Chapter 53: Chapter 53

KAMORA

“I’ll leave you here,” Lord Maroke said, stopping at the front of a small door to face Kamora.

“You can take a look around. I am sure the lady of the house won’t mind.”

He then walked inside the room, leaving Kamora behind with the ecstatic woman.

“Well, that counts as permission, right?” she said, coming up toward Kamora. “He said I can show you around. Then that means you won’t mind lending me a hand?”

Kamora smiled. The lady was not like other nobles. She was down to earth, and comfortable to be with.

“Sure,” Kamora replied. “I’d love to.”

They walked back to the garden, and when they arrived, Kamora took a good look at it.

Kamora had never had the opportunity to use her plant powers, because they were nothing to boast about. Compared to her sister Gwen’s ability to control and make use of any elements of plants, the only thing Kamora could do then was make vegetables fresh.

But after combining witching spells with her powers, she had seen much improvement. She had come to realize that her power worked best when it embraced the other side of her, and not alone.

It was just a matter of time before she became extremely powerful, and she’d work hard to achieve it.

She took a walk around the garden, scrunching her eyes as she took in the graying, almost black plants that had their souls sucked out of them. There was no life in that place, almost like someone had placed a curse on it.

“This is very strange indeed,” she muttered to herself, but the lady heard it.

“It is, isn’t it? It’s almost as if someone placed a curse on it,” the lady said, repeating her thoughts.

Kamora wondered then what the woman thought of witches. But she thought it best to keep her curiosity to herself.

“I’ll try and see what I can do,” Kamora said. “Can you please step away? I wouldn’t want you to be affected.”

“Oh sure!” the woman answered and quickly moved back.

Kamora turned away from the woman, muttering under her breath a spell as she waved her hands over the garden. She was only familiar and good with making potions, so she wasn’t sure if her plan would work.

One of the first things she learned when she began her journey to improving her witch powers was that every witch created their own spell. No one was ever the same.

If it had been used before, the witch would just have to try and try again until she could come up with one that was uniquely hers. That was why it was hard to break curses, because only the witch who placed them had the ability to break it.

Kamora hoped that the words she was whispering weren’t already used.

Fortunately, her efforts were not in vain. On her fifth try, she immediately noticed some changes.

“Oh, oh!” the woman exclaimed, clapping her hands giddily.

The dead grasses slowly changed from black to gray to yellow and finally to green.

Excitement simmered beneath her skin, but Kamora held it in, afraid that she might affect what she was doing. But the change didn’t stop there.

The grasses continued to grow, taking another form entirely. Slowly, flowers of different variations covered every area of the garden, much to Kamora and the lady’s shock.

Feeling spent, Kamora finally stopped and took in the sight of what she had done. She had done that, and it was beautiful.

“Heavens, you did more than I even expected. Thank you! Thank you so much!” the lady cried.

Kamora, though feeling weak, smiled proudly. “You are welcome,” she said.

***

It’s been weeks since Kamora followed Lord Maroke for his business in that elite Manor. Ever since then, Kamora had noticed two things.

The first, she became extremely tired when she used most of her powers. The second, she wouldn’t be able to summon her ability back after a few days, depending on just how much she exerted herself.

Kamora had been scared shitless during the process of discovering the second point, and was very grateful for Petal, who assured her that it would return. Sometimes, she suspected that Petal knew far too much about witches.

It almost seemed like she was a witch herself. Since she had regained her powers, Kamora had been searching for other things she could do.

Little things that wouldn’t take much of her strength. She wondered if, just as she could breathe life back into the plants, she could also draw it out of them.

She wondered how she could use her powers to defend herself, and she also tried to come up with a way she could help Lord Maroke. Perhaps if she, as a witch, helped him break his curse, he might be lenient with her when he found out about her powers.

She worked first by finding out just what type of drug he was taking and discovered that the white substance he had bought from the human had the ability to numb pain. But the substance could become addictive and might even be fatal when taken in large amounts.

And so, when he wasn’t around, Kamora used her magic to remove the addictive components, while still leaving the substance with its pain-numbing effects.

***

Time passed. A year flew by.

Kamora and Lord Maroke had grown closer than ever. The latter now smiled a lot, though he only ever did so in front of the former.

Kamora would love to believe that something had happened between her and Lord Maroke to make them more than friends, but since he hadn’t expressed himself clearly, she continued to act as if it was nothing at all.

That day, Lord Maroke had asked her to follow him. He never stated where he wanted to go, and it was even stranger that it was just the two of them.

Greyson was always with them on any of their work visits. About half an hour after leaving the house, they stepped down from the carriage.

It stopped in front of a path that led to a hill covered by a forest. Kamora had never seen a place like that, so she studied her surroundings in awe.

“It is known as the Goddess’s grave,” Lord Maroke said, breaking the silence between them. “Hardly does anyone ever come here.”

Kamora faced him, suspicious. “Why did we come here then? Doesn’t the fact that no one comes here mean that it’s a dangerous place?”

“To most, yes. But not to someone like me.”

“What do you mean?”

Suddenly, Lord Maroke reached for Kamora, gently pulling her closer. His hands slid from her shoulders to her waist in a slow, deliberate motion.

Kamora’s eyes widened in shock. Her breath caught as the space between them vanished. She couldn’t speak—her voice, her thoughts, everything had left her.

“Hold on tight,” he murmured, leaning in, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Before she could process his words, the ground fell away beneath her feet. Kamora gasped as they lifted high into the air, the wind rushing past her.

Instinctively, she looked down—but his voice stopped her.

“Look at me. Just me.”

His tone was gentle, commanding, and when she obeyed, her eyes widened once more.

Two massive, black wings stretched from his back—wide enough to blanket a house.

They beat the air with quiet strength, holding them both above the ground.

“You’re…a winged Fae,” she whispered, awe and disbelief trembling in her voice. She had heard of their kind, known for their secrecy.

Winged Fae never revealed themselves—never.

Yet here he was, showing her everything without hesitation.

Lord Maroke said nothing.

With a single nod, he soared through the sky, gliding them smoothly toward the highest point on the nearby hill.

The sun had begun to set, casting the world in hues of gold and crimson.

When they landed softly atop the hill, Kamora gasped aloud.

Before her stretched an endless expanse of forest, bathed in sunset.

The trees shimmered beneath the golden glow, as if the heavens had spilled light across the land.

“Heavens…this place exists in this kingdom?” she breathed.

“It’s my favorite place to hide,” Lord Maroke replied softly.

Kamora turned to him—and froze.

His eyes were already on her, dark and unreadable, watching her with an intensity that made her pulse race.

The air shifted. Something unspoken crackled between them, thick and heavy.

Her heart pounded wildly against her ribs.

“My lord,” she said, barely above a whisper, “why did you bring me here?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

He just stared at her, so long and so intently that she began to doubt he ever would.

Then—

“Forgive me,” he murmured.

And before she could react, he pulled her to him and kissed her.

Kamora froze. Her hands hung limply at her sides as his lips pressed against hers—firm yet gentle, coaxing.

He teased her lower lip, licking it softly before biting down with the lightest pressure.

His fingers slid into her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss.

She should have pulled away. But she didn’t.

Instead, her hands slowly found their way around his neck, holding onto him tightly.

She kissed him back—hesitantly at first, then with a hunger that surprised even her.

When he bit her lip again, she gasped, and he took full advantage, slipping his tongue past her lips.

One hand moved to her back, pressing her tightly against him. The other tangled in her hair as their mouths danced in a rhythm that became familiar to them.

Every coherent thought vanished.

Her name, her purpose, her fear—gone.

All that existed was him, his lips, his warmth, and the fire he had ignited in her.

She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to.

At last, Lord Maroke pulled away, though only slightly.

He kept his forehead resting gently against hers, both of them breathless, suspended in the moment.

Kamora didn’t speak. She couldn’t.

She didn’t even understand what was happening.

Then he whispered, his voice raw with something deeper than passion, “I’ll take responsibility. Marry me.”