Page 15 of The Kingdom of Flames

“Then you pass to the next season. Or leave, to your home.”

“Will you take my voice and mind from me if I do?” Celestine asked.

Blackdawn did not smile nor scowl. “No. If you are the final bride, you can carry the tale of how the folly and greed of this court saw man fall. You may leave at any time. The Captain of Calendar will never be far from you.”

Lord Encarmine turned to her, his circlet of swords and daggers on his brow. His red eyes had dulled, and the stubble on his strong, tanned jaw looked rough enough to scar flesh.

“Woe to the vanquished. I will take my prize now, won and earned. Come, Final Bride of the Painted Realm.”

The throne in his section of the court disappeared, the wall turning into a tunnel where the sun shone.

“The first touch you shall know will be upon my Red Banner.”

Celestine walked forward. Encarmine climbed upon a great warhorse that came forth from the opening to sunlight. He held his blood red banner high.

She walked towards him. He was mythology made manifest. For a moment, the world flickered, and she saw a thousand black blades embedded in his body. Then it stopped.

She stepped closer, every step feeling like the edge of the world.

My crest will fall to this lord of battle.

Celestine turned back to the court, where the remaining Lords in their seasons four regarded her. Some had hungry eyes, others had jealousy.

The Lord of the Black Banner was the only one not looking at her. He sat in deep pallor, morose upon his throne of shadow.

Captain Aidric, in his mirrored mask nodded to her.

A powerful arm, armored in scale and leather, reached down.

“My lady,” Lord Encarmine spoke.

Celestine took his hand, and he lifted her so easily, like a doll, onto his war mount. The wall fell away, and a land of sun, of dry dust, glowed beyond her. Not the Painted Realm, not Calendar, but somehow both.

She sat across his lap, and with one arm, he steadied her. His other commanded the reins.

“Wrap your hands around this banner,” Encarmine spoke, motioning the spear that sat in a stirrup to her. Above him, the Red Banner flew where there was no wind. “All Seasons fell so you could feel summer’s touch.”

Celestine did, and the spear felt so tangibly real, unlike anything in this place called Calendar. She meant to look towards the portal they now sauntered towards, but she turned her head, draped in this soldier’s arms, and locked eyes with Encarmine.

They marched into Summer.

Chapter 5

The First Touch of Summer

The touch of his sun was the first thing she felt when they cantered into his realm. Dry dust kicked up from a warm wind and Celestine squinted as it stung her eyes.

This is his realm. They are all connected at Calendar, as ours is. But this is not the land of the red banners that I know.

Unlike the stillness of Calendar, this world held such a vibrance. It was vivid. Like Encarmine.

What surprised her the most was that there were people here. She saw them in the distance as she rode, a lady on a steed in the arms of a horned god of war.

A god who nearly slew another for the right to part my thighs.

The thought was barbed and held such a weight she turned away from it in her mind. The enormity of this being, his raw power, it might kill her. At least for now, he was courtly—gentle almost.

The drying dust kicked into her eyes and watered them. In the Realm of the Red Banner, she saw Encarmine’s mark everywhere. Every village held his sigil. Every house flew a red silk that billowed in the wind.

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