A Curse of Flame and Ash, page 10
“You must be thrilled,” I scoffed, slouching into the hard cushions, discarding decorum—why should I care anymore? They probably didn’t choose me to begin with to avoid offending him, because gifting your shut-in daughter would definitely send a message. Luckily for my parents, the monstrous Fae wanted me and Linnaea.
“Why would we be thrilled?” Mother’s voice stayed cold and surprisingly steady, considering her judgemental stare at my feet on the table.
“You’ll finally be rid of me without causing scandal. It’s why I’m still here and alive, isn’t it? You didn’t want to marry me off to anyone, as they would see it as an insult. You didn’t want to kill me because of the rumours it would spread. There’s no place to ship me off to that someone wouldn’t discover. But now, our new ruler actually wants the daughter you couldn’t get rid of. Convenient for you.”
I fluffed the skirt of my dress and smoothed the fine wrinkles forming on my lap, staring at my hands throughout the entirety of my speech. Brave enough to speak it, though not brave enough to meet their eyes.
“You assume wrong. We chose Linnaea for a purpose. The change isn’t ideal, but we can’t risk offending Aramis. Our plan should still work. You aren’t completely useless to us. I had a gut feeling continuing your education after Octavian’s birth was necessary.” Her voice dripped with sugared malice, each word a cunningly concealed barb wrapped in a veneer of false sweetness.
One, two, three. Inhaling the insult.
One, two, three. Exhaling my anger.
“Hmm, you don’t have anything clever to say?” Mother baited, and I took another cleansing breath as Linnaea’s hesitant fingers traced patterns on her arm.
Be strong. Don’t break. Don’t falter. Don’t let them see you cower.
My father placed a hand on her lap, a subtle indication to cool her rising temper, and said, “An interesting opportunity has arisen from our disastrous loss in this war. Beneath this castle is the Vault where we store the treasures Toivo left behind.”
Stories described Toivo as one of the most powerful gods. He gifted the Fae of his land Mind Magic and later gifted mortals with magic to defend themselves against the Fae, the origin of the Gifted. Ultimately, it allowed mortals to take this land and form the four mortal courts.
“The Book of Toivo is one of those items and someone stole it generations ago. Evander’s namesake responsible for the loss—” Oulixeus cut in with a subtle insult, and it dawned on me, the pedestal used to display the Book.
“A book?” I raised a brow, crossing my arms over my chest. Mother frowned at my poor posture, but I had bigger things to fear—Cara’s whereabouts and Aramis.
Ignoring both Oulixeus and me, Father continued, “A spell book possessing an incantation to destroy the Fae and the magic of this realm once and for all. Your uncle’s source insists it’s located in the heart of the Fire Court, at the Blood Fortress.”
“We originally meant this task for Linnaea. She’s clever and resourceful, but he chose you, so you will be Aramis’ bride and find the Book. Once located, you will bring it home to us,” Mother finished Father’s thoughts and my sister shifted uncomfortably on her feet.
The leather squeaked as I shifted, contemplating their ambitious task and my recruitment. I’d longed for freedom from their dominance for years, but not this. I remained under their influence and would be under Aramis’ command, scrutinised at every step—a situation not much different from my current life. Maybe it made me more suited for this task despite my parent’s opinions.
“And how am I supposed to locate this book? What does it look like? Does the informant know where it’s kept? I need details.”
My father’s eyes flashed with surprise, not expecting me to be so perceptive. Leaning forward, he slid the lone piece of parchment on the table toward my skirts, and I dropped my feet to the floor. The ancient paper scraped against my delicate skin, and tiny bits of the edges flaked to the floor.
Unfolding it carefully, I squinted, trying to understand what I stared at. Lines formed squares and rectangles of different shapes, with the largest rectangle at the top and eight circles drawn in the centre, almost like pillars in a room.
“What is this?” I dropped it from my hands, letting it float to the table as if it held little consequence for me.
“A partial blueprint of the Blood Fortress. Oulixeus’ informant believes the Book is located in that area of the fortress.”
“If Fae kings are anything like mortal kings, what makes you think I’ll be free to roam the fortress?” A subtle jab of my own.
Mother raised a brow and maliciously smiled. “Oh, I have faith you’ll be more successful at enticing the high king to share valuable information than your sister would have been.”
One, two, three. Inhaling the insult. Did they presume I sought Oulixeus out?
One, two, three. Exhaling anger. I dared to glance at my uncle, shooting more whiskey.
“What are you insinuating, Mother?” I continued to breathe deeply into my belly to keep myself from exploding on her.
“Seduce him. Make him fall in love with you, make him trust you. Tell him how deeply grateful and honoured you are to be his bride, the first mortal high queen, and I’m sure he’ll have no reason to keep you locked away.” Her proposition had me curling my hands into fists, knuckles turning white, attempting to suppress my growing fury. Again, Linnaea shuffled her weight, and an invisible hand squeezed my gut as I imagined my sister being told to seduce Aramis.
“Oulixeus’ spies never discovered a precise location. It is a rather ambitious task, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to finally level the playing field. Our Spellcasters were never enough,” Father interjected.
Their plan was undeniably ambitious and foolish. Whether Aramis’ bride turned out to be Linnaea or me, all eyes would fixate on the new mortal high queen, driven by either suspicion or curiosity. Aside from the court’s obsession, guards and ladies would be in my constant presence.
Even if I seduced Aramis and gained his trust enough to roam the fortress of my own volition, would I ever be truly alone? Would I spend my nights sneaking out of Aramis’ bed to find the Book? Would Aramis allow me to leave his bed… alive?
“No,” I stated, rising to leave. “I’m not doing this.” It was a suicide mission.
“For once, do as you’re told.” Mother clenched her teeth, fighting to maintain her authority over me.
“I always do as I’m told!” The growing fury rumbled more ferociously than I’d felt in a long time, but I couldn’t place the familiar surge of power. “You’ve stripped everything from me. My future, my freedom, my humanity! I deserve a say in my own fate.”
Mother stood and struck me across the face. My cheek burned as blood trickled from a cut her ring created and I glowered at her, clenching my jaw. I hated this. The entire situation and them.
The edges of my vision blurred into obscurity, though one figure remained sharply defined—my mother, her gaze as icy and unyielding as stone. Her stance grew more rigid, almost like an attempt to undertake the burgeoning power within me.
The dagger sang.
Do it. It’s time.
Glass rattled in the distance as a piercing ringing formed in my ears. Darkness narrowed in on my mother. And there it emerged. Fear. She allowed herself to fear, and I couldn’t tell if I liked it or felt sorry for her. The ringing intensified, nearly deafening when it halted and immediately subdued.
Pressure on my hand grounded me. Oulixeus stood beside me, squeezing my fingers with his own. The brooding shade of deep mahogany brown in his eyes bored into me. Everything stopped. The ringing subdued, and the power dispelled.
My legs buckled as I suddenly felt weak, and I fell to the couch behind me. Oulixeus brought over a shot of whiskey.
“No,” Mother protested, but I took the liquor and knocked it back. Her fear dissipated and returned to pure wrath as the amber liquid soaked hints of oak into my tastebuds.
I searched Oulixeus for answers. Genuinely concerned, he wiped a strand of hair stuck to my forehead away from my face. He leaned in and whispered, “Do this for me. Please.”
“No,” I whispered back. His jaw muscle twitched at my disobedience.
“We anticipated your hesitation.” Father placed a plain wooden box on the table between the couches and turned his gaze to the cackling fire. The flames highlighted the dark, polished box. A knot of apprehension clenched my throat like a vise, my eyes fixating on the sharp edges.
“Open it,” Mother encouraged, her features stone and impenetrable.
My gut warned me not to listen, but I didn’t obey. Gasping, I slammed the lid shut and dropped it, muffling my cry with a hand.
“She’s in the dungeons,” Oulixeus confirmed. “Alive.”
“She won’t be alive if you fail. Neither will her grandparents. Oulixeus informed us of the little friendship you two have formed,” Mother said.
“Don’t you dare.” I pulled my courage from where it hid deep inside of me.
“We can go kill her right now,” she continued, as I took a sharp breath.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I tilted my head back, pressing my palms into my eye sockets.
Fuck.
“How can I be certain she’s still alive?” I demanded.
“You’ll just have to trust us,” Mother smirked menacingly. I shook my head and embraced my knees. How could I ever trust them? Oulixeus stroked my hair as disgust threatened to hurl from my stomach.
“You promise she’s alive?” I cried through my hands.
“Yes,” Oulixeus answered for them.
“Go find the Book, bring it back, and I’ll release her,” Father instructed.
“Fail, and she dies.” Mother added.
I hid my anguish behind a stoic facade, each suppressed tear wrestling with trusting them. Did I even have a choice? What else could I do to help Cara? The Fae were just as likely to kill her. Why keep someone so rebellious alive? And if Grandmama was a witch—it was best to keep their entire family off of the Fae’s radar.
Oulixeus squeezed my hand. Fuck him. Fuck him for trying to be sweet and comforting.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” I pushed Oulixeus off me. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll find your damned book. And when I return, she goes free.” What other choice did I have?
“She goes free,” Father confirmed. Unable to be around them for a second longer, I marched to the door.
“Fine,” I whispered and fled.
Almost at the bottom of the stairs, a hand took hold of my wrist. A delicate, kind hand. Linnaea. Tears streamed from her sapphire eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” She released me when I silently assured her I’d listen. “For my accusations last night and enduring them for all these years. I never helped you. You didn’t really want to be with Oulixeus, did you? You were just trying to—”
“Survive,” I said the word she struggled to find. “I’m sorry, too, Linny. If I knew they planned to ship you off…”
“Neither of us can do anything, can we?” She grasped her skeletal arm and pinched herself again, worrying me.
“I’m going to at least try,” I vowed, and as I turned to leave, Linnaea took my hand, hindering me.
Sliding folded parchment into my hand, she said, “Take this, you’ll need it.”
And I unfolded the scratchy paper to uncover the map my parents showed me earlier. I offered a gentle smile and abruptly left her to confirm my parents’ threat.
I memorised that wooden box. Its sharp edges, the orange light of the fire casting against the black wood, and what it held. Most chambermaids and servants had rough hands—fingers calloused and dirty. But Cara always cared about her hygiene and appearance. No doubt remained, as I remembered the slender, perfectly manicured finger in the box—it belonged to Cara.
Chapter 12
The tall Fae warrior, three times my size, struggled to maintain my swift pace rushing through the castle. Conláed bombarded me with questions as I weaved through the corridors, determined to see Cara locked away for myself and confirm my parents’ threat. An image of cold chains clamped around her delicate wrists and blood staining her hands invaded my mind, and I almost threw up again.
Nobles gaped at the sight of me, not accustomed to my presence freely moving about the castle. A gaggle of ladies blocked my path to the corridor I needed, and I pushed straight through them. Their gasps echoed down the hall I turned into, inching nearer to the dungeon. I needed to navigate through a few more wings until I reached it.
“Princess.” A smoky inflection drifted through the dark hall, and I spun around to see my betrothed. Beams of light filtered through the windows to my left, and the morning’s gilded light emphasised the gold in Aramis’ hair. I straightened my posture as he sauntered toward me.
The task my parents had thrust upon me seemed impossible. My hesitance to seduce Aramis to find the Book or kill him twisted my insides into a vortex of unease. Perhaps the solution lay in trying to free Cara and running—if she really did remain alive. It would be dangerous, but we were out of options.
“I’m busy—”
“We’re leaving,” Aramis interrupted as he approached.
“What? Where?” I stepped backwards, but he only crept forward.
“To the Fire Court, Stoneshalt. We leave now.”
What? My brows knitted as I stared speechlessly at him. We’re leaving now? My thoughts hurried to catch up to what my racing heart already understood.
“Don’t you need to stay and have meetings with my parents? The other mortal kings? Acquaint yourself with our court—”
“I have what I came for.” The green in his eyes deepened despite the light shining on his face, and they studied me, waiting for my reaction. Though no response came, as one thought remained frozen in my mind—Cara.
“An emissary will remain to handle my affairs here, and there is only one mortal king now. There are more pressing matters at the Fire Court requiring my presence, matters I’d like to deal with before our wedding on Summer Solstice.” Aramis looked at Conláed. “Ready?”
“Am I ever, it’s been two years since I’ve been home. No doubt Mistress Zoraida has missed my patronage.” Conláed winked as he slipped past Aramis and me, leaving us alone.
My frozen thoughts thawed into a rushing river, flooding me with ideas on what to do next, and I evaluated each option. Refuse, run, make excuses, beg—but as Aramis guided me through the castle and to the stable yard, my thoughts abandoned me, leaving me hopeless.
Carriages, wagons, and massive horses filled the bustling stable yard. Aramis led me to a carriage near the front of the line, opening the door for me.
The cushioned seats sat empty, and the realisation of my departure from Elmswood, maybe forever, struck me. With one foot on the carriage’s lowest step, and another foot still grounded, I turned to Aramis. “My belongings—” I didn’t care about my things, but I searched for an excuse to stay. An excuse to get Cara and run.
“Everything in your chambers is being packed as we speak. A few of my servants have packed a small travel bag with clothing for you to wear on the trip.” His explanation came across as tender, marked by patience.
“Do my parents know we’re leaving?” I continued to stall.
“They’ll be told.” He nodded his chin toward the interior of the carriage, and his patience melted into a command. “Get inside of the carriage, Elowyn.”
My skin tingled, advising me to listen, so I slipped into the coach and Aramis shut the door as I sat.
One, two, three. Inhaling… horse shit… and willing my thoughts to slow enough to figure out what to do about Cara and the Book. That I didn’t have a choice now, but to participate in my parents’ treason.
One, two, three. Exhaling—nothing. I felt absolute emptiness and my body jolted forward as the carriage moved. Gravel crunched beneath the wheels and the horses’ hooves as I slid over to the window and peered out.
The castle’s stoned walls, extending high into the sky, didn’t exude their usual threatening appearance. Not when my uncertain future loomed ahead.
As the line of carriages exited the stable yard and turned onto the ward, a man dressed in black clamoured down the castle’s front steps. The angle of the sun blinded my vision, but as I held up my arm and squinted, I made out Oulixeus’ face.
He stopped just a breath away from the gravel, locking eyes with me. The whiskey-hued depths of his gaze deepened, his jaw tautening, and his fingers curled into fists as he fixated on the carriage driving me away from this life.
Regardless of what my future held for me, one instinct felt certain—I didn’t need to be afraid of Oulixeus any longer.
Chapter 13
So this is freedom, I contemplated as the setting sun cast a pale, pinkish glow behind the darkening Wyvern Mountains. Fae erected the camp in the middle of a field blanketed with wildflowers, larkspur and clover painted the green grass with purples and whites. A gentle wind blew my hair to the side, tangling the ash-blonde strands in front of my face.
The Fae addressed me as Princess. They named me their future High Queen of Niafell. They bowed and offered respect, but I was their captive. Their safety net. Maybe they believed I could be used to manipulate my father. Keep him in line. Aramis chose the wrong Princess for that. Yet, with my father wanting the Book, maybe they could manipulate him in another way.
The wind blew the sweet scent of burning hickory over to me. In the distance, the wood crackled as groups huddled around its heat, laughing at crass jokes. It brought a soft smile to my face. In some weird way, I was excited. Being surrounded by the enemy and knowing Cara rotted in a dungeon made my stomach churn. But to be this far away from home—the excitement outweighed all logical sense.
With one last look at the mountains, I took an exaggerated breath and decided to return to the camp.
