Page 51 of The Kingdom of Flames

The thought and terrible betrayal came to her mind unbidden, and she wished she wanted to resist it.

I could get used to this.

They dressed her. A fresh shift, tailored to her body, a gown of white and yellow, jewelry draped her hands but nothing on her neck. Celestine noticed all the attendants wore yellow ribbon necklaces, two or three strands folded over, with a looped emblem they wove through. The emblem was the symbol of Lord Solis’s estate.

An interesting adornment.

When the six attendants brought Celestine before the grand mirror, where white candles that smelled of lemonwood burned in polished braziers for reflective light, she couldn’t help but smile.

Celestine whispered, "Magic," while peering forward. They had coiled her hair, building it and letting it fall in controlled chaos. Her eyebrows sharpened, her lips outlined and brought forth by a smudging of coloring. She looked like a fairy tale.

The clothing, the jewels, the shoes, the gown, the stockings, it all felt so fine. So right.

No longer is beauty just a dice tumble to be weathered by age and warring season. The brush and paint of a face so expertly done, the bath so hot and skin treated, it polishes the gem instead of painting over it.

“Dinner awaits, my dear lady.” One attendant bowed behind her.

“Please, lead the way.”

“It is not our place, Lady Celestine. James shall meet you outside and announce your arrival.”

Celestine thanked each of them, taking their hands in hers. “Thank you, so very much.

The attendants looked down, not meeting her eye as if they were afraid to engage.

“Please, raise your eyes. Your hard efforts could have plowed a field, but instead, you have given me a magnificent gift.”

“James awaits, my lady.” No one met her eye.

Celestine bowed to them in honor and walked to the grand doors in silken slippers. They opened as soon as she was close, two guards in yellow vestments standing at attention for her.

The manservant James waited with eternal patience.

“Lady Celestine, please, to dinner. You are the guest of honor, the wondrous visitor, and the curiosity for all.”

Celestine followed James, who stood to her right, and the guards came behind them down the enormous staircase.

“This evening will be in the ballroom. My Lord Solis has spared no expense.”

“Lord Solis is extremely generous,” Celestine agreed. They walked past the main entrance into a garden parlor, which was white-framed and had high glass showing the immaculate species cultivated within and without.

“My lady, please forgive me. This is not a correction but a message. Lord Solis wishes to be your paramour, lover, and owner of your heart and flesh. Please call him Tristien this evening.”

“I should refer to him as thus when speaking to guests?”

“Indeed, my lady, though all will call him as his proper title.”

They walked down a long hallway now. Scalehall had been adorned with things of war, of conquest, of honor. Here, there was a sparsity. A clean whiteness with flashes of canary yellow everywhere. One room she passed she saw was empty save for a giant marble white statue of a woman hoisted high on rings, her face a meerschaum carving of rapture. This Lord of Summer was not the sun that burned the skin in march. He lit the fields in splendor.

It was hard not to be impressed.

“This is a wonder,” Celestine said aloud. “So many must work so hard to make this place so.”

James didn’t stop walking, but he did nearly miss a step. She felt his eyes upon her. Glancing over, she wondered if she had given offense. “Is something the matter?”

“No, my lady,” The handsome young man said. He had a full face, a shorter stature, and was easy on the eyes like most things in Tristien’s realm. “It is kind of you to notice such a thing.”

“The men that forge crowns are rarely the ones that don them,” Celestine said. “Who wields true beauty? Who possesses it? The one that can wear it, or the one that can create it?”

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