Page 11 of Crowning of the Sword

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t sure what the … protocol was.”

Cole had turned Bruno to a lump of smoking meat, she reminded herself. He could turn on her at any moment. He was powerful. For a moment, she wondered how much stronger he would be if he won the tournament and could wield Ashe’s power as well. The thought was sobering.

The sky lightened again as his face cleared. “Of course you weren’t. Who could know about Lissa and me? I don’t even think I know myself. We have spent time together, in bed,” he added with a wicked smile that made his green eyes sparkle and Ember smiled with relief at seeing his good humour return, “and of course she thinks she might become my queen someday, but they all do. She has lovers, I have lovers. We do as we please. Life is for living, for enjoying, for taking and having.”

This idea fascinated Ember. She’d always felt life was for enduring, for struggling, with the occasional bright spot, like getting paid her weekly wage or going out for coffee with friends. But Cole’s world was all pleasure, all the time. Her life was at the mercy of others: Bruno, her boss, her acceptance into art school. But Cole directed his own life. He made the world as he wanted it. How would it be to live like that?

“None may judge me, save the Adjudicator,” Cole said, his expression becoming serious. “That’s his job, but certainly not in games of love.”

The castle was cool and dim as they stepped through the outer door, and it fascinated Ember that the gardens through the arched windows still appeared as though doused in twilight. Candles flickered as they walked, and Ember wondered why the castle was almost permanently at dusk even when the world outside had moved on.

“Who is the Adjudicator?” she asked.

“He is ancient. The oldest fae alive. He manages the tournament. He will be the one to imprison Ashe.”

Or you, she thought, but she didn’t say it.

He walked her through the maze of halls until she recognised the place where the forest grew and called for her servant. Lily appeared, curtseying prettily, and Cole instructed her to take Ember back to her room.

“I’ll see you soon. Remember, you have the run of the castle. Anything you want.”

He gave Ember a courtly bow and reached for her hand, pressing his lips to the back of her hand, and sending an arrow of heat through her, before striding away.

Ember watched him go for a moment, and then she turned and followed Lily back to her room.

Chapter 11

Lily brought a pair of silken pyjamas as soon as Ember mentioned, somewhat embarrassed, that she felt too exposed— prudish—sleeping in the nude. A new door had appeared in the wall of her chambers, and Lily showed her through to a bathroom, which Ember was sure had not been there before. Perhaps the fae didn’t need to take care of bodily functions? thought Ember. Perhaps this room had appeared just for her.

She stepped under a cool shower with drops as gentle as summer rain and spent some time trying out the rack of lotions and perfumes that covered the fragrance spectrum from floral to woody musk to fresh pine. Clean, refreshed and smelling like a florist’s shop, she sank into a bed was just as cool and soft as she remembered.

She fell asleep almost immediately, the strain of the day reflected in dreams of a burning tree beside a column of stone. There was an etching of something carved into the slab, the shadow of the outline flickering and moving under the flames of the tree. She drew closer and closer, the carving almost becoming clear, and then she woke.

It wasn’t quite light in her room, and she thought dazedly that it must be well before dawn, but then she remembered that the castle lay in twilight, and it could well be the middle of the night, or late afternoon, it didn’t matter. She was rested … and she was hungry.

The door opened as soon as the thought popped into her head, and Lily entered carrying a tray of … something delicious, Ember thought, as she sat propped up against her pillows, inspecting her breakfast—a thin pancake drizzled with sweet sauce and fresh fruit on the side, followed by juice and an invigorating bitter chocolate drink.

As Ember ate, she watched Lily move about the room, tying back the curtains to let the sweet air in, fluffing up the cushions on the couches, cutting white roses from the window to arrange in a crystal vase. She was light on her feet, but now and then she gave a funny little skip, before appearing to catch herself and resuming her usual graceful movements. Today’s uniform was narrower, more utilitarian than the last, and for the first time, Ember noticed two jutting bulges on Lily’s back, as though her shoulder blades were swollen. She couldn’t help staring and blushed when Lily turned suddenly and caught her.

“I’m sorry,” Ember said. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Lily gave her a surprised look. “It’s not my place to judge rudeness or not. There is no offence. I am a servant. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

Ember was quick to refute that. “You’re entitled to your opinion. If I was rude, you can say so. You can tell me. I won’t mind.”

Lily smiled, but she still looked confused. “Certainly. You’re curious about my …” she rolled her shoulders back and a faint shadow of pain crossed her face. “They cut my wings for disobedience. It’s … difficult to get used to.”

Ember stopped eating, the thin pancake a mashed-up ball of dough in her mouth that she found hard to swallow. “You had wings?”

She remembered the magnificent trailing wings of those she had seen in the corridors and in the ballroom, the height and width of them, the strength, and then she recalled Lily’s funny little skips, as if she were about to take flight—and had suddenly remembered she couldn’t.

Lily’s eyes grew glossy, and she turned away. Ember didn’t like to ask any more questions. Someone had mutilated and brutalised her for doing something wrong, and she clearly didn’t want to talk about it. She wondered what Lily had done, who would have done that to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and set the tray aside, the food only half eaten. She’d lost her appetite.

She went to wash, spritzed herself with some perfume, and returned to find that Lily had laid out a new outfit for Ember to wear. This one was a deep peacock blue, with a scooped neckline and Arabian-style pants that flowed over the hips and tied at the ankle, and a pair of soft blue slippers to match. Lily helped to tie it at the back, and once again, fussed with Ember’s hair and tweaked at her clothes until all was to her satisfaction. Without a mirror, Ember couldn’t tell, but she felt pretty.

“The prince said I might explore the castle,” she told Lily. “Will you help me find the forest?”

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