Page 37 of The Kingdom of Flames

Lord Silas smiled. “Indeed. I have a proposition for you, Final Bride of Calendar. This land will break into a war for your crest in a matter of hours. Vermilion is at the tower yonder.” Silas motioned with the blade behind them. “It’ll be the ultimate affront, taking your crest on Encarmine’s lands. He might even succeed. Foolish, but I applaud the affront.”

Celestine scowled. “I don’t hear you clapping.”

Silas nodded, his eyes burning with laughter and amusement. “Some Lords are not a fan of this journey among the banners you mean to have. The Painted Realm has turned from a rich lordling, ripe for the plucking, to a beggar from whom they want to take the last coins. The Seasons war, though I care little. I’m going to take you to Lord Vermilion, and he’s going to ravage you until you’re half dead atop the battlements, ruining you for Encarmine. Maybe he’ll leave you, split and bleeding, fed upon. Perhaps he’ll take you with him to his realm.”

Celestine shuddered. “Why would you take me to him?”

Lord Silas spread his hands. “No one pays higher for a prize than the thief can’t steal it.”

“Your proposition?”

Silas looked up into her eyes. He was too handsome. Encarmine was like a god walking among men. But this one was like a rogue in a dream. “Let me steal your crest.”

She blinked. Lord Silas still stared at her. Celestine felt the confidence, the swagger of a thousand boastful boys in her youth looking back at her. “Let’s steal it from him together. No rage will set upon him any higher than paying for you to find that which he seeks is already gone.” Silas cackled where he sat.

“You’re insane,” Celestine said. “This is madness.”

“Mmm,” Lord Silas hummed and looked her up and down. “Come, Lady Celestine. I am a lover like no other. No one loves like a thief in the night. You may stop a war, and all you need to do is lift that dress and allow me to break that sweet crest that sleeps between your thighs.”

I would never.

“Let me go, Lord Silas. Take me to Encarmine. He’ll reward you for saving me.”

Silas laughed at that. “Have you not met the man? Have you not seen his wrath? I think not. I will keep my head on my shoulders. Now come,” Silas patted his thigh. “Be a good girl. My lap is the greatest throne you’ll chance to sit upon.”

Celestine leaned low so they were face to face. “No.”

Silas sighed and stood. “The greatest locks must be picked many times to open.”

Celestine waited.

Silas kept smiling.

“Are you taking me to Lord Vermilion?”

“That’s up to you.”

“What do you mean?” Celestine asked.

Lord Silas stepped forward now, taller than her. Swaggering, bravado.

There is such a dangerous allure to this man. This demigod.

"Men scream Encarmine’s name in the clash of battle,” Silas whispered and stepped even closer to her. “But women whisper mine when a honeyed tongue makes them shudder. When an heirloom worth a kingdom is stolen. When the beggar boy feasts on bread stolen from the drunk baker.”

The Lord of the Gold Banners came closer. She looked up at him.

“Vermilion is a monster and a fiend. I’d see his prize denied him. I thought of taking you to my ship. Showing you all I have stolen, all I possess. I’d show you such things, Celestine. You’d never want to leave except to take more."

“No,” Celestine whispered.

Lord Silas touched her cheek. “I’d not make a prize of you, Final Bride. You have never felt the freedom of breaking laws instead of abiding by them. Encarmine rides now. He rides for Vermilion in his keep. He will marry you regardless of what happens, whomever takes your crest, because that stony heart of his does beat for you.”

Silas leaned down, his body coming close and touching hers, his voice whispered in her ear. “I’ll delay selling you to Vermilion, so Encarmine may contest.”

“For a kiss.”

Celestine shut her eyes.

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