29. Chapter 29 #2
Now, he stood before her in full court regalia, adorned in a black doublet stitched with silver thread that gleamed like spider silk, his raven hair slicked back with ruthless precision.
Onyx colored eyes gleamed like polished stone, his features carved with the kind of elegance only the cruel ever wore well.
And she was shocked at his towering height and frame; he seemed to swallow the entire room with his suffocating presence.
“Well, well,” he purred. “The mortal prisoner. I almost didn’t recognize you without the chains.” He held out his hand, adding, “Sylven Draeth.”
Ren’s fingers curled slightly around her glass. “And yet I recognized you immediately,” she said coolly. “Ren.” She reluctantly settled her fingers in his, summoning all the restraint she could not to cringe when he brought her knuckle to his dry, thin lips.
“Prince Talen mentioned your valiant efforts. Ogre-slaying, was it?” He tilted his head, eyes flicking over her form with idle disdain. Her stomach lurched when his eyes roamed her slowly, up and down, as if appraising cattle.
Ren arched a brow. “Someone had to deal with them. You and your soldiers seemed awfully absent during the fight.”
“Ah, yes. While you were setting half the forest on fire, some of us had the far more dignified task of keeping the prisoners from panicking. Order must be maintained, even in chaos.” He clicked his tongue. “Still. Incinerating most of the forest. A bit dramatic, but effective.”
Ren smiled sweetly. “Oh, right. Order. Is that what you call it? Because from where I stood, you and your soldiers were galloping away the moment things got ugly.” Ren leaned in slightly.
“You fled at the first sign of danger and left chained prisoners to fend for themselves. Where I’m from, we call that cowardice.
” She didn't wait for his reply. “Next time, I’ll try not to ruin your scenic view with all the flames and carnage.”
The barb landed. Silence stretched between them, brittle .
Then, Sylven laughed softly. “I didn’t realize you were aiming for a theatrical debut.
I suppose congratulations are in order. You’ve clawed your way from shackles to…
this.” His gaze drifted down the length of Ren’s dress, lingering just long enough to sting.
“Shall we dance? It would be a shame not to see how well you navigate the floor.”
“No,” she said flatly. “I’d rather dance with an ogre.”
Sylven’s smile faltered, but he recovered and stepped in closer, his voice dropping low.
“How quaint. The mortal pretends she has teeth. Careful. Pride may keep you upright in a ballroom, but it won’t save you on the battlefield or at court.
There are games here far older and crueler than you can fathom.
And some of us never forget the ones who arrive in chains. ”
Ren’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t flinch. He held her gaze for a beat longer, as if waiting for her to shrink under the weight of his words.
She didn’t.
With a final sneer, he pivoted on his heel and disappeared into the ballroom, his presence leaving a trail of frost in his wake. She watched as he stalked off.
It wasn’t until he disappeared from her view that Ren exhaled slowly.
She’d already survived worse than his contempt, and she wasn’t done fighting yet.
The fire in the hearth had simmered down, no longer the roaring blaze that had greeted her. She watched it for a long moment. Then she stepped closer. Ren knelt before the flames. Her fingers hovered in the space just beyond the heat, and still, she leaned in farther.
The flames licked higher as if reaching back, responding. Her breath hitched. Her hand moved on instinct until her fingers brushed the edge of the fire. There was no pain. Only warmth. Familiar and ancient.
Like it knew her.
The flames curled around her hand without burning, wrapping her skin in gold, whispering through the blood in her veins.
Ren’s eyes widened. The moment she touched the flames, the vision struck.
Smoke choked the world. A silver forest bathed in moonlight warped before her eyes, branches curling like talons. And in the center was a massive beast cloaked in shadow and mist .
Its voice was a deep pull in her chest like a second heartbeat. Words whispered through the fire:
“Flamebearer… come to me.”
Ren staggered back, the brazier flaring with sudden heat, then extinguishing into smoke. Her breath came fast. No one else had seen it. No, this was not a message for the court, or for Talen, or even Kaelin.
It was for her.
Her head spun with the weight of it. She could feel her magic stirring. The first creature had crossed her path. This second one knew her.
And it was waiting.
She pressed a hand to the wall to steady herself. Somewhere deep in the castle, voices murmured: what sounded like violin music and harps, Kaelin’s preoccupation with ballroom dancing, the usual noise of royalty moving in circles.
She didn’t have time to wait.
Without another word, Ren turned on her heel and headed toward the direction of her room, fully intending to get the hell out of this dress the moment she reached her door, and with a haunted bog in her mind.