Page 4 of Hearts on Fire

“Dinner is in a half-hour,” he informed Mother. “The king expects all of you to join him in the Dining Hall.”

Unlike the women in the Sanctuary, it appeared the king took more than one meal a day since he had dinner.

Was a half-hour enough time to even catch my breath after hiking through the freezing mountains all day? It felt like I needed days just to melt the icy needles that seemed to have formed everywhere in my body. It felt as if my insides had turned into a solid icicle.

I also wished I could take a nap in a pile of warm blankets somewhere, so I could stand without swaying from exhaustion.

But we couldn’t possibly make the king wait. Mother promptly ushered us to follow the servant to a long, narrow room with stone perches lined up along the walls. There was a wide window at one end, closed with wooden shutters. A dark fireplace at the opposite wall had no fire. The air in the room was barely warmer than that outside.

“Get ready,” Mother ordered.

The women spread out through the room, taking apart the bundles of clothes and other belongings they’d brought with them. Some brushed and re-braided their hair. Others straightened their clothes. One of thesalamandrasfetched water from the kitchen, so we could at least freshen up a bit after the long hike.

I rinsed my face and hands. Having no hair to brush or braid, I just re-tied the linen cloth I wore on my head and adjusted the robe over my dress.

“Put your hoods on,” Mother said on her way out of the room. “And lower the lace over your faces, everyone.”

The women did as she told them.

“Why do we have to cover our faces?” I asked Zenada.

She shrugged. “The king’s orders.”

Another woman muttered, “Maybe he’s afraid of what he may find in our eyes, so he orders them hidden behind the lace.”

Zenada’s chest expanded with a sigh, but she said nothing in the king's defense this time, tightly pressing her lips together.

Mother led the women out of the room in a single line. I took my place at the end of the line and yanked the lace trim of my hood down and over my face, just like everyone else.

We went up a winding staircase inside a tower with tall windows on the same side at every level. The windows here had no glass and no shutters. I was glad I’d left all my clothes on. The cold mountain wind blew up and down the staircase unimpeded.

Following a wide hallway after that, we came to a set of double doors guarded by two men dressed in identical red and gold uniforms. They opened the doors for us, and we entered a long hall with a large table in the middle and a fireplace the size of a two-car garage to the side.

At least the fireplace was lit here. Thick logs burned inside. A metal rack was positioned over them, with several rods rotated by servants in uniforms. Large, juicy chunks of meat roasted on the rods. The men poured a fragrant sauce over the meat, ladling it from a black cauldron by the fire.

The appetizing aroma filled the king’s Dining Hall, making my mouth water. I didn’t even mind not getting any rest after the long journey to the castle if this meat was our prize at the end.

The women moved faster, obviously looking forward to the meal as much as I was. Only instead of heading to the main table in the middle, Mother took us to the wooden benches by the wall. Plain wooden tables stood in front of the benches. They were much narrower than the main one and set with plain metal plates and simple goblets for us.

“I guess we aren’t welcome at the table with the king,” I commented, sitting down on the bench next to Zenada.

Mother shot me a stern look. “Only the king’s men and lords of the court dine at the royal table.”

Since I wasn’t either, I had to be content with where I was placed. Not that I cared much, anyway. The royal court’s hierarchy meant little to me, as long as I still got some of that roasted meat.

The double doors opened again, and a group of men entered. I assumed they were musicians, judging by the instruments they carried. They spread along the entire perimeter of the room, taking places along the walls. Some opened their wings and flew up to hover under the domed ceiling.

When they started to play, it was impossible to tell which direction the beautiful music was coming from. It simply filled the room wall to wall and floor to ceiling, permeating the air with beauty.

A procession of uniformed guards entered next, followed by a man who announced the arrival of the king.

King Edkhar was a tall, broad-shouldered man. His bright red hair lay in curls over his shoulders. A well-groomed beard of the same color reached down to his chest. I recognized him as the king by a crown on his head and by the way he entered the room ahead of the lords that came with him.

The royal clothes screamed status and opulence. The king’s long scarlet coat was embroidered with gold and set with so many gemstones, it shone in the light of the fireplace. Gold and gemstones glistened in his beard and hair, too. A long crimson cape lined with white-and-black fur was draped over his shoulders, dragging on the stone floor behind him.

Zenada stared at the king in rapture. We all did. The man presented quite a sight, and he obviously expected attention.

The king strolled to the head of the table, where a massive stone-carved chair stood draped with red silk and furs—a seat fit for a king.

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