Page 72 of A Kiss of Embers
He refused to remain in Attleglade for longer than necessary if he had a chance to flee.
“What did you do?” he asked when they finally pulled away from each other, though he didn’t miss Sylvain’s side-eyed glance in their direction as if he still might be unsure about the constraints of their relationship. “Why did I suddenly find myself the chief after nearly getting hanged?”
“After what happened to Emeric…” She lowered her gaze and squeezed his arm as if to offer reassurance in whatever way she could. “The villagers and patrol were outraged. And ashamed they allowed it to happen. I think it was a wake-up call. If the councilmen were willing to kill their chief and the heir, what would happen to them? To their children?” She nodded toward the others in her group, engaged in hushed conversations of their own. “Everyone thinks it’s time for a change in leadership.”
Bastien ran his hands down his face. “I can’t stay here. I hate it here. Attleglade only holds chains and terrible memories.”
“I know.” She squeezed his arm again. “I didn’t mean you. I know you can’t do this job.”
“Then who will?”
A secretive smile lifted her lips as she gazed back at him with a raised brow. He knew that mischievous look by heart because it always meant they soon after got into a great deal of trouble together.
“Not you.” He scrutinized her, briefly wondering if he’d hit his head during his leap across the ravine.
“Yes, me.”
“But you’re…” He shrugged, not knowing how to form his words. Ashryn was his friend. His partner in mischief. He knew her inside and out. But she loved the people of Attleglade. And…well, perhaps she was the perfect candidate for this job.
“My mother used to be of noble Forest Fae blood before…” She lowered her gaze and frowned, not finishing her sentence, as her family history looked a lot like his own. “Between Sylvain and I, we will bridge the gap between Attleglade and Albrasia.”
He raised an eyebrow. “With a…marriage?”
Surprisingly, her cheeks pinked, and he almost found himself gaping at the sight. Ashryn blushing? Sylvain must have quite the hold on her.
She nodded. “For allegiance purposes and whatnot.”
He seriously doubted that was all it was. “That woodpecker better ask for my permission first.”
“Go easy on him.”
“Never. You deserve only the best.”
Her mouth twitched as if holding back a smile. “Go on. Be the chief for just one day. This punishment is yours.” She nodded her head toward the councilmen clustered in the cell. “I suggest you act sooner rather than later while the volcano is still hot.”
Fury boiled in his blood again, and lest he strike his spear through the tyrant’s heart, he turned around and avoided glancing their way at all. “Bring them all outside to the firing tree. I’ll deal with Sir Crankiness first.”
He marched outside toward the tree, and as if feeling the tension in the air, the villagers followed, murmuring amongst themselves. The Ember Fae followed farther behind, two men supporting Seraphina between them.
His anger simmered to jealousy when he glanced between the two men. Were they both the concubines she’d chosen? Who were they? How did she know them?
A matter for another time,he reminded himself and turned his attention away.
The councilmen were lined up in front of the tree, leaving a larger space in the middle for Cranky Cricket.
“You can’t do this!” the older man snarled, his knee creaking as he took a single step forward. “I am the new chief. Not you. You will be tortured and hanged for this. Guards! Arrest him!”
No one moved to follow orders. Not this time.
“Seize him!” the man shrieked, a wildness in his eyes. The ropes binding his arms behind his back pulled against his movements as if he were trying to free himself.
Nothing.
Ashryn stepped forward and handed Bastien the bow Seraphina had taken from him what seemed like ages ago. He strapped a quiver to his back filled with six arrows. He pulled a single arrow out. Because all he needed was one.
A deadly silence descended upon the forest as Bastien nocked the arrow and lifted his bow. His arm screamed in agony at the motion, but he pushed the pain back and focused on the present. The weapon was like an extension of his body. Well-practiced and unfailable. He never missed his target, and he didn’t plan on doing so now.
Like himself, it was as if everyone held their breath, not daring to make a sound as they waited for his judgment. He felt Seraphina’s gaze on him, but he didn’t turn to look at her. He needed to focus. Otherwise, he might miss. Probably not, but it was possible.
