Page 25 of Chained to the Devil's Daughter

Grasping for reality, I blinked rapidly. Filaris’ concern gave way to annoyance, her tone suggesting I’d been lost in my fancies for some time.

“Sorry, Filly. Only thinking.”

“Yes, I know. Ever since the Ash Render arrived, you’ve been lost in thought.”

“I don’t think he appreciates that name,” I snapped, then exhaled so hard I raspberried. “Sorry, sorry. I know.”

For once, it hadn’t been Ash’ren on my mind, but I kept that to myself. The gryffion carriage carried us faster than a falling star toward my first official trip to the labor rings. The groundwork for my rule was built in throne rooms and noble houses—shout out to Inferna, Demon Lord of Rings Three and Four, and the others willing to let me in on the secret rebellion they’d been setting the foundation for forever—but now it was my time to shine. I wasn’t a well-polished bone of the Forgotten Ones. Wasn’t even a diamond.

Would my people accept me as the face of their new nation? I was a spoiled princess, daughter to the tyrant of theirholy texts. I couldn’t possibly ask for their blessing. I couldn’t possibly survive their rejection.

Filaris sighed. “It’s all right. I knew the risks of freeing him. You’re lucky I care for your soft heart so much.”

“So lucky.” I leaned forward, taking Filaris’ hand in my own. “Filly, I have loved every moment with you.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Technically, but still.” I wiggled her arm playfully, grinning at the reluctant affection on her features. “Even when you’re gone, I’ll always be your biggest fan.”

“Yes,” the older, wiser woman said as she flipped our hands to kiss my knuckles. “And I’ll always be your second biggest fan.”

We laughed, but the sound died quickly in my throat. I could easily imagine being with Ash every moment of every day, his broad shoulder to rest my head upon. Still, it was difficult to imagine not having Filaris’ steady advice in my ear.

Caught in my daydreams again, I barely recognized the words when Filaris informed me that the laborers had been evacuated to the eastern curves of each ring.

Due to the obvious nature of our plans, the nobles knew the Firefolk were being evacuated. However, it was best they didn’t discover the more brazen plans I would enact while addressing the laborers.

I came to once more when Filaris let out another long-enduring sigh.

“When I leave, you must follow the tradition.” Filaris was deathly serious now. “If you don’t take the fortnight to deliberate, you could lose the nobles for good.”

The skin of my lip chipped under my teeth. Filaris smoothed my mouth with her thumb, but I couldn’t meet her gaze. I wasn’t sure I could wait another three hours before announcing my courtship with Ash’ren, let alone a full fortnight.

The carriage driver shouted a command to the gryffions, and our ride slowed.

“Promise me, Searra,” my suitor begged. “Now.”

I opened my mouth to answer and choked on air. I coughed, but Filaris caught my shoulders and shook.

“Promise me!”

“I promise—” A knock on the door interrupted. Fara’s hand extended to help me down. I swallowed. I forced my gaze to Filaris’ and choked out the words—“to try.”

Descending the steps, I knew Filaris saw the guilt in my sad excuse for a smile. The disappointment in her wise yellow eyes seared into my soul.

I stepped out to a sea of dirty faces, and it was as though I’d stepped through my father’s portal. Nothing looked familiar.

Having spent my whole spoiled life in the inner rings, the dirt and grime of Ring Seven smelled worse than I’d expected. It didn’t take a stellar investigative instinct to note the half-buried bodies as the culprit of the stench. Burn marks marred hands protruding from the red sand, so full of blood it squished like clay.

I grasped my hands behind my back and stomped out the piece of my soul that wanted to drip tears over the wounds of every bedraggled citizen. They did not need another sob story written about their indentured lives. They needed a confident leader with a clear vision, though, in reality, everything was slipping from my fingers.

“Good people of Ring Seven,” I gestured to the carriage where Fuegis and Geysis were carrying out supplies. “Devil’s callous indifference has allowed the Firefolk to overrun your homes. We have come to guide them back into Fyre, where they can live wild and free, as we all deserve.”

“You’re going to get rid of Swiffer?” asked a small child from behind his mother’s legs, clutching a kitten with ears the size ofhis palm that were tipped with violet flames matching those on its tail.

Mews were feline creatures related to the great flaming gryffions. Docile and commonly considered domesticated, some nobles even kept them as house pets and complained when they acted like feral creatures. Despite all my attempts to trap the strays in my garden, I strongly believed no one could truly own a mew. The little critters often swarmed to the rings this time of year. Their typical habitats cooled while the rings, so far below ground level, retained more humidity.

I kneeled in front of the child. His bright red eyes and stubby horns reminded me so much of young Ash’ren that I couldn’t help glancing back at my lover. “What’s your name?”

---