King of Fire and Flames (Courts of the Star Fae Realms #2)

Chapter 20

Leaf

Ruhh led me to a secluded corner of town, where the tower-like structure of the fire conservatory rose high above the surrounding pine forest. Crafted entirely from vibrant stained glass, its gleaming spire speared the sky and seemed to go on forever.

As I followed Ruhh through the entrance, my mouth fell open in awe at the building’s dark beauty.

While the weather had improved and sunlight peeked through the clouds, not a single ray shone inside the conservatory. Instead, magical flames danced along a channel beneath the windows, casting an eerie glow over the entire space. Shadows slinked across the silver-tiled floor, while vibrant red and orange hues from the stained glass adorned the lush foliage sprawling over most surfaces.

“How do the plants grow without sunlight?” I asked Ruhh.

“Magic, silly.” She cackled and sailed off to hover behind the royal family, perched on scrolled silver chairs arranged behind a long black table so polished that it reflected their figures upon its surface.

Carefully navigating around streams of magical substances that flowed along the floor, some channels coursing with water, others with fire, I moved toward the high table until I stood in front of the Fire Prince.

“Hello, Zali . Why don’t you join us?” said Bakhur, patting his lap. “I’ve saved you a seat.”

Azarn ignored me, focusing on his meal. Estella shook her head slightly, and Marcella dropped her fork with a loud clang as if shocked by my arrival.

“There is a spare place beside me, human,” the king’s sister said. “Come and tell me all about your time in Coridon.”

Coridon .

I stifled a groan of longing.

The Storm Court was a golden, light-filled paradise compared to the smelly hellhole that was Taln. In truth, I preferred Arrow’s city a million times over the Sun Realm capitol, an opinion best not shared with Marcella.

“Call me by my name instead of human and I’ll gladly sit with you,” I said, pasting on a perky smile.

“Zali, please join me,” she replied with a gracious nod and an equally fake smile.

As I took a seat at the end of the table, Ruhh zipped over and floated above my right shoulder, ghostly wisps of her dress caressing my skin.

“Sister,” Marcella said, curling strands of long, red hair around her finger. “Let Zali and I speak in private. Go talk to Estella. She and her maidens will soon begin planning Bakhur’s wedding to the mortal. Perhaps you can share your dreams for the ceremony you would have had if the Storm King had been gracious enough to accept father’s offer for your hand.”

Ruhh let loose a shriek of fury, then disappeared, a trail of green dust floating through the conservatory’s arched doorway in her wake.

Marcella shrugged, her lips twisting cruelly. “It is quite difficult to get Ruhh to stop speaking about her fabled wedding to King Arrowyn. Strange she had no desire to lecture Estella about it now .”

“Quite strange,” I lied.

Marcella had made it clear she enjoyed torturing her poor deceased sister, and sympathy for Ruhh surged through me.

She poured wine into an obsidian goblet, then passed it to me.

“What happened to the orc that was dragged before the court last night?” I asked, even though I already knew the sickening answer.

“The one who helped you escape Coridon?” She waved her hand dismissively. “He is in prison, of course.”

“Will he be killed? Or released after serving his sentence?”

“Neither.” She reclined slightly as a servant dressed in a regal crimson coat, which concealed the top of his goat-like legs, deposited two crystal bowls of spun sugar and cream on the table in front of her.

“I see you have a good appetite,” I teased.

A russet eyebrow rose. “One of them is for you, wise mouth.”

“Wise mouth? I assume that’s a high compliment in the Sun Realm,” I said, scooping the dessert into my mouth while trying not to moan. The flavors were to die for. Not literally, I hoped, wondering if they’d dare to poison me.

“Why must your king punish a mere sailor so severely?”

“A mere sailor?” Marcella repeated, spitting flecks of cream on my tunic. “Helping you escape from Coridon without Azarn’s permission was treason, and those who commit such acts don’t fare well in the Sun Realm. How do the people of Dirt and Stone treat their betrayers?”

“Dust and Stone,” I corrected as I leaned close to her ear. “Surely you remember my brother Quin’s fate.”

“But Quin Omala wasn’t a traitor. He worked in partnership with my brother, the King of Fire and Flames.”

“Which still made him a traitor to his queen , and to refresh your memory, that’s me .”

“Perhaps. But as yet, you wear no crown.” She nodded toward my feet. “And instead, an impossible-to-remove mergelyn anklet.”

I bristled at the mention of the stupid device chaffing my skin. I had to find a way to get the dust-damned thing off. Even the thought of it monitoring my every move drove me mad.

“And before long, I’ll be married to your nephew, Bakhur. Then I’ll be a princess and a queen.”

“But s till wearing Melaya’s marvelous device,” she whispered across my cheek.

“True.” I smiled sweetly. “Any chance you’d like to share some tips on how to remove it?”

Marcella laughed. “I find you rather tolerable, Zali. For a powerless mortal, you have surprising courage.”

I almost shot my mouth off and reminded her I had reaver blood. Thankfully, I didn’t. It was best if Marcella thought of me as weak and helpless. It served my purpose, which was to get Orion out of that terrible cave and as far away from Taln as soon as possible.

I had no idea how I would achieve it, but I was certain Estella and Esen could help. And Arrow. I was beginning to think he might be handy to have around, too.

“Where’s the Storm King hiding?” I said, licking my spoon.

“Ask Ruhh. She’s always following him around. But Nukala tells me the Storm Court party can often be found at the Roundwood Tavern. It’s flooded with sunlight and is close to the portal between our realms, so you can understand their attraction.”

“Oh? Do you think they’re planning on leaving soon?”

She shook her head. “Not by that route. They gained entrance to the town via the portal, but Melaya has since warded it against their exit. They’ll have to ride out of Taln. Or fly, in Arrowyn’s case.”

“And they must already know this, or you wouldn’t have told me, am I right?”

“Precisely,” she agreed.

“Why doesn’t Melaya overthrow your brother? He appears to hold all the power.”

“Not everything is as it seems, Zali,” she replied, her gaze traveling along the table until it landed on the king.

“And Nukala? He doesn’t do much except fawn over Azarn. Is his sole function to entertain the king and spy on Arrow’s party?”

She crunched a piece of twisted candy between her teeth. “As I said, not everyone is as they first seem.”

“Every thing ,” I corrected. “You said not every thing was as it seems, not everyone.”

“No wonder you drove Arrowyn insane,” she said with a huff. “You’re a stickler for details.”

I scanned the table. Bakhur and his father were deep in conversation, their dark heads bowed together. Ruhh had returned and performed a ghastly dance for Estella, her mottled bones highlighted red by the stained glass and flickering flames as she spun, her mouth set in a distorted grimace that may very well have signaled pleasure.

“Bakhur doesn’t seem very interested in me,” I said to Marcella, feigning disappointment.

“He’s a prince. His ego requires stroking. He invited you to eat with him, and you rejected his offer. You should seek him out more often. Enjoy his company.”

Marcella was right. Despite the impossibility of relishing time spent with Bakhur, I needed to appear as though I might make a biddable wife. Earn his trust, so I could one day exploit it.

Smoothing my braid over my shoulder, I stood up, smiling at Marcella before strolling behind the row of seats and stopping at Bakhur’s side.

“The dessert was delicious,” I said for want of a better opener.

His head jolted up, gold eyes fixing on me with malicious interest. “Ah, my future bride has returned. Tell me, if I asked nicely, would you sit on my lap now that the sugar has sweetened your temperament?”

It took all my strength not to roll my eyes so hard they’d fall out of my head. “Thank you, but I’ve been sitting too long and prefer to stand. Bakhur, no one has spoken to me about our marriage arrangements. I presume it’s still going ahead. We… really are betrothed?”

“Yes, of course.” Bakhur sighed. “Now you’re boring me, human.” He waved his hand, and the low flames that licked along the conservatory walls burst into motion, leaping high and forming seven fiery bodies, three times larger than a tall fae.

I watched in horror as they spun toward the table in an explosion of sparks and embers.

“How do you like my fire tanourans?” asked Bakhur.

The creatures writhed and twirled to the rhythmic whoosh and crackle of their own movements, black eyes staring blankly ahead. Ruhh laughed, clapping her hands in delight. But I couldn’t stop myself from flinching every time the tanourans’ arms reached toward me.

I cleared my throat. “They’re very… warming .”

He scoffed, then flicked his fingers at me, a dismissive gesture if ever I’d seen one. “Go speak to Mother about the wedding. The arrangements have nothing to do with me.”

“I will. When is your next private party? I’d love to attend, since I missed the last one.” Lowering my voice, I whispered in his ear, “I look forward to getting to know you in a more relaxed environment.”

Beside us, King Azarn snorted. “I’m sure my son will enjoy your presence, Princess. But Bakhur’s company is something you must surely learn to endure .”

“I will do my best.” I bowed my head and started toward the queen, who sat still and composed, as if deep in meditation.

“Queen Estella,” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Can we speak about the wedding?”

She stared ahead, her iridescent, indigo-and-black gown sparkling with stars that moved like they floated on water, the material alive with magic.

“Don’t disturb her,” Marcella called out. “The queen is communing with her family from the Star Court. She reacts with aggression when startled.”

Withdrawing my hand slowly, I said, “Thank you for the warning, Marcella. Please tell the queen I would like to meet with her to discuss the wedding as soon as it is convenient.”

I dipped a flustered curtsy and did my best not to run as I marched toward the exit while the fire dancers whirled around me, embers falling on my clothes and the smell of burned cloth assaulting my nose.

Esen had joined the two soldiers guarding the door outside the conservatory, and she pushed off the wall as soon as she saw me. “Come, Zali,” she said, “I’ll make sure you find your way back to the tower.”

“I don’t need hel—”

She silenced me with a glare, and I muttered something nonsensical about the conservatory disorientating me, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Arrow will come to your room as soon as he can, probably during dinnertime,” she hissed. “I implore you to listen to him for once.”

My heart exploded in my chest. “Did you tell him what the fire fae did to—”

“Sh...” She cut me off for the second time with a glance at my mergelyn anklet. “As per King Azarn’s order, you must make ready to help the Storm King heal. In the meantime, speak no more to me, Princess of Dust. Your grating voice exhausts me.”

“Likewise,” I murmured, smothering a laugh with my fingers.

The walk back to the tower was solemn, the silence broken only by the sound of our footfalls and breathing as we climbed the stairs to my chamber.

At the door, I turned and touched her arm. “Would you like to come in? If you enjoy books, perhaps I can read to you. Or we could just… train together. Might be fun.”

Pressing her finger to her lip, she shook her head. “Just in case,” she mouthed, dropping her gaze to my ankle again, a look of genuine disappointment on her face.

That damn stupid anklet. It was more than possible that Melaya couldn’t eavesdrop through it and Bakhur had only said so just to stop me from scheming with my friends. But Esen was right. It wouldn’t be wise to say too much just in case.

After an hour of exercise, I bathed, dressed in a simple silk gown, and then took a book of rather gruesome murder poetry over to the window seat. As the sun set, gulls and fire hawks swooped through a gold-tinged sky, hunting for their dinner in the last of the daylight.

Instead of reading, I stared over the cliffs toward the sea, thinking about Arrow.

It was getting harder to believe that he had betrayed me. When I put it all together, the sequence of events, everything he had said and done, his innocence was the only thing that made sense.

So, perhaps he did care about me, and all was right in the realms, after all.

When my eyes grew heavy and I entertained the idea of taking a quick nap before dinner, a fist pounded on the door three times. Then I heard a deep, rumbling voice.

The Storm King had come to visit his Aldara.

“As promised,” he said as the latch turned, “I’m here to feed from you, Princess Zali.”

Arrow and the same two guards from last night entered my chamber, their windswept hair and cloaks carrying the scent of woodsmoke and brine.

“Oh, you came,” I said, meeting the intense gaze of the fae who had once enslaved me. I forced my lips into a sneer. “I was beginning to think you’d lost your nerve.”