and stood on the edge of a grassy plain—well, a grassy plain with long strips tore up to bare earth and fires blazing at the corners.

Two groups swarmed each other, colliding here, breaking apart there. Vines burst from the ground and grabbed one unlucky man about the legs, tossing him into a nearby bog pool. He came up, spluttering. A pair of quickened magi zipped to his side like frantic humbirds and pulled him to safety.

A man in a simple leather jerkin and hooded cape rushed from the mass, hands ablaze with flame. He tossed a fireball into the center of the nearest group who dove for cover. A dark skinned quickened magus Kit recognized as Regyn charged at him, only for the fire-wielder to roll to one side and come up, sword at ready.

I’ve got it! The earth exploded as a tree burst from the sod fully formed, a young flora magus sitting atop it. In her hand flapped a scrap of gray cloth.

Everyone froze, then a collective groan rose from half the field.

Good work, Quinn! the fire-thrower shouted up at the girl on the tree, pushing back his hood to reveal Bryce’s red-brown curls and bearded face.

Regyn huffed. That’s not a viable strategy in real combat. If we were playing with archers, they’d just shoot her down.

Bryce arched an eyebrow. Since when have you cared about realistic combat when a skirmish is on the line? My team wins. Get over it.

Kit laughed and strode forward. Really, you two?

Both men turned to stare at her.

Hey, Kit. Bryce smiled and crossed to her. You got here just in time to see me win.

On a technicality. Regyn snorted. We need to find a better standard of victory than ‘who can snatch a bit of cloth first’.

Kit raised her eyebrows. Seriously? You boys are playing capture the flag? I thought this was a military exercise.

Bryce shrugged. Good for morale.

Might be better for morale if you’d stop flinging fire bolts at my men. Regyn scowled. We only have one vitality magus in our group. We can’t afford for you to burn anyone.

"I only threw fire near them, not at them. Bryce stopped by Kit’s side and bent to kiss her forehead. I have control over my magic."

All the control of a drunk throwing darts. Regyn rolled his eyes.

Don’t listen to him. Kit placed her hand on Bryce’s chest. I think you use fire masterfully.

Bryce laughed. Oh, do you? He wrapped his arms around her and drew her in for a kiss. She melted against him, his embrace chasing away the cold.

Regyn coughed. Really, you two? Seriously, Bryce, can’t you wait until nightfall to engage in your ‘husbandly privileges’? For the sake of my eyes?

Kit pulled away to chide Regyn for his interruption, but before she could, Bryce pressed his mouth back against hers and lowered her into a dip. Gasping, she clutched at his shirt, her leg wrapping around his for balance. The position had its advantages. Her lips parted to allow him better ... access.

Oh gah! Regyn groaned. I thought you came out here to practice combat not tongue jousting.

Bryce released her. Kit’s knees wobbled ever so slightly, so she leaned against him for support.

How’s the training going? she asked.

They’re still not as focused as I’d like. Regyn swept his eyes over the group. Now that the skirmish was at an end, the various fighters from both teams were laughing and talking. A few had banded together to help Quinn down from her self-created perch. While Kit, as the Key, could use her magic for extended periods, most magi could only hold theirs for short bursts before flagging. A large display of magic, like causing a tree to grow up in seconds, would wipe a magus out for the rest of the day. Quinn’s move had won her team the match, but had likely sidelined her until the morning.

We’ve made some strides with conventional weapons, though: bows, crossbows, swords, and spears. Bryce wiped his hand across his brow. Not every fight will be won with magic.

True, but it certainly helps. Regyn stepped away from Kit and whistled. Dozens of heads turned towards him. That’s enough for the day. Gather your gear and head to camp.

Sylvis is seeing to dinner, Kit called out.

Someone whooped, and the group dispersed.

Bryce offered Kit his arm. His gray eyes twinkled. Do you need an escort, my lady?

She beamed. Of course.

As they walked, Kit told him about feeding the plant dragons, about the supply inventory, and about how she had felt the baby kicking again. He listened, a soft, sweet smile on his beloved face, nodding and laughing when appropriate. She tightened her hold around his hand. With the tumult of a country cut in two by impending civil war, it was nice to have the steadiness of Bryce to hold onto.

Smoke drifted across the bog, carrying with it the smell of roasted meat and stewed vegetables. Bryce and Kit climbed the hill to the meeting area. A long wooden table and logs halved to make benches awaited them, laden with bread and pitchers of water and mead. Sylvis stood a little ways from this, chatting with a group of women around the large caldron. Sprout perched on her shoulder. His tail twitched as he watched a cook stir the pot with a long wooden paddle.

The various fighters from the skirmish converged on the table, and soon the hilltop sang with the sound of laughter and conversation. Kit and Bryce took their place at the end of the table, joined shortly by Regyn. Technically Bryce was not a leader of their group, at least not to the same extent Kit and Regyn were. However, most accepted his word as Kit’s due to their closeness, and no one would’ve argued against his right to sit next to his wife at the table.

Kit took a still-warm loaf of bread and broke into it. Steam wafted from it bringing the yeasty scent to her nose. A flutter within her caused her to pause. The little one had managed to wedge itself under her ribs of late which had left the usual kicks feeling slightly more ticklish. She placed her hand over the spot.

Bryce paused mid-chew. His eyes lit up. Is he kicking again?

She clicked her tongue. Stop calling it a ‘he.’ You can’t possibly know, and I don’t want you to be disappointed if you’re wrong.

It’s just a feeling, a strong feeling, but I wouldn’t be disappointed in a girl, only surprised. He slid his hand over her abdomen. Here?

Yes. The baby kicked again. Even though he’d felt it dozens of times before, his mouth still dropped open, his gaze filling with wonder. Kit thought her heart would burst. He was going to be such a good father, a loving and protective father, the sort of father her baby deserved.

I never tire of that. He removed his hand when the fluttering stopped. I think we’re going to have to have at least four more after this one.

I love how he volunteers you for that, Regyn scoffed, looking up from his stew. He’s doing so much of the heavy lifting.

Oh, shush, I think it’s sweet. Kit ripped a bit of crust from her bread and flung it in Regyn’s direction. He ducked, of course. It was hard to throw anything fast enough that Regyn couldn’t dodge it, but he laughed and focused on his meal again.

Rider approaching! the sentry shouted.

Kit stiffened. Rider? They had few horses among their numbers—the animals were hard to house and inconvenient to ride in the bog—and generally she knew when one of their members had taken one from the field to use. That had to mean it was a stranger, but how was a stranger finding their way through the maze of the bog? Especially on horseback when they’d have to be extra careful to find sure ground.

Regyn stood and snapped his fingers. Several quickened magi leaped to attention, hands on their swords. I’ve got this. Whatever it’s about, one rider can’t cause us much trouble.

I’d like to see what it’s about, too. Kit stood. Bryce cleared his throat and focused his eyes on her stomach. Crumbs dusted the top of her bulge. She flushed before quickly brushing them away. Pretending that hadn’t happened, she took Bryce’s hand. We’ll go together. It could be a messenger with something important.

Flanked by Regyn’s quickened magi, Kit, Bryce, and Regyn strode from the table to the top of the path winding up the hillside from the swamp below. A single rider on a sorrel steed trotted up the path. He paused about halfway, dismounted, and continued forward on foot, one hand gripping the horse’s reins, the other raised in a sign of peace.

Bryce stiffened and drew closer to Kit. Unarmed did not mean powerless. If the traveler were a fire magus, this could still easily be an assassination attempt.

I bring a message for your leaders. Who here is in command?

Regyn and Kit exchanged a glance. She nodded. He could take this one.

Regyn stepped forward. I’ll speak for the group. Who are you and what message do you carry?

The man reached into his doublet. Bryce’s muscles tensed and heat rose from him. Sweat beaded on his brow, a sure sign that he was holding his magic in check, waiting to unleash it at the slightest indicator of attack. When the man withdrew a simple envelope, Bryce relaxed, but he still felt warm to the touch.

Kit placed her hand on his arm. I’ve got this, she whispered. After all, her own magical abilities, being a Key, were far greater than Bryce’s. While she appreciated his protective instinct, she didn’t need it. Focusing on her own magic, she sent tendrils through the soil. They stopped beneath the visitor’s feet. If anything happened, she’d unleash it, but for now, let the man think himself safe.

I’m a messenger from Lady Hallyssa. The messenger extended his arm. His sleeve pulled back revealing a seed mark in the shape of a single, unlidded eye.

Kit swallowed. A sight magus? No wonder he’d been able to find his way across the treacherous terrain. One of two magical houses still loyal to the Fire King, the sight magi could use their powers of vision to see things hidden, to predict the future, and revisit the past. They were a force to be reckoned with as far as reconnaissance and surveillance went, but their powers lacked much in the way of offensive magic.

Feeling safer, Kit leaned closer to Bryce. Who is Lady Hallyssa? I thought the Sight Key was a man? she asked under her breath. Bryce had grown up at court and knew the names of most of those in high standing.

He is. Hallyssa is his daughter and heir, Bryce murmured.

Regyn took the envelope and broke the seal. He scanned the document, glanced at the messenger with furrowed brow, then at Kit. You’ll want to read this.

Kit took the letter. Though it was on fine paper, the handwriting was quick and spidery, not the work of a scribe or a secretary or any who worked with quills for their livelihood. Likely the lady had inscribed it herself.

What does it say? Bryce asked.

She is dissatisfied with her treatment under King Langstyn and requests a meeting with the leaders of our group.

To defect? Bryce frowned.

It’s not explicitly stated, but it’s implied. Regyn narrowed his gaze at the messenger. What do you know of her intent?

Only that she swore me to secrecy and that no one besides myself and my lady knows of my mission. The messenger stuck his chin in the air. If you agree to the terms in the letter, I am to instruct you in how to meet with her. If not, well, then you may do with me as you will. I die a faithful servant to my lady.

Regyn arched an eyebrow. So noble. I should have all my letters delivered by self-aggrandizing page boys longing to be martyred for no particular reason. I love the drama of it. 

The messenger drew back, his face reddening.

Kit’s fingers clenched and unclenched around her skirt. If this offer was genuine then they couldn’t risk letting the opportunity slip. A high-ranking sight magus, in line for the inheritance of a Key seed, would be invaluable to their cause. She scanned the words again. Regyn, Bryce, a word.

The men followed her a few steps from the messenger and formed a tight circle.

Do you think this is real? she asked.

Bryce took the letter and examined it. The seals look right, though those could be forged easily enough.

Even if it’s really from this Lady Hallyssa, it doesn’t mean the offer is sincere. Regyn crossed his arms. What are the chances that a sight magus raised at court wants to abandon luxury for life among the rebels?

Well, having lived that life of so-called luxury, I can tell you it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Bryce handed the paper back to Kit. What do you think?

She bit her bottom lip. It’s too much of a chance to pass up. I’m willing to meet with her if you are, Regyn.

Let’s get some more details on the potential meeting. He beckoned to the messenger. "You said we’re only to get instructions on the meeting if we agree to the terms of the letter. That’s not reasonable. If we aren’t allowed to know how we are to meet with her, how are we to judge the risk?"

The messenger’s brow furrowed. My lady plainly stated—

Your lady can go jump in the bog, Regyn snapped. Meeting location, clearly stated or this goes no further.

The man’s jaw clamped shut.

Regyn, diplomacy? Kit frowned. She stepped closer. Flora and quickened magi have lived on the run for decades. If you’re asking us to step from our sanctuary, to expose ourselves to danger, you need to give us something in return. Us knowing the location of the meeting won’t endanger your lady.

He let out a slow breath. Skymere Village.

Bryce recoiled. That’s about four days ride from here, south of Crown City. We’ll have to pass through a lot of occupied territory to get there.

Yes, but it’s also remote enough that if we can get there, we shouldn’t be observed. When we first reached Embryn, we did some raids in that area. Never saw many Keepers. Regyn rubbed the back of his neck. I’ll go. If it’s just me, without a lot of men to look after, I can get in and out even if I’m sighted. He smiled. I’m not easy to catch.

My lady wants to meet with both the leaders, the messenger interrupted.

That’s a bad idea.

Kit whirled to face the interrupting voice. Sylvis stepped away from the table where the other rebels still sat, eating and listening to the exchange.

We can’t afford to put both our leaders in danger, and if you don’t mind me saying so, Kitrin is especially vulnerable right now.

Kit’s cheeks burned. I’m capable of caring for myself. Regyn’s magic would allow him to escape, but mine would allow me to fight. I’m not helpless.

Bryce put his hand on her shoulder. They’re right, Kit. The timing is poor. I can represent you. With my ties to the fire magi and the Embryn crown, she might listen to me more than you anyway.

But I’m the Key, not you. She glowered.

He swept his hand towards the gathered rebels. Yes, you are, but ask any of them if they’d have you endanger yourself and your child—our child.

Kit avoided eye contact. Her swollen stomach suddenly felt like an anchor. Of course, she didn’t want to risk any harm coming to the baby, but she was still the leader of her people. She couldn’t stop working just because she was pregnant.

He’s right, Kit. Regyn stepped closer. You shouldn’t be fighting now, and if Hallyssa won’t accept Bryce as an ambassador on your behalf, then something else is going on. We might have to fight our way out of this.

Besides, someone needs to stay and hold down the fort here. Sylvis gave her a motherly smile.

Kit forced her expression stony. Well, it seems you’ve all made up my mind for me. Excuse me. She spun on her heels, worried she’d cry and further weaken her hold on her dignity.

At a quick pace, she crossed the hilltop to the door of the tower, a restored ruin where she held meetings with her council. The upper level, accessible through a steep staircase, held her and Bryce’s sleeping quarters. Kit hurried up the stairs, sat on the edge of her bed, and rested her face in her hands. As if trying to remind her of her condition, the baby kicked again.

She sniffed back tears. Why had she run away like a child? What was wrong with her? Leaders didn’t act like this.

Kit? Bryce poked his head through the hatch in the floor. Are you all right?

Not wanting to look at him, Kit lay on her side, her hands resting on her rounded belly. I’m the Flora Key. Just because I am with child doesn’t mean I should be sidelined and not allowed to do anything useful.

Bryce sat on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. The room fell silent other than her