Cursed Flames Remain

1. CHAPTER 1

Aveline

In all my time in the kingdom of Myros, I had never seen so many henbane flowers in one place.

I had scoured the shores of the Saltale Sea every summer, but I was lucky if I found even three or four blooms to harvest. I reached out with my gloved hand, plucking the creamy purple leaves covered in dots from their stem.

The foul odor filled my nostrils as the petals stuck to my glove.

Oh, how I craved crushing a few of these poisonous leaves and slipping them into Queen Dyata’s tea.

I shook my head as I slipped the petals into my satchel, dispelling the thought.

These leaves were only for me. Despite my hatred for the queen of Myros, I needn’t be so impulsive.

She was Kallias’s mother after all, and if we were to wed one day, I would need to learn to be civil with her—at the very least.

I could hear my name ringing out across the open field, but I didn’t turn my head.

I only needed to grab a few more. There was no telling when I would have time to come back to harvest again.

King Faris expected Gothryn—the kingdom across the sea—would attack at any moment.

The entire kingdom of Myros was on high alert.

Prince Kallias was sure to have me safely tucked away in the castle for the impending months.

I might be skilled with the bow and arrow, but I was lackluster with the blade.

Fighting didn’t thrum in my blood the way it did for others.

I blamed it on my heritage, as did the rest of the kingdom.

Humans would always be lesser than fae.

“Aveline!” The soft hum of Enora’s voice reached my ears once more. I tossed my silky black hair over my shoulder, picking as many of the sticky leaves as I could before she reached me.

I would need them later.

“There you are! Didn’t you hear me calling your name?” Enora huffed, her hands on her hips as if she had run across the kingdom in search of me.

I turned toward her, shielding my eyes from the flare of the sun as I met her sapphire gaze.

“I was lost in thought,” I mused, a smile playing across my rouge-stained lips as she raised her pale brows at me.

She gave me a playful shove that had me falling back a step. Enora might not have been that much taller than me, but she was Veytari. She had the strength of the fae on her side.

I was merely human.

Her might could eclipse mine even on her worst day. Despite having grown up together, she still hadn’t grown accustomed to the fact that I was fragile. Breakable. Painfully mortal.

She tucked an ivory lock of hair behind her pointed ear, her gaze squinting across the sea behind me.

The cliff where I had been harvesting herbs for the apothecary had become eclipsed in shadow within moments of her approach.

The sky darkened with roiling thunderclouds as the waves beneath the steep cliff’s drop thrashed angrily against the weathered stone.

I stepped back toward her, and she wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against her side.

“Prince Kallias sent me to fetch you. A storm is coming.”

I nodded, the smile that lifted the corner of my mouth not reaching my eyes.

I hadn’t had nearly enough time to harvest today, and I wasn’t sure when I would be able to sneak out of the palace again.

I was running low on belladonna and black hellebore, too.

I would have to see what could be done about it in the coming weeks.

I sent a silent prayer up to Orrithan—the god of the forest—that I would have another opportunity to scavenge after the summer solstice and that I would be granted a plentiful forage. Not that the prayer would do me much good.

The age of the gods was long over.

“I have to stop at the market before heading back,” I told her, following along as she dragged me across the overgrown field toward the palace of Myros.

The grass had grown tall this summer. Tall enough to brush my elbows as I fished through my satchel, counting off the elixirs I could make with what I had gathered today. It would have to be enough to last me these next few weeks.

“I’ll come with. We don’t want Mother Dearest to worry,” she teased.

I elbowed her in the side and she had the decency to at least pretend it hurt.

“She isn’t my mother…yet,” I replied tensely.

My relationship with Queen Dyata was strained, and that was putting it lightly.

I had to admit that if I were in her shoes, I might feel the same way.

Kallias Ashbourne was the sole heir to the throne of Myros.

It was unheard of for Veytari fae to mix with humans at all, let alone royalty.

Queen Dyata didn’t intend for Kallias and I to be the first.

“But she will be if Kallias has his way.” Enora nodded to herself, letting her arm drop from my shoulders as we turned toward the worn dirt path south of the castle.

I narrowed my eyes at her back as she trudged ahead of me, but I knew she was right.

One glance behind me was enough to confirm that no one could see the henbane from here. The grass across the field had grown high enough to conceal the alcove by the sea wall where it had begun to grow. It was illegal to harvest poisons, but that had never stopped me before.

I followed her billowing dark cloak along the dirt-laden path around the castle, toward the markets of Majur. I was hoping to find at least one mandrake root before returning to the apothecary.

The alley to the marketplace steeply sloped toward the Saltale Sea, a narrow vein of cobblestone glistening with remnants of the high tide.

Weathered stone buildings on the verge of collapse leaned inward overhead, their balconies bowed with age.

They were draped in nets and rope, windows gaping out onto the street with shutters weathered by salt air and age.

Gulls wheeled and cried overhead, wings flashing white against the darkening sky.

As we reached the end of the narrow alley, the marketplace came into view.

The ocean shimmered just beyond, endless and alive.

The market stalls of Majur unfurled like a living tapestry before us, warm and vibrant.

The booths were framed with timber and oak, crowded close together with linen cloths billowing above, secured tightly overhead.

They served as awnings to protect the wares below from the volatile Myrosian weather.

The stands were heavy with fruit, spiced breads, bolts of dyed cloth, charms, and even enchantments.

Common fae magic was everywhere you looked in Myros.

Every fae had magic of some sort, some more specialized than others.

Common magic was often found in simple illusions, growing plants, weaving fabrics, healing, and creating glowlight.

It was the more specialized magic, such as shapeshifting and altering the mind and memories, that was possessed by few.

But anything could be found in the markets of Majur, if one only searched hard enough.

I gazed toward the port, but the clouds appeared to be holding off—for now. I should have plenty of time before I was caught in the deluge of rain the incoming storm threatened.

Enora trailed her fingers along the wooden market stalls, her eyes on me despite pretending as though they weren’t.

I knew exactly where I needed to go—heading straight toward the end of the third row.

I flipped open the leather flap on my satchel, fishing for coins.

Osric was a good friend of mine and indulged in similar… interests.

If one might call mithridatism an interest.

“Good day, Miss Aveline. I haven’t seen you in ages,” he greeted. He reached out to clasp his worn, weathered hand in my own.

The contrast between my delicate pale skin against his aged, wrinkling tan was startling.

Osric spent his time outside, his skin aged by years spent beneath the Aelorian sun.

I was lucky that my mother, Lavanya, had been an alchemist and herbologist before me.

Not only had she developed the only corrosion-resistant coating for the king’s weapons, but her duties to the crown and our shop had allowed me to spend most of my time indoors.

My mother raised me alone—my father having left before I was born. I searched for him for a time but eventually came to the realization that if he wanted nothing to do with us, then I wanted nothing to do with him.

I had spent most of my years as a child managing the counter at our apothecary. It wasn’t until I was much older that I was allowed to travel out to harvest for myself. My pale, delicate skin was thankful for it.

“It’s good to see you, Osric.” I squeezed his hand before my gaze searched the glass case before us.

“What can I help you find?” he asked, his wrinkled hands moving to insert the large, ornamental key into the lock on the glass case.

“Mandrake?” I asked, my voice hopeful as I reached up onto my tiptoes to see what he had hidden behind the counter. “And moonflower, if you have it.”

Osric’s face lit up with a smile, eyes crinkling. “It’s your lucky day, Miss Aveline.”

I nodded with a soft smile, falling back onto my heels. My lucky day, indeed.

Osric unlocked the case, slipping three mandrake roots free and turning to add moonflower to the bundle. He wrapped it tightly in a thick layer of parchment, securing the package with knotted twine.

If I were found with these…there was no telling what Queen Dyata would do. There was only so much Prince Kallias could do to protect me if I were caught breaking the laws of Myros.

I stuffed the parchment into my satchel, effectively concealing the other herbs I had gathered while exploring the plains below the castle.

I gave Osric my thanks and turned to leave, slamming directly into Enora’s chest. Her hands were on her hips once more, her gaze darkening as she peered at me through lidded eyes.

“Aveline. This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”