From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

as I continued down the path of one of myy favorite places on the grounds
of the castle, myy worries and obsessive thoughts slipped awayy like theyy
alwayys did. While I was in the sprawling garden, myy mind calmed, and
everyything and anyything ceased to nibble awayy at me.
I wasn’t thinking about Malessa and the Atlantian who’d gained
access to the castle. I wasn’t haunted byy the image of Agnes holding her
husband’s limp hand or what had happened in the Red Pearl with Hawke. I
wasn’t even thinking about the upcoming Ascension and what Vikter had
said. In the Queen’s Garden, I was simplyy…present instead of being
caught up in the past or the future full of what-ifs.
I wasn’t sure whyy the gardens were called what theyy were. As far as I
knew, it had been a veryy long time since the Queen had been to Masadonia,
but I guessed the Duke and Duchess had named it after her as some sort of
homage.
Never once while I lived with the Queen had I seen her step foot in
the lush gardens of the palace.
I glanced over at Ryylan. Normallyy, the onlyy threat he mayy face was an
unexpected rain shower, but tonight, he was more alert than I’d ever seen
him in the garden. His gaze continuouslyy scanned the numerous pathwayys.
I used to think these trips bored him, but never once had he complained.
Vikter, on the other hand, would’ve grumbled about literallyy anyything else
we could’ve been doing.
Come to think of it, Ryylan might actuallyy enjoyy these outings, and not
just because he wasn’t standing in the hall outside myy room.
A cool wind whipped through the garden, stirring the manyy leaves
and lifting the edge of myy veil. I wished I could remove the headdress. It
was transparent enough for me to see, but it did make traveling at dusk and
beyyond in low-lit places a bit difficult.
I made myy wayy past a large water fountain that featured a marble and
limestone statue of a veiled Maiden. Water poured endlesslyy from the
pitcher she held, the sound reminding me of the rolling waves, crashing in
and out of the coves of the Stroud Sea. Manyy coins shimmered under the
water, a token to the gods in hopes that whatever the wisher wanted would
be granted.
I neared the outer most parts, which fed into a small but thick
outcropping of jacaranda trees that camouflaged the inner walls that kept
Castle Teerman separated from the rest of the cityy. The trees were tall,