Page 71 of Shade of Ruin

The smile fades and he rolls onto his back, turning to look up at the ceiling. “My father was right, Maeve. Anyone who wields flames gets burned, just like anyone who wields shadows loses a part of themselves. You cannot wield magic without suffering from it. The dragons wove it into the powers we all wield.”

He holds up his hand in front of me, and it blazes to life. Red flames lick the air around it, and I see what he’s trying to show me. The little tendrils of smoke that rise through the flames. Fire doesn’t create smoke without something to burn. Not even a magical fire. It’s singing his skin.

“It doesn’t hurt very much,” he says. “Just little pinprick burns.” The fire’s snuffed out, and he holds his hand so that I can see the back of it. Tiny blisters appear and then fade before my eyes, leaving his skin unmarred.

“I can’t feel that pain through the betrothal bond,” I say.

He shrugs. “Pain is something that the House of Flames learns to accept. We are built for it. Even as bad as last night was, I… I’ve suffered worse. Far worse. And Maeve,” his voice falters for a moment as he looks at the blanket in front of him. “My father is more powerful than me, but I would kill him if he touched you. He knows that, and he knows that if he killed me, he’d die almost immediately because the King of Steel isn’t afraid of him at all. King Gethin would sweep in and destroy the House of Flames without a second thought, keeping the Painted Crown for himself forever.”

He's telling me I’m safe, but he doesn’t say the same about himself. His father may not be willing to kill him, but he’s obviously not afraid to torture him. “Why would you do that for me, though? Is it the betrothal bond?”

Cole frowns, and it’s like he has to move, like he can’t just sit here having a conversation. Remembering the feelings that had flooded my body when we’d done the betrothal ritual, it makes sense. He rolls out of bed wearing nothing but the pants he went to sleep in last night. He moves quickly, almost erratically, like he’s so excited he can’t stop himself, and he paces. “Because I can’t let you get hurt, Maeve.”

That’s all. No explanation at all. I blink. We’d been having a moment. Now, it feels like we’re right back to where we were before. Anger builds inside me at all the secrets, and I can feel the little buzz of that lightning inside me beginning.

My hands ball in the blanket, and Cole turns to face me. A sly grin crosses his face, and he gets onto his hands and knees, crawling toward me. He’s not at all worried about the fact that I’m naked under this blanket.

“You know,” he says, “we don’t have anything we need to do right now. Everyone here expects us to beenjoyingour betrothal.”

I blink at him, and finally the blush comes over me. Maybe he realized I was naked. “Cole, I don’t know if…”

He laughs. The flames flicker around him, appearing in midair and then fading instantly. “I meant that we get to rest, Maeve. We can do whatever you want, at least for a few days. There’s nothing pressing, and other than some training, the world is your oyster. So what would you enjoy spending your days doing?”

Now that’s a strange thought. Days with nothing to do. Lazy days with Cole in Draenyth.

We’ve done everything that has to be done. We’ve survived the dangers of the road and of Draenyth. I know I should try to figure out how to talk to Calyr, but after the stress of last night and the past few days, I just feel so exhausted. Like every bit of energy is gone, and while I probably could work on findinga way to talk to Calyr, the thought of it makes me cringe with exhaustion.

I look into those sparkling blue eyes, which are surprisingly happy, and I give him a wide smile. “I don’t know, Prince Cole. After weeks of walking, it might be nice to enjoy feeling like the girl that’s betrothed to an Immortal prince. Do you know how to pamper a girl?”

“Do I know how to pamper a girl? Yes, Maeve, I can show you what it’s like to be my princess.”

Chapter 32

Power is having a choice. Strength can crush or build. Sharpened steel can cut flesh or prepare food. Power is having a choice, and goodness is choosing

what is best for the most. Not what is most obvious.

~Sidon the Strong, A History of Magic and Dragons

This isn’t what I’dexpected when I’d asked Cole to pamper me. He told me that he’d treat me like a princess, and I guess that this is the definition of that in Draenyth. A small Immortal from a race I don’t know stands beside me. Lithe, and built like a willow sapling, she’s thin with silver hair that hangs down to the middle of her back, unbound and unbraided.

Her face is human shaped, though longer than normal. Her eyes are a little rounder and seem to sense more than theaverage person, as every time I have an emotion, she turns to me. Her skin is as pale as moonlight, and long, thin blue veins line her body.

Her movements are erratic and sharp, like a bird rather than a person. You’d think that all of that would be the pieces of the female Immortal that I’d be focused on. All of the non-human traits. But it’s not. No, the part of her appearance that I can’t get over is the steel collar that rings her thin neck.

Everything else she’s wearing seems normal enough. Thin, tight-fitting clothes that are made of blue cloth and sewn with silver thread. She’s shoeless with long feet that match her long fingers.

“Good morning, Sia,” Cole says with a soft smile. He’s wearing a nice white silk shirt with a fiery red vest with gold buttons that glitters in the candle lights of the bedroom. Going without a coat today, he seems almost relaxed, almost at home here.

Sia looks to him more often than she does to me, which I assume is normal. He is the Prince, after all. Just like Nevan, Sia doesn’t seem to have any kind of ill-will toward Cole. In fact, it almost seems like she enjoys his presence.

That silver collar draws my attention as she moves. The physical item that lets the High Fae enslave other Immortals. When wearing a steel collar, because of its positioning, no magic works. That keeps most Immortals from ever even dreaming of escaping their slavery. It’s forever, and there isn’t any way out of it.

“Let me get you out of that collar,” Cole says, and when he puts his hand on the back of the seamless steel ring around her neck, a click sounds. The ring splits in two, and before they fall to Sia’s shoulders, Cole catches them.

“My betrothed, Maeve Arden, would like to relax. Is there any way you could help me with that?” he asks her.

Sia smiles wider, and I hear a voice in my head rather than a sound.Good morning, Lady Maeve. What would you like to experience?What would I like to experience?I don’t understand. Instead of feeling relaxed, I’m feeling very stressed by an Immortal talking in my head.

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