Page 68 of A Wrecking of Salt and Fire

But now she paced back and forth in front of his door holding a piece of parchment. An urgent piece of parchment at that—given to her by Ajax that morning. An attack was imminent, and a defense strategy had to be set up. Yes, Ember could rely on the senators of the Spartanis to make these decisions, but something told her if she did, she would get an earful from the Viper whenever he dared to leave this room.

Ember sucked in a tight breath and knocked on the door three times. She should not be this nervous. It was her home, and she was Prytan now. But no matter the place or title, King Athanas would always frighten her, if just a little bit.

“You may come in, Princess, I can hear your timid breathing through the door.”

Gods, he was the worst human. Ember wished he would just pack up and go back to Morentius, where he could live with the other scary soldiers and their sharpened canines and viper venom-soaked weapons.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” Ember bowed as she entered the room—she was a lady after all, and had been taught the graces of one. Had once only been taught that not too long ago. “There is a missive from our spies in Xanthia. Nexian ships have been seen gathering in the northern part of the Mykandrian Sea. They are worried that King Nikolaos is trying to extend his blockade farther west.”

Ember tried not to get too close to the Viper, who sat on his plush velvet pillows, teeth biting deep into some piece of fruit, a drop of its red juice sliding from his lip like blood. She swallowed and forced the bile that rose in her throat back down. It would not surprise her if this man did suck the blood of others, like those spineless creatures in the dungeons of Aidesian.

“Give me that,” King Athanas hissed, pointing his long finger at the roll of parchment Ember held. “And who exactly gave you permission to read such a missive, Princess?”

Ember clenched her jaw, her amber eyes narrowing. It would not matter if she now wore the royal leathers of the Spartanis, the Viper would always refer to her as a princess. He was a complete power hungry ass.

“Well, Your Highness, as the newly inducted Prytan, I have become privy to any and all reports of threat. You will not forget that these do come from the spies of my soldiers, not yours.” Ember let out a long hiss of a breath. Every time she spoke back to King Athanas it became just a little bit easier.

“Well until my son, your king, returns, I am still regent and I still hold the highest authority on these matters. I would like any report sent directly to me. Unopened.”

Power hungry ass, indeed.

“Of course, Your Highness. The senators had hoped to meet and discuss options regarding the details the spies have outlined. Should I set a time for us to meet?”

“You can send them to my chambers, no need to join as you seem to already know everything in the letter. Hurry along now. I am sure there are plenty of better things you could be doing, like planning the dinner for my family this evening. That is the kind of thing a girl your age should be in charge of. Not the matters of men.”

Ember muttered something vulgar under her breath, glad the king did not seem to notice. “I’ll make sure we have something planned.” She wondered what the Queen of Morentius would be like, to have agreed to marry such a vile man. She must be just as vapid and cold as the Viper. Although Kohl was kind most of the time really—for a time at least. Maybe that was a trait he had passed down from his mother. Maybe she was forced to marry this wretched man.

“Oh, and Ember? Make sure my daughter is seated next to the commander. She has a thing for the brooding blondes.” The king cackled, knowing he had hit a nerve. He had seen the way Ajax looked at her, how she had looked back. This feeling of longing and forbidden lust or love or something.

“Of course, Your Highness.” How many times would she have to repeat those words until Kohl returned with her sister

Ember hoped this princess was ugly. That her voice sounded wretched and her personality just as awful. She doubted it though. The looks at least. Kohl was objectively one of the most handsome men she knew, even the Viper was an extremely good looking older man if you could get past his personality. Ember sighed, exiting the guest chambers. She was screwed.

Farah Athanas was anything but ugly. The princess arrived with her mother around midday. Her flowing dark brown hair cascaded to the small of her back, half pinned up in waves with tiny gold clips. The richness of her russet color skin looked like it would never age, and made her golden eyes stand out even more. Ember had always loved the way her eyes glowed like the sun, but next to Farah’s they looked as muted as dried up mud.

The way she spoke was entrancing, a piercing song to the mind and heart. Even Ember, who had no inkling of feelings toward other women, was captivated by it. Men would fall to their knees for this woman. She just hoped one in particular would not.

Yet there he was, bowing in front of her, kissing her small outstretched hand, gaze tracing over every voluptuous curve her silky gown clung to. In this moment, Ember wished Ajax was more like the stiff and unfriendly soldiers and not such a gentleman. She could hear Farah’s light giggle down the hallway as she spoke to each of the young guards in front of her. Ember stomped toward them, maybe a bit too aggressively for someone who was supposed to be a composed and dignified member of leadership.

“Princess, a pleasure to meet you.” Ember did not know why she deepened her voice just a bit at the address.

Farah threw her arms around Ember, taking her into a warm embrace. “You must be the sister! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Her voice was light and welcoming, a stark contrast to her father. “Kohl has told me so much about you.”

Ember tried to force out a smile. Ajax snickered to her side, and she shot him a narrow glare. “Has he?” she drawled. Kohl was still on Ember’s shit list. Until he brought her sister home, she could only see him as the man who had almost killed her.

“Yes, of course. He speaks very highly of you.”

“I’m sure.”

“And I hear congratulations are in order! You had a highly respected title thrust upon you recently. One that he believed was well deserved, even if my father thought otherwise.” She rolled her eyes when mentioning her father.

Ember could not tell if she was actually nice or if she was just well-versed in politics and blowing smoke up other people’s asses.

“Yes, well your father is not a fan of most people. Is your mother with you? King Athanas said to expect you both.”

Farah’s smile disappeared as she pretended to pick a piece of lint off her silken red gown. Ember had not noticed from a distance, but the gown had an intricate design stitched with a golden thread that made the whole thing shimmer.

“She’s probably still at the ship bossing some poor men around to help her bring her trunks to the castle. I swear my mother brought every piece of clothing she owns. I know father didn’t tell us how long we would be here for, but if you ask me it was a bit excessive.”

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