The Follower of Flowers

T he Follower of Flowers Copyright © 2023 by Natalia Hernandez All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All character and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people of events is purely coincidental. TITLE: The Follower of Flowers AUTHOR: Natalia Hernandez ON-SALE DATE: JUNE 27, 2023 Print ISBN: 9798986598352 Digital ISBN: 9798986598338 Book Cover Design by ebooklaunch.com Map Art by: Chaim Holtjer For more information, including content warnings, please visit: www.NataliaHernandezAuthor.com No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. To anyone who has struggled with their identity, this is a reminder that only you get to decide who you are. You are enough. Contents 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chaper 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 13. Chapter 13 14. Chapter 14 15. Chapter 15 16. Chapter 16 17. Chapter 17 18. Chapter 18 19. Chapter 19 20. Chapter 20 21. Chapter 21 22. Chapter 22 23. Chapter 23 24. Chapter 24 25. Chapter 25 26. Chapter 26 27. Chapter 27 28. Chapter 28 29. Chapter 29 30. Chapter 30 Acknowledgments About the Author Chapter 1 Jesadirany Jesadirany hadn’t even been born yet when a bruja, and a prophecy, ruined her life. Her mother was no one of any real importance, just a dark-eyed beauty whose husband, like so many others, had been lost to the war. She had grown up in the city of Miramar, at the Andalan coast near the Borders, and the battles. At the time of her mother’s marriage, Miramar was led by Alonzo Guerro, the thirty-year-old lord of Miramar Keep, who kept his subjects in line more from fear than out of respect. When word came that Jesadirany’s father had been killed in battle, Lord Guerro wasted no time before asking the young widow to wed him instead, despite the fact that she was already far along with the girl in her belly. There was no way that her mother could have refused had she wanted to, not if she intended on having any sort of life in Miramar that was free from poverty or harassment. The lord was a powerful man and could have made life very difficult for her had she thought to deny him. So she agreed. She would marry Lord Guerro, and her daughter would be raised in the keep. It might have proved to be a difficult life for her mother, forced to marry a man who she did not care for, let alone love. But such was the fate of so many women in their realm, and her mother was strong. She might have been able to bear it. But as fate would have it, she would never get the chance. Before her child’s birth, the keep’s bruja, an old crone-looking woman who resembled the old brujas of storybooks—static white hair in a puffed cloud around her head, hands gnarled and bony with fingernails long and curved like talons—had a prophecy about the unborn child. “Any babe born of this child will have the blessing of the dioses, and wield the most powerful affinity the realm has ever known.” Lord Guerro, upon hearing the prophecy, was no longer set on marrying the beautiful young widow, but decided to wait for her daughter to come of age, when he would marry her instead. He reasoned that, if he were to bear a child with an impressive affinity, he too would possess the power that he so coveted. And so her mother was left to bear Jesadirany alone, and raised her in the village with a monthly stipend from the Miramar lord. When the girl was old enough, he also employed tutors to ensure she received proper schooling, and with those came monthly visits from the lord’s steward to check on her progress. When Jesadirany was seven, the steward mentioned the prophecy for the first time in front of her. “You should try harder in your studies,” the steward had sniffed. “You may prove useful to the lord because of the prophecy, but you will not be able to neglect your duties to the keep just because you bear him powerful progeny. So no slacking.” After he left, she had asked her mother about it. “What does it mean, Mami?” Her mother was still a beautiful woman, but worry and anxiety had lined her face in the years since the prophecy had been foretold. When she knelt by her daughter, getting eye-level with her, the girl had traced the deep grooves on her forehead absently. “If you grow up and have a baby, that baby will be a powerful child with a great gift from the dioses,” she explained. At the time, the girl had thought that the prophecy had sounded rather wonderful and would have gotten excited about the prospect of growing up, getting married, and having a baby. But something in her mother’s face chilled her to her core. “You must be careful who you choose to love, little Jesa. For if they know the prophecy, they may choose to use you and your child instead of simply loving you back.” Her face drew together, her eyes so full of pain. “I loved your father,” she told her, cupping her cheek in her hand, “And you are my entire world. I want the same love for you, mi amor.” Jesa frowned. “Will Lord Guerro not love me?” She had known about her betrothal to the lord for as long as she could remember. Her mother glanced at the door, then dropped her voice low. “You will not marry the lord, mi sol. I will not see that happen. We will find a way to leave, to go where he cannot find us.” “Not marry the lord? But, I am his