Page 12 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

“That will have him in a splendid mood,” Naya stated before she rolled her eyes.

“Isn’t he always in a splendid mood?” Torin remarked as he swaggered up towards the direction of the dining hall and disappeared. His voice was still audible as he greeted the other hunters.

Marcus nodded politely and glanced between Emara and Naya. “I am guessing you would like to be escorted to your rooms?”

“No need; I know exactly where my quarters are, Marcus.” Naya lifted a hand. “I did live here.”

Emara had noticed the difference in her tone and body language since stepping back through the tower doors. It was colder, a mask to cover her true warmth, and she wore it like a second skin.

The wife of the commander.

“Of course, Commanding Wife Blacksteel.” His lips thinned into a line on his face.

Warrior or not, he clearly respected the tiny woman.

“I will head to my quarters, but not before I see my sister.” Her eyes twinkled.

“Your sister?” The words left Emara’s mouth before she could swallow them back.

Naya smiled, adding that warmth back into her cold mask. “Yes, my sister. I think you may know her.” She slipped a little look towards Marcus. “She goes by the name of Rhea.”

“Rhea is your sister?” Emara couldn’t stop her mouth from opening in shock.

“She is, indeed.” She smiled again. “Although I am not present in the tower, I still need my eyes, ears, and blood within these walls to make sure my boys are looked after.” A fierceness coated her face. “Marcus, please make sure Emara is settled into her new room.”

His brows furrowed as his lips parted. “New room? I thought she would like to return to her old one in the infirmary?”

Naya pouted before she spoke again, her mask reinstating itself firmly on her face. “I know your intentions weren’t to insult me, Marcus, but I hate to inform you that you have.”

Marcus straightened, his hands immediately going behind his back, his face drained of colour.

“In case you have forgotten yourself, Emara Clearwater is the elemental heir of House Air. She is about to lay claim to the House as their empress.” She lifted her chin, and although she was more than a foot shorter than Marcus, she somehow managed to look down at him. “A pokey room in an infirmary—where warriors take their final breath—will not do. She is to be escorted to new accommodation. Something fit for an empress of this kingdom.”

Marcus nodded, trying to recover from his dressing down. “Of course, ma’am. I wasn’t thinking.”

Emara’s jaw almost hit the floor for a second time. In all her grief, she had almost forgotten about her bloodline and what it would mean for her as an empress of a witching coven. Her stomach flipped and a sickening sensation watered in her mouth.

“See to it that she has one of the rooms in my quarter in the west of the tower, one with her own bathing chamber.” Her emerald cape swept the floor as she walked forward before looking over her shoulder at Emara and winking.

Marcus nodded and bowed, stepping into line behind her. “Right away, Commanding Wife Blacksteel.”

“Oh, and Marcus.” She stopped in her tracks and threw another look over her shoulder. “Could you please inform your commander that his wife has returned to the tower? I think it’s best that he should know that I intend to stay for a while.”

“Right away, ma’am.” Marcus leapt into motion at her command.

Emara couldn’t help but feel a little twitch at the corner of her lips as she watched the emerald cape disappear down the corridor in a flood of authority.

Marcus directed Emara through never-seen-before corridors of the tower. They were more decorated than the ones she had seen previously; it was clear that this wing was actually inhabited and not just for training hunters. They stopped outside a large set of gilded double doors that were much larger than the ones that hung in the infirmary.

“This will be your new room.” He pushed the doors open to reveal a large open space with a full view of Huntswood city just below the window.

For the third time since stepping through the foyer doors this morning, her jaw dropped. Emara glanced at the double bed with a chrome frame that spiked into tiara-like-points.

Champagne-coloured sheets lay below several plush pillows that were displayed stylishly, dressing the bed. A padded comforter draped over the bottom of the bed, spilling onto the floor like melted gold, touching woven rugs designed with ancient runes in deep golds, purples, and burgundies. The warmth of the colours contrasted beautifully with the light that poured into the room, making it fresh, yet cosy. A vanity area sat against a panelled wall to the right, with a stunning mirror framed with metals and mosaic tiles that looked like it had been crafted by Rhiannon, Goddess of the Moon and Dreams. A deep windowsill lined with rosy cushions bordered the windows, and Emara could already see herself lying there. Reading, dreaming, wishing…

Emara looked over her shoulder at Marcus. “I am going to be sleeping in here?”

He smiled. “Yes. It’s fit for an empress, don’t you think?” His eyes were kind, but they revealed a slight sadness as he looked at her. “The bathing chamber is to your left.” He gestured to a door that she hadn’t yet explored.

---