Page 37 of Crowning of the Sword

“He didn’t lay a finger on me. He was a …”

She was about to say, a gentleman, but he let out a sharp laugh, one that jangled like rusty springs. “Of course he didn’t! The only fae who would bother with a human is me, the only fae who would lower themselves to be with one is me. And what does that say about me? That I’m willing to lie in the filth and the muck? It says that I am not afraid of getting dirty, not averse to consort with the corrupt. I am the most worthy. I am the Sword.”

He was panting with his hate, every word laced with venom, but she could see his anger wasn’t really about her anymore. It was about Ashe.

“But I’m back now.”

She tried to sound as gentle and as soothing as she could, hoping she could dissipate his fury. She’d often foolishly imagined that she had some influence over him, that he respected her. But she saw quite clearly now that no such influence existed. She may have given him some pleasure, but it was of the lowest, most detestable kind. It wasn’t two souls connecting in an expression of mutual worship. It wasn’t even a joyful act of physical release, for that at least would have been honest and primal and true. Cole was like an addict, pretending he was in control of the drug when, in actual fact, the drug was in control of him. He was with her because he needed her. He drank from her humanity because he had none of his own. And in doing so, it proved to him that he was powerful, untouchable.

Lily plucked at her and whispered, “It’s the necklace. That’s how he can find you —”

Cole lunged past Ember, seizing Lily in a brutal grip, and hurling her into the air with all his strength. She shot upward, her wings snapping outward. For a moment she hung above Ember, like a guardian angel, and then Cole drew the white sword from his side and slashed once, twice.

Ember shrieked as Lily burst into a thousand million tiny little fragments. Her wings went last, dissolving into a puff of colourful feathers that fell around her like holographic snowflakes. Rufus broke into a howl of terror and flattened himself on the floor. Ember collapsed, her legs refusing to hold her. She gaped up at Cole and scrabbled along the floor until her back pressed against the wall, as far from him as she could get. He covered the space between them in three angry strides, before bending and gripping her chin between fingers of steel.

“You do not defy me. You do not.”

He kissed her then, a kiss full of loathing and longing that stole the breath from her lungs and when he pulled away, her lips were bruised, and she could taste blood in her mouth. He vanished, air rushing to fill the empty space. Ember shuddered, her entire body trembling with terror and grief. A single feather drifted across the floor in the gentle breeze and then it too, disappeared.

And Ember wept.

Chapter 31

Ember had no memory of going to bed but woke the next morning in a tangle of sheets. Her eyes were sore and felt swollen, and her pillow was damp with tears. A maid was just settling a tray on a table by the window, and for an instant, Ember thought that the night before had just been a hideous, horrible dream. She was about to greet Lily with a cry of relief, but the maid turned, and she saw it wasn’t Lily at all, but someone else, a sweet-faced young girl with sharp black eyebrows that winged up at the corners in two straight lines. Her wings were intact too, in mottled shades of brown and black, that Ember had initially mistaken for shadows cast by the flickering candles.

“Good morning,” the maid said. “May I get you anything?”

“I don’t think so,” said Ember. “But the maid who was here last night, Lily, she …”

“I apologise. I don’t know her.”

“She has a family, in the village nearby. I should speak to them.”

“I don’t know them,” the maid insisted. “I don’t know anything about anyone or anything.”

Her pale blue eyes were pleading. She clearly didn’t want Ember to push any further, and so Ember gave it up.

She slid out of bed and asked the maid to run her a bath and bring her some clothes. While the maid was occupied, Ember drank a glass of juice and nibbled on a piece of toast smothered with honey. Eating was the last thing she wanted to do, but she needed her strength. She needed to figure out what the hell she was going to do if Cole won. Perhaps it would be best not to wait on the outcome. If she could be gone before the final judgement, then perhaps she had a chance.

She crossed to the window and leaned out. The high wall surrounding the palace grounds was the only thing separating the castle from the greater world of fae. She’d never seen guards patrolling along it, although she assumed they were there, to keep the creatures of the wild at bay.

In the distance, the mountains of the Kingdom of Stones were a pale grey against the darker twilight. Sten might take her in. He’d wanted to buy her. But she didn’t want to be owned. She wanted to exist on her own terms. Could she just escape into the wilds and live … where? In the trees? With the spiders?

She thought hard, swallowing automatically, the toast a thick sweet lump that stuck to her teeth. Maybe she should return to her own place on Earth, but that too made her feel uncertain and frightened. She didn’t remember enough about it. She couldn’t remember where she lived, she couldn’t even recall how she’d ended up in Kingdom of Swords. Cole had taken that from her, and she hated him for it.

The bath did nothing to soothe her nerves, and neither did the brushing of her hair or the new dress of silver trimmed in white. The new maid wasn’t chatty like Lily. She did everything in silence, and it wore on Ember’s nerves. All Ember knew about her was her name, Mira. There came a soft knock at the door and Mira ran to open it, conferring softly with the guard outside before returning with a velvet box.

“The prince has asked you that join him, my lady.”

Ember felt panic churn in the pit of her stomach. Would he draw his sword and explode her into a puff of nothing? Her fear must have shown plainly on her face, for the maid was quick to add, “It’s the opening ceremony of the Games. The Adjudicator will be there. Everyone will be there.” She presented the velvet box to Ember. “A gift from the prince.”

Ember regarded it for a second, half-wondering if Cole had put some terrible thing inside, a severed finger perhaps, or some creepy-crawly bite-y creature. She popped the catch, ready to leap back if necessary, and the lid swung open. A beautiful tiara of silver with white opals lay inside. Ember glared at it. “And what’s that going to do to me? Track me? Give me hives?”

Mira looked startled. “It’s just a decoration. To match your dress.”

She removed the tiara from the box and settled it gently on Ember’s head, sliding the attached combs into her dark hair so that it wouldn’t slip.

Ember went into the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. Pain and grief were etched plainly on her face, making her eyes liquid and enormous. She could see the collar around her neck easily. It didn’t slip in and out of focus from a gold chain to leather. It was all leather now. But the tiara was just a tiara, ostentatious and glamorous, an ornament fit for a princess.

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