Page 95 of An Empress of Fire & Steel

The Supreme’s eyebrow lifted, and Emara presumed that it was in shock at Torin stepping in to speak. “She is not a new witch; she has been a witch since she was born.” Her eyes ran over Torin, and then to Emara.

Emara noticed the others shifting uncomfortably.

“I hear you have quite the temper when provoked.” Deleine Orinmore tapped a foot against the marble floor, and a terrible feeling devoured Emara from the inside out. Torin shifted beside her as if sensing it. But the Supreme continued, “Even though you are set in destiny to ascend as the Empress of Air, a little birdy told me rumours have come from the Uplift that. Rumours that you have a strength in the gift of fire, and it came to you in your time of need, strong and powerful, like the Gods had willed it themselves.” Something serious flashed in her eyes, making Emara’s lungs squeeze. “Should I know of any claims that you may have to the House of Fire?”

She could feel the stare from Rya’s darkened eyes on her face, all of them looking upon her, awaiting her response.

“I don’t,” she choked out. “I have no claims to the fire crown. I only used fire magic at the Uplift because I knew it would protect me.”

That was a lie. Fire had come to her fingertips as naturally as air had. But the lie hadn’t sounded like one as it floated through the room to where the Queen of the Witches nodded in response.

Torin admitted, “She is an untrained witch, and only used fire to protect herself from a threat that had worked with the Dark Army. As you know, it was vital for her to use what she could at that time. A member of the elite faction had provoked her, and, in her temper, fire emerged instead of air. It was a natural reaction to her distress at the time. I have witnessed her talent in air, and I, as well as my mother—Naya Blacksteel, Commanding wife of Viktir Blacksteel, and healer of House Earth—can confirm that her dominant power is air.”

So Torin would lie for her too. He knew that when he had provoked her in training, air had whizzed around them like a tornado, but he had seen the flames of her wrath too, and had questioned them on their trip here. As a little murmur found its way through the silence, Emara found Torin’s gaze, and she hoped he could see the thankfulness in her eyes.

The Supreme spoke with a smile. “That’s quite all right. We know how it feels for our magic to seem untrained, especially in times of fear.”

“How can I be sure that she will not come for my crown of fire?” Rya Otterburn’s loud voice boomed through the room, and everyone turned to face her. “If what you say of her power in fire magic is true, how can we be sure that she will not exceed my magic for the crown and title?”

Emara swallowed, and as Torin tensed, about to jump to her defence, she got in there first. “Because I have no interest in taking your crown, Rya. I think it’s best I should turn my focus to my own, and learn how to handle that before worrying about any other crown.”

Rya gave off a look that told Emara that she wasn’t sold, but what Emara had said was the truth, and she held her gaze boldly, unwilling to back down. She wasn’t interested in two elemental crowns. She was barely getting to grips with one.

“That sounds like a clever plan indeed, Emara Clearwater.” Deleine’s shoulders relaxed, and it seemed to elongate her neck.

Emara nodded graciously at her acceptance. “I promise to dedicate everything I can to learning how to control whatever Rhiannon has willed me to have. But air is where my focus and heart lies. I am not interested in anything else. My grandmother was Theodora Clearwater of House Air, and my intentions are to make her proud as I serve the House of my bloodline.”

Torin finally nodded beside her, and Emara took a breath. She had said the right thing.

“Perhaps if you reach out to the girls of each element, they will help you work on controlling your magic.” Deleine glided like a swan, across the glassy backdrop of the night, moving towards where Emara stood. “It is interesting, though; you are not what I had imagined. Your mother was a petite woman, from what I remember. Sereia…very delicate.”

Emara’s heart stopped at the mention of her mother’s name.

“But you…” The Supreme stood like a Goddess clad in gold. “You’re not so small, are you?”

Something punched so hard into Emara’s gut that she wished it had been her face to receive the blow. It would have been easier to handle. A burning in her blood made her want to lash out, but she tugged on the leash that was hanging onto her self-control by a thread.

“You are larger than I thought you would be.” Deleine smiled like she hadn’t just cut an insult across Emara’s heart. “When I heard of the girl who had risen like a phoenix from the ashes of her mother’s death, I certainly didn’t picture you.”

A treacherous silence came from the other empresses in the room, like they were afraid to even look in the direction of where the Supreme stood, face to face with the heir of Air.

“I didn’t know my mother,” Emara exclaimed, trying to keep her hands at her sides. But her nails dug a grave in her skin. “But as you’ve gathered, I am not so delicate.”

“That’s good.” The Supreme nodded, a twinkle in her eyes. “We don’t need any more delicate witches. They haven’t fared too well recently.”

A dangerous snarl came from Torin’s throat, and it had her gaze lifting to look at him.

A dirty laugh cut from Deleine’s throat. “Torin Blacksteel.” She smiled, and a flame lit in her eyes, her voice light. “I have heard you can be a very disobedient little hunter. Rumour has it that you like to bite. You are a Warrior of Thorin, and it shows.” Her eyes roamed over his body and face as the compliment of his physique settled in the air. “Maybe if you were a little better behaved, we could have gotten to know each other.” The beading of her gold gown made a scratching sound as it traced the floor, and she stopped just before him. “That could have been a match made for the Gods. Powerful.” She raised her hand and flames in the shapes of two arrows crossed over a sword, danced in her palm, then formed the shape of his crest before snuffing out.

He smiled at her, and it was a smile so dreadful that Emara barely recognised him. “I don’t like being obedient.”

She giggled. “Neither do I. Maybe we have that in common, you and I.” She seemed to enjoy seeing the feral beast that lay underneath his guard exterior. “Maybe I wouldn’t want you to behave after all, Torin, of Clan Blacksteel.” The tip of her tongue reached the roof of her mouth as a seductive smile tightened the small wrinkles around her lips. “I have heard about the relentless destruction you cause in the wake of a battle, and I am always in need of a new ally. Perhaps I should put my offer in writing to your commander to see us bonded. After all, two strengths can only make a unit stronger.”

Emara’s heart burned in a way that she didn’t understand.

“Thank you for your offer.” He paused as he let a wickedness darken in his gaze. “But I am afraid I will have to pass. I am already in ties with someone of a much younger age than yourself. I believe she is suited to me in ways that you are not. Like you said before, she is not so delicate, and I think that is marvellous.”

Emara heard everyone suck in a gasp at Torin taking a jab at the Supreme’s age.

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