Page 94 of Spark of the Everflame

A guard yanked the bag from my shoulder and slashed the bottom with his blade. Jars of tinctures and powders tumbled out and shattered as they collided with the stone floor. Strips of gauze floated into the mess, instantly ruined. The wastefulness of it all made me cringe.

“What are these, poisons?” a guard spat as he toed the spilled powder.

“Medicines,” I said.

“Prove it.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“That’s your problem, mortal.”

“Fine. Take a spoonful of each of them. If you’re dead tomorrow, come find me and arrest me.”

The guard wrenched my arm until my shoulder pulled unnaturally at the joint. My body jerked in reflex, and beneath the knife at my throat, I felt a sharp sting and a trickle of warm droplets sliding down my chest. I gritted my teeth, a miserable part of me welcoming the pain.

I’d let them all down. I’d been so prideful, so cocky to think I could do this and get away with it.

Even thevoice, my ever-present companion any time I was provoked, was curiously absent. I waited for it to slither out from whatever dark corner it dwelled in and urge to me tofight, todestroy, but it didn’t even stir.

I closed my eyes and pressed my face to the cold wall.

Failure. A naive, spectacular failure.

A familiar cadence of footsteps sounded in the hallway. The guards—the ones who didn’t have me rammed against a wall—stiffened. Their fists raised to their chest in salute.

“Your Highness, we found her spying in the hallways.”

“Liar,” I mumbled.

The guard leaned his bent elbow into my spine, and an involuntary cry of pain escaped my lips.

Maura pleaded in a trembling voice. “Your Highness, it was an honest mistake. She’s new to the palace, she doesn’t yet understand the rules. I beg of you, show her mercy.”

A long pause followed, broken only by Maura’s sniffles.

“Release her,” Luther growled.

The guard hesitated. The knife moved away from my throat, but my body remained pinned in place.

“Your Highness, she—”

“I saidrelease her.”

The guard freed his grip on my arms and gave me a final shove as he stepped away. I couldn’t even muster a scowl as I shook out my limbs and rubbed my tender shoulder.

There were so, so many things I would rather have done in that moment than look at Luther. Feed myself to the gryvern. Crawl on my bare hands and knees over the shattered remains of my glass jars.

Slowly, reluctantly, I turned to face him.

Oh, the Prince waspissed.

I’d only seen the barest traces of emotion in him before. Worry, when his sister had collapsed. Satisfaction, when his cousin had chastised me on my last visit. Annoyance, when... well, pretty much any time I was around.

But his face now was unfiltered fury. His already severe features had hardened into unyielding steel, his blue eyes glittering with malice. The presence around him was an aura of crackling fire that heated my skin in a very different way from how I’d felt with his hands roaming my thighs.

I swallowed.

“What happened?” he barked.

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