Page 23 of A City of Flames

My hand grabs a double-edged blade, so scalding to the touch that any sane person would drop it. I don’t as I divert my sight to the practice dummies ahead—the warmth of spring in Emberwell bats against my eyelids as I close them.

Inhaling with all my strength, I envision the target and parting my feet, I open my eyes, flinging the dagger. I go again, each time faster and stealthier, getting lost in the way it doesn’t once miss the center.

Focusing ahead, I reach for another dagger but find I’ve used them all. My shoulders droop with a sigh, but too fast, I sense a presence around, causing me to turn. My gaze immediately fixates on a round pendant of pure gold with what looks to be three rivers intertwining over a compass—one down the middle, another across, and the last diagonal.

Realizing the pendant rests on that glowing mahogany skin, I lift my eyes to meet the queen’s. Her lips are painted with a sheer gloss and her facial features are so sharp yet so soft.

I’ve always been told how delicate my face is, with my button nose, freckles and that if I smile, I smile with my cheeks. But beyond it all, I am a torrent of winds. Somehow the queen is all of that.

“What’s your name?” She asks. Her eyes, almost obsidian, and voice radiating that same grace while her lady in wait stares at me.

I consider imagining what I told Freya to do when nervous. This was the first time I’d ever witnessed the queen in the flesh and not through word of mouth. Now she is here asking me a simple question. Thankfully, I’m used to hiding my nerves well. “Naralía,” I answer, drawing in a breath as I add, “Ambrose.”

Alert yet with unimaginable poise, she tilts her head. “Ambrose?” She looks towards the general, parting her lips like waves of shock have gone through her. “You are Nathaniel’s daughter?”

A nod towards her as eyes slide to my face, and my gaze finds Lorcan’s on me like it always is.

“The Deputy saw to it that she joined us sooner than admissions after helping us capture the Ardenti,” The general says from behind the queen’s shoulder. He doesn’t even try to feign the begrudging tone in his words. One might say he hates me more now than the first day of training.

“Well, Erion, it’s not as if you didn’t do the same with Deputy Halen twelve years ago.” The queen swings her head in the general’s direction, a speck of humor in her voice that does not bide well with him as he turns stiff. “But an Ardenti?” She glances back at me, the humor now settling into wonder. “Remarkable for someone who’s never trained before.”

I try not to wince at that. Knowing I’d helped was one thing, but everyone seemed to speak of it as if I’d killed the dragon. I hadn’t touched it, not even used any form of weapon, yet it yielded at my feet. “I just want to carry out my dad’s legacy, your majesty.” I curtsy instead, and my eyes slit in response to the general’s maliced gaze as I send him a look that says, I will endeavor to be what my father once was.

“We should head for that meeting, Sarilyn.” He glowers.

“Yes,” the queen says slowly. “Let’s.” Not once does she take her eyes off me. “I trust I will see you at the arena fight next week, Naralía?”

“Of course.” I bow once more as she turns to walk off with her venators and the general.

Her gown thrashes against the grass as Lorcan passes by, hands behind him as he whispers, “You seem to catch everyone’s attention.”

I angle my head up at him. “Well then, I hope I don’t distract the queen, either.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “I’d sure hope not, Nara.”

My mouth parts but right when I want to say something, he’s already following after the queen.

A frown then stiffens my expression, seeing Adriel and Oran opposite me. Their stares hold nothing friendly as they pause their practice. My nails curl into my palm, not cowering from them. The jealousy of the two pretty much melds with the air, yet I still do not submit, which is what they’d want me to do.

They nudge each other with cold glares as they go back to practicing and I to prying the blades from the practice dummies.

I jerk upright from my bed, having had a nightmare, hair strands matt to my face as I swallow my harsh gasps. I’d not had a dream of such in a while. The same one where my brothers and mother hid in the corner of my cottage, shielding each other. And the dragon, a distant haze of what I can remember right in front of me before Idris shot that arrow. By the time it had fled, my father had bled out... it was too late.

Calming my breathing, I sit up on the silk sheets of my bed, but among the quietness and soft snores of Freya sound asleep, I know I won’t fall into slumber again. I’ve been like this since I’d arrived. Not one day have I slept well.

Huffing, I conclude that perhaps I need fresh air or to trap frogs again.

Freya doesn’t wake as I get up and slide into my boots while hooking a cloak over my nightgown. Bending as I reach for the net I’d made, I slip past the door and down the sconce-lit halls until I’m outside, staring up at the moon. It’s a shade of orange this time, a rarity but a beautiful sight, nonetheless.

I make my way to where the ponds are, but pause for a moment when rustling comes from the bushes. Scrunching my forehead, I scan the gardens full of nothing but thickets separating different sectors within the castle walls like a maze.

The noise stops, and carefully, I continue my path, nearing the pond, but as I let the net fall from my hands beneath me, footsteps on crunching greenery approach from behind. Before I can turn, an arm wraps around my waist, and a grimy hand covers my mouth, causing me to grimace at the grotesque feeling.

Alarm prickles my skin as I try to pry the person off and kick while I’m hauled backward, but the bones of the slim arm digging into my abdomen quickly remind me of someone.

Adriel.

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