Page 31 of Shrine of Fire

“Lead the way.” I was still dressed for the ball, so there wasn’t a need to change.

I followed her down long corridors, flights of stairs, and up around winding passageways. The inside of the palace was a maze, designed to keep subjects on their toes. Nikki and I’d spent much of our childhood wandering through secret corridors, but I wasn’t dumb enough to think we’d found them all.

We finally came to the Golden Hallway, so named because the floor tiles, walls, and ceiling were layer upon layers of inlaid gold. The intricate lattice design crossed over itself until you lost track of which link connected to which. It was said to represent the eternal line of the Ember Throne, but it always felt like a reminder that there was no escape. The Palace was nothing more than a golden cage, and I was another pawn thinking I had the upper hand.

Mei knocked once.

After two minutes of no sound at all, my father’s voice came from within. “Enter.”

Mei opened the door and stepped inside. “His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Stefan, to see you, Your Majesty.”

Father sat at the head of a long golden table. Piles of papers scattered around him, along with colorful maps.

Without bothering to look up, he raised his hand in dismissal. “That will be all, Mei.”

I stepped inside, and Mei shut the door behind me.

Father looked up and frowned. “You did not bother to change out of your sweaty clothes?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again. It was stupid he could still catch me off guard. But here I was, a grown man and still unable to predict his next move.

“I expected to take you away from your new fiancé’s chamber.” Father’s voice was cold enough to freeze our tropical islands. “Have you not bedded her yet?”

My face flushed, and I shifted my weight. “I sleep in my own chambers, as is the custom. It would not look well on you if I broke tradition.”

Father sat back in his seat. It raised him above the rest of the table, so that even when he sat here planning with his generals and advisors, they would know who he was. “That is not the question I asked. You will bond her, and quickly, before she finds a way to break the marriage contract.”

“She has no intention—"

“Of course she does,” Father sneered. “Your omega whore thinks she’s outmaneuvered me.”

My breath stopped. “Don’t call her that.”

“What?”

“My bride. Do not call her names.” My stomach flipped, but this time it was rage. The rage at these pointless games, the tireless fury at what our kingdom could be if only Father didn’t insist we all play his games.

“You don’t tell your king what to do.” His face was a hard mask.

I almost considered telling him getting into the habit of calling the future queen a whore wasn’t a good idea, but that was cowardice.

“She is to be my wife—"

“At my grace,” Father said, eyes narrowed. “If I so choose, I will replace her with someone more biddable.”

“You will not.” I crammed every last shred of fear of what would happen to me for such blatant defiance into a box. The last time I’d refused my father this directly, he’d had me whipped and starved for a week.

“We have already announced the union. We have planned the Engagement Tour.” I gestured at the table spread with maps. “Even now you plan which resources we will bring into the glory of the Ember Kingdom with this union.”

Father remained still. Unmoving.

“We will not find another replacement more prestigious than one of the two omegas who helped save the world. The other omega is mated to your elder son.” I paused. “We will respect your wishes, my king, and make our great country a jewel in the world. But you will not speak of the future queen of the Ember Kingdom with such foul language.”

I stopped talking. A light sweat had broken out over my body; my fingertips were numb. Any thought of letting Father know about the spirit attempting to break free was well and truly gone. He wouldn’t help us. He would actively hinder us, simply out of spite.

“Of course, my son. I’ve taught you well.” Father broke into a pleasant smile. “My apologies for speaking of my future daughter-in-law in such vulgar terms.”

I hesitated, not sure if I was supposed to “accept” the apology or not. I trusted this smile even less than I trusted my father’s silence.

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