Page 8 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

“You, rolling your eyes at me.” He smiled. “It’s been a while.”

His stare pinned Emara to her seat and her cheeks heated as she looked down at the brewing tea in her cup. Looking up again, she realised Torin’s gaze was still all over her face, and she quickly found something else to look at. Gideon chewed the inside of his cheek, his eyes down on his untouched food. Kellen seemed oblivious as he munched into a piece of warm bread slathered in butter. But it was Naya’s gaze that caught her attention; her wise eyes glanced from Torin to Emara. An expression that Emara couldn’t read passed across her face.

Whatever it was, she tried to ignore it as she lifted her cup to her lips and sipped her tea. It warmed her throat as the mellow sweetness soothed it. As it made its way down into her belly, she exhaled, reminding herself that she was lucky to feel the warmth. She was lucky to be alive and feel anything. It was more than a lot of people got to feel.

She just didn’t feel anything else right now.

But she would.

She hoped she would feel something again, anything other than sorrow and a hollow ache in her heart. She vowed to herself as she took another sip of calming tea that she wouldn’t return to the spare room in the cottage today, which was filled with the memories of her broken cries. She would try her best to not torture herself about what she had endured and had done, about who she had killed, what she had seen. Instead, she would force herself to go outside or bathe or maybe even train. Something that would take the edge off her pain.

Training.

It would take away the burn in her heart and press it into her muscles, her skin, and her lungs.

It had helped her mind process everything that had happened before. It had given her ammunition as a survivor.

This time, she would train enough to become something that left her old self behind completely. There was no one left for her to be her old self around. Emara vowed that she would train to become something that her enemies would fear. They would reveal themselves again, and this time, she would be ready for them.

After breakfast, Emara soaked for longer than she should have in a steaming tub of water. Naya had insisted on a similar bathing ritual to Rhea’s when she had first gone to the tower, so she took the time to herself. Calming balms and scented oils had adorned her tub, and she noted them as another thing to be thankful for as they soothed her racing heart.

Feeling fresh in the new clothes provided by Naya, she found herself in front of the fire in the living area. Emara watched the flames dance together as snippets of memory from her own fire flashed through her mind. Admittedly, she was terrified of her own flames, not sure when they could soar from her hands and devour a full room. She didn’t know how to control them; fire had simply consumed her in the moments of her terror.

“Captivating, aren’t they?” Torin’s deep voice made it known that he was behind her, and she turned to see him in full training gear. “Fire is a dangerous little creature.”

Yes, it was a dangerous little creature. And clearly, she was too.

She swallowed her trepidation. “Do I need to fetch a cloak?”

“I think we will be warm enough when we get going,” he said with a nod.

“Why? What are we doing?”

“Believe it or not”—he grinned—“I have missed you asking questions. I know my mother wanted me to take you on a walk through these grounds, but we are going for a run. It always helps me when I need to clear my mind.”

She put up no fights, no remarks; she simply nodded and followed him outside. They made their way along a gravel path that she couldn’t quite remember ever coming through. She’d been given a natural sedative after the Uplift; it had kept her from burning herself out or destroying anything else, but it had also blocked out portions of her memory.

“Okay,” Torin said, clapping his hands together. He was evidently back in training mode. “Running in the woods is different from just going a normal jog around a sparring room. The Fairlands is home to all sorts of magical creatures. You need to be alert at all times. This is about keeping yourself vigilant as well as maintaining a nice pace and building your endurance.” A thoughtful frown appeared across his face, and his ocean eyes narrowed in on her. “Are you ready to get back into this? If you are not, we can just walk.”

“Without a shadow of a doubt, I want this,” Emara answered. She cleared her throat. “I need something else to focus on. My head is…busy.”

His forehead creased. “Mine too.” A moment passed between them, and she could feel frost sneaking into her bones, making her tremble. Torin rubbed his hands together. “Okay, let’s warm up then.”

After two days of running with Torin, Emara’s legs were as heavy as concrete blocks and her lungs burned. But the ache in her chest didn’t hurt like it had the first day Torin had made her run through the Fairlands. In fact, her breathing was steady; she was a little out of breath, but she continued to bound through the forest paths. She was rather shocked at how well she had kept pace with Torin. Or maybe she was shocked at how well he had kept himself at her pace. She could tell he wanted to take off, but he didn’t. Her breathing had been laboured at first, but as Torin had coached her technique, her lungs had relaxed in her chest and the fire that burned in them had begun to ease. The harder and longer she ran, the easier the pain in her heart felt too, melting away memories that clouded her mind.

As they jogged lightly to the front of the cottage, she slowed to a stop. Placing her hands on her knees, she bent over, tucking her head in. “I think I have another circuit in me.”

Torin laughed as he came to a stop too. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Irritation flashed through her quickly, then subsided. The rain had soaked them both, with tiny shards of ice and wind battering into their bodies, making it difficult for them to fully open their eyes. No creatures of the Fairland woods had bothered them in this kind of weather. Emara couldn’t help but wonder if they had been hiding from her.

“Torin, I need to run again. Just for another lap.” She left out a “please.”

“You’ve run for hours,” he said, and she watched as he moved towards her, his rain-soaked hair even darker. It slid down his forehead, and heavy droplets ran down into his thick lashes. A coldness spread over his face. “I am not just saying no to you because I want to. It’s for a reason, and as your trainer, you need to listen to me. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” His eyes trailed down her body to her legs. “I can see how tense your muscles are. You are one run away from hurting yourself. We have overworked you as it is. You’re not getting an injury on my watch.” He threw her a curved smirk that was as dangerous as the storm. “At least if it’s not even going to be worth it.”

Emara let out a small breath, knowing that all the visions of blood and burning flesh would return without the strenuous exercise. Without the endorphins of the run, she would feel that torture again. Without the rhythm of her pace and the sound of her pulse in her ears, she would hear those screams. Emara pursed her lips and crossed her arms over herself before turning back to the cottage without even looking to see if Torin Blacksteel was following her.

“One, two,” Torin coached Emara as she pounded her fists into the palm of his large hands. Magic blazed in Emara’s eyes as she swung, taking aim at Torin’s raised hands.

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