Page 129 of A City of Flames

Defensive, I move nearer to my brothers, putting a barrier of protection as Erion’s gaze shifts to them and he hardly greets them before saying to me, “the queen has requested your presence… now.”

* * *

“Father—” Freya attempts her pleas, hoping in some way she can get me out of this.

“Freya, I suggest you get yourself ready for training.” His tone is impatient, and Idris starts forward when Freya walks up to my side, puffing her chest with stern confidence.

“No,” she says, and this time the general takes his eyes off me to look at her. A mixture of surprise and anger awash in his expression, differing from my effort to conceal a thankful smile. I do not deserve Freya’s friendship.

And I don’t want to get her in trouble for something that is all me.

Two venators, leaders, join the general, their faces symmetrical with no emotion. I turn and grip Freya’s arm to draw her attention to me. “It’s okay,” I whisper and level my eyes with hers. “Remember what I told you?”

She nods rapidly, biting her lower lip. “But Nara—”

“Just tell them if you must,” I whisper again and let go, looking at my brothers. My chest squeezes, watching confusion pummel both Iker and Illias’s faces while Idris’s eyes cling to me almost knowingly. Something is wrong and he can see it, he’s always been able to see it.

I clear the tightness from my throat and give a wan smile, promising to see them later.

Freya stares at me as I follow Erion out of the barracks. The two venators walk in front of me before the general latches a hand around my upper arm, his hold is tight and rough. We still continue our way to the castle as he grits out, “The keys… where do you have them?”

“I didn’t think to take them with me once I got out,” I lie and don’t look his way; my eyes remain on the flagstone pathway. “Why? Upset that you couldn’t turn me? Or upset that Darius is no longer someone you can mess with?”

His sneering laugh unnerves me, and his hold only tightens to the point of pain. “I’m far more curious as to why you are willing to risk yourself for a thief like him instead.”

I dart a glare at him, not realizing what I’m saying as I blurt out, “I’d do it all over again if it meant he’d be safe from you.”

My words startle me and Erion hums with triumph, dragging me as I start to slow down.

I let the warm air glide around me along with my memories of what there is beyond castle walls, the woods, the den, Darius… the peace I’d had in my mind last night before he left.

I want that again.

Though tension ramps up the further we walk and once we enter the castle gates, I barely even register the bronze crest of a dragon outside or how the moment with my brothers back at the barracks might be the last I ever see of them.

At a time like this, Ivarron’s words remain my source of strength: ignore it and prevail.

I always knew how dangerous this would be. And perhaps I should have thought of his words last night, but I wanted to speak to Lorcan, I wanted to see him because if there had been one shred of hope the general had lied, I needed to see it myself.

For that… I felt stupid to have believed Lorcan all this time.

I didn’t realize that we had made it to the throne room until the general releases me and my hazed mind clears away my thoughts. I lift my head toward the queen. Poised and seated on her throne, she swirls her goblet slowly. My eyes skip to the right of the grand hall where the general stands beside Lorcan.

He’s looking at me with regret and that only makes my gut twist at what I know. Ignore him and prevail.

“Naralía,” the queen says, and I shift my gaze to her as she stands, narrowing her eyes with a derisive smile. “For all these years I’ve seen trainees come and go, but you by far have been my greatest piece of entertainment.” Her gown slides down the steps of the dais in a golden river, alluring but still a menace to trap you. She hands her goblet to the lady in wait and tilts her head, eyeing me once, twice, then a third. “Such a shame you keep lying to me though. What would your father think?”

Her words are a spear straight to my chest, my heart, everything. What would he say? Would I still be in this position? Swallowing hard, I settle on what I’d hope for. “He’d be proud of me.”

Her eyes widen at my answer, and she scoffs. “Well, that’s surely different to what I once heard you say.”

That was before I knew everything.

“‘To honor my father’s legacy,’” she recalls and a crack forms inside my heart at how that’s what I’d wanted for so long. “Although in a way I suppose you are honoring his legacy.” Sarilyn’s crown gleams under the golden mirrored ceiling as she tilts her head to the side and takes on a pitiful look. “He just sadly never made it out alive.”

Anger flames my cheeks and I dare not look at the general or Lorcan. “So, is that your plan now? To kill me? Threaten me with my brothers again? Torture me?”

She tips her head back and her laugh rings against the walls at the last part. “I already did that with the thief, before you released him although I must say it became quite tedious unable to get any answers out of him. Not even when I mentioned you did he fess up.” She purses her lips in thoughtful mockery. “I suppose I was wrong to think he cared for you.”

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