Page 31 of Embers to Flames

“Never better,” I reply evenly but without conviction.

The clinking sound of silver against crystal penetrates the thick quietness as King Varitan rises from his throne. The murmurs cease instantly, replaced by an expectant hush. His deep-set eyes rake over his courtiers before finally resting on me in subtle acknowledgment.

“They say, every half-century, we must remember who we are, why we are here… why we continue to persist.” His voice, echoing through the vast archways of the hall, is filled with a resounding authority that commands attention.

“Our history tells us stories of fire and ice, of love and loss, of great triumphs and greater sacrifices,” he pauses for effect, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling on me. “The Fire Rites remind us of our journey from the ashes to this hallowed throne. It is a testament to our will, a testament to our power... our right to exist.”

The King’s voice carries on, “We gather to celebrate life, love, and unity. We remember the sacrifices made by those before us so that we may live in peace. Every fifty years, the High Lords of Quillyan gather for an age-old ceremony entwined with destiny and hope. For when the Gods shouldallow, a chosen one will be revealed, a beacon of light that will guide us into an era of peace and prosperity for our kingdom.”

He pauses momentarily, taking a long-lasting gaze in my direction, “Our lands have seen strife. Strife between our own kind and our Human neighbors. But today I stand before you with renewed hope. With the grace of the Gods, I plead with you all to beg them for the revelation of our sovereign chosen one this half-century so that we may mend what has been severed and forge new bonds with not only our own kin but with the Humans as well.” His voice is resonant with sincerity, every syllable steeped in conviction.

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause at the King’s impassioned speech. Around me, the sea of Elves clap their slender hands together in an appreciative rhythm. The celebration quickly transitions into a grand feast. The room itself pulsates with life and vigor.

I devour the feast with unbridled enthusiasm, each mouthful a revelation of flavors I’ve never experienced. Theo catches my eye, his lips quirked in amusement.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

I nod, swallowing a bite of something delightfully sweet. “As always, the Elves outdo themselves,” I say, my tone light. “I’m just happy I get to finally eat some of it instead of just serving it.”

Theo chuckles. “You know us too well; we do have our moments.”

I smirk, setting down my fork. “Moments? More like every other day. Elves are spoiled.”

“Guilty as charged,” he replies with a wink. “But don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. Theo’s gaze lingers on me, warm and affectionate, sending a flutter through my chest that has nothing to do with the feast.

As if on cue, the musicians begin their symphony of strings and flutes, their melody reverberating in the grand hall. My heart beats in time with each note, a steady rhythm that escalates as Theo extends his hand towards me for another dance.

The hours slip by unnoticed as we continue to sway under a sky painted with stars. His hands never leave my waist, his eyes never stray from mine. The warmth between us seems to stretch out, filling the air with a potent mixture of desire and understanding.

We dance as one until dawn breaks, leaving my legs trembling as we walk in silence—but a comfortable one—back to my chambers. Outside my room, he turns to me, his gaze intense. Slowly, he leans in until he finally places a soft kiss on my lips, gentle yet passionate, full of longing and promise. My heart beats erratically against my ribcage as I wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss. His taste is intoxicating—a mix of sweet wine and something uniquely him.

We pull apart to catch our breaths, I feel an overwhelming urge to invite him in—to taste him again and surrender myself completely. But fatigue washes over me—relentless andoverpowering. Despite my physical desire for him, I am too tired to do anything more than bid him goodnight.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Theo. Your company has brought me great comfort.”

A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he meets my gaze with a hint of longing. “The pleasure was all mine, my lady. I would gladly dance with you through the night once more, if given the chance,” he declares, his voice filled with sincerity.

I feel a surge of emotions welling up inside me, a mix of desire and affection that I struggle to contain. “Perhaps we shall have another opportunity to dance under the stars,” I muse, a soft smile playing on my lips.

Theo’s eyes light up with hope as he nods in agreement. “I look forward to that moment, my sweet lady. Until then, may your dreams be as enchanting as you have been tonight.” I watch as his silhouette fades into the shadows of the castle hallway.

Alone in my chambers, I sink into the plush cushions of my bed, replaying the evenings events in my mind. The taste of Theo’s mouth lingers on my lips, igniting a fire within me that refuses to be extinguished. Sleep slowly claims me, and I drift into dreams filled with starlit dances and whispered promises.

Chapter Fourteen

In the morning, the memory of our tender kiss is still fresh in my mind—it plays out in vivid detail. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his touch, and the intensity of his gaze. It’s enough to set my heart aflutter. My mind flows back to the night when he pushed me over the edge of ecstasy. His mouth on me—like that. It was… exhilarating. How did he do that?

Why did I let him do that?

I rise from the plush bed; my reflection greets me from the tall mirror across the room. There’s a new vitality glinting in my eyes—one that wasn’t there before. One I hadn’t seen in a very long time. A soft smile tugs at my lips at the merethought of Theo and his lips, his touch, his soft-spoken words that made me feel as cherished as an ancient relic.

A gentle knocking on the door brings me out of my reverie. Surprised, I hurry to the door and open it to find a palace servant—human—standing there. Her gaze skims over my rumpled attire and rosy cheeks. In her hands, she holds a tray carrying a steaming cup of coffee and some freshly baked bread.

“Breakfast, Milady,” she says politely, curtsying before stepping aside for me to take the tray.

“Thank you,” I reply softly, careful not to meet her keen gaze. As she walks away, I close the door and place the tray on a small table near the window.

---