Page 16 of A War of Embers

Alyvia grows still, her hands trembling slightly; the only movement in her entire body. Finally, she lets out a deep, slow breath. “There are many rumors of what happens to them. We do not know. That is between those that guard the veil and Lord Rowan.”

Hmm. “Why is Lord Rowan the only person I keep hearing about? I thought this place was fraught with Lords and Ladies?”

“I’m unsure what it’s like across the sea but here everything amounts to power. The person with the most governs all. That person is Lord Rowan.”

In a sense it was similar to the way Tellus works. Except the entire area is considered a District versus having it split amongst the Lords and Ladies. Still… “The other gods are okay with this? Being under a singular figure instead of ruling themselves?”

“I think you’re looking at this wrong. The Lords and Ladies here do not want to govern. They want to live amongst people and enjoy their time.”

Alright, I take back my previous thought. This is absolutely not the way things work on my side of the sea. All I can think of to say is, “Wow.”

Alyvia offers me a tight smile. “Although this is strange to you, and I apologize that it is taking some time to get your answers, why don’t you come into the kitchen where we can continue talking? If Zeke has chosen to make himself known he will find us easier there.”

Since the dragon obviously is a temperamental bastard, probably from being around Lord Rowan too much. “Lead the way.”

I follow Alyvia back through a series of hallways, closer to the front entrance where she originally pointed out the kitchen. Nerves begin to build in me as we walk, noticing how others glance curiously in my direction. My hair falls around my face in messy waves thanks to the braid denting my hair, hiding my face from view. My fingers itch to twist it back together, but I refrain.

Inside the kitchen people bustle around, clanging pots and pans together while others sweep the floors or clean countertops. No one stops to acknowledge us which is fine by me.

“Are you hungry? I can prepare you some food.” Alyvia asks.

Am I? Immortals can go longer periods without needing sustenance or sleep, but it’s never polite to turn down food when someone is offering to feed you. “Yes, actually.”

Alyvia begins to prepare some kind of dish, but I’m too busy watching everyone else work methodically to hover over her. No one here is living in fear of Lord Rowan. They may fear him, but it’s a different type of fear than people have for Lady Gwenyth.

No one is working as though their lives depend on the job they’re doing. These people are simply doing their job. A few are even quietly talking to one another with smiles on their faces. The only people I can think of that smile regularly are the Royal Guards when they’re delivering punishments because they think they’re seen by Lady Gwenyth. Delivering punishments to those fools is a form of praise.

By now Lady Gwenyth might be searching for me, thinking I’m ignoring her calls. She’s too vain to believe I would do something to defy her like plunge into the Blood Sea. No, she’ll scour Tellus before it ever crosses her mind that I would willingly seek out the people of Aïdes.

“Smells delicious,” a deep baritone grumbles from somewhere over my shoulder. Several people before me tense but continue moving around to complete their tasks. Heat radiates off his body in a thick wave as he passes by me. There’s black scales protruding out around his upper arm, making his porcelain skin seem to glow otherworldly. His dirty blond hair is messy and he’s wearing the standard uniform of the estate: black cargo pants and a gray shirt. His shoulders are so broad they seem to be threatening to rip the fabric.

“Here you go,” another kitchen worker says, handing him a plate with a set of silverware.

He grunts at her before standing against the island, his back still to me as he begins to eat. “Alyvia,” he says a moment later.

She turns slightly towards him but continues preparing the plate she offered to make me. “Yes?”

“Who is the drowned rat standing in the doorway?”

My back teeth clench together at his monotonous voice. Even before Alyvia says anything, I already have a good feeling I know who this is.

“This is Keres,” Alyvia answers politely.

“Char didn’t mention much about her,” he says without turning around. “But I suppose if Sereia couldn’t deal with her, then Rowan will be the next best thing.”

He all but confirms my suspicions. This must be Zeke. The dragon. The monster.

Finally he glances over his shoulder. Pitch black eyes, irises curved like a reptile, blink at me. There’s no soul staring back in those depths. If there is one inside of him it’s buried deep enough the light will never touch it. His chin dips down slightly in greeting. “Keres.”

“Zeke.”

He turns back towards his food without saying anything else.

Alyvia brings over a plate, an apologetic look on her face. She conveys so much in her expression, she’s essentially shouting the words she wants to say. He’s always like this, don’t take it personally.

Several minutes go by, the only noise coming from the workers quietly talking and the dishes being banged around as more food is prepared for later today.

Actually, I have no idea what time it is. Between the heavy rain in Cinnabar, the murky underwater sky, and now this gray weather, I have no idea how much time has actually passed.

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