Burn of the Everflame — Chapter 24

24

LUTHER

slumped forward, glaring at the meeting room door—Shut. Locked.—andI seethed at the knowledge that my Queen was on one side, and I was trapped on the other.

After the infuriating meeting with the Twenty Houses, we’d spent the afternoon in Lumnos City. Diem had been incredible, as she always was, using her Montios magic to stabilize damaged stone buildings and her Arboros magic to grow food to restock smoke-ruined kitchens.

My blood boiled at the snobbery that met her efforts. Diem’s magic, though strong, was novice. The elite Houses were accustomed to artfully carved marble and long tables laden with steaming delicacies. They were neither impressed nor grateful for her rudimentary rock walls and raw potatoes.

Equally irritating was the delight they took in their peers’ misfortune. In Mortal City, I’d witnessed countless examples of people sacrificing what little they had to help those who had even less, but here in the heart of the realm’s wealth, the only thing being shared was gleeful speculation whether any of the top families had lost enough to open up a spot among the Twenty Houses.

I was grateful for Eleanor. She used the visit to show Diem off to the clandestine Embers she’d recruited, which gave them a chance to compare the rumors they’d heard to the truth of the woman she was. Tucked among the upturned noses, I caught more than a few looks of surprised admiration.

As nightfall arrived, Diem offered to move those without shelter to the palace. Her evening was spent delivering hot meals to their rooms and

nodding silently while they vacillated between pelting her with complaints and wheedling for a seat on her new council.

Just when I was about to steal her away for a quiet dinner alone, the Ignios contingent cornered her and demanded a meeting. I was eager to join, but Diem sent me to check on her mother and brother. When I returned, I found the door locked.

“There he is,” Taran’s voice carried down the hall. “Told you if we found her, we’d find him.”

Zalaric’s eyes rolled as he and Taran sauntered toward me. “Funny, I remember suggesting we look here first, and you insisted we search the whiskey casks instead.”

Taran’s grin wavered. “I just wanted to celebrate Queenie and Lu’s return with my first drink in a month.”

His eyes darted nervously to mine, searching for my reaction. For a long time, I had been more father than friend to Taran, urging him to abandon his self-destructive vices, and for a while, he did. Then his brother did something unforgivable. After that, even I couldn’t stop Taran’s dark descent into barfights and drinking.

To my deep relief, it seemed he was finally finding his way back to the light—and I was certain I knew the reason why.

My stare slid to Zalaric. “A month of no drinking? How did you manage to talk him into that?”

“Please,” he said tartly, “I cannot be blamed for every wild idea this walking tornado comes up with.” He examined his nails. “That decision was all his.” Though he feigned boredom, his mouth lifted in the smallest, almost unnoticeable smile.

The door threw open with a crack. A red-faced man went flying across the corridor, pinned to the opposite wall by a net of hissing shadows.

“How dare you,” he roared. “I will not be sent to my chambers like a child!”

“Then you will be sent to my dungeon like a prisoner,” Diem’s voice floated out. “Your choice.”

The orange-eyed woman I recognized as the Ignios High General, Nidara, approached the doorway. “You are no longer Regent. Accept it and return home.”

“Tonight,” Alixe added as she slid past Nidara.

I frowned. Alixe had been asked to join Diem’s meeting, and I had not?

Alixe ran her hands over the pinned man, pulling out weapons hidden beneath his robes while he sputtered out protests. When her arms were full of blades, she turned to Taran and dumped them in his hands.

“There’s another in his headscarf,” Nidara said. “A small one in the back.”

Alixe fished out a thin blade behind the man’s head. “I’ll take him from here, Your Majesty.”

The man glared at Nidara. “Why am I being sent off and she isn’t?”

Diem appeared at the door. “Because she was honest with me, and you were not.” She tapped a finger to her temple. “Never lie to someone who can read minds.”

Alixe gave me a quick, awkward glance before hauling the man down the corridor. I turned to Diem and pressed my palm to my chest. “My Queen, your family is safe. Your mother is at camp, and your brother has decided to remain here, in his chambers.”

I left out that both had given me an earful of complaints about the other —the latter, angry at his mother’s lies, and the former, frustrated at his unwillingness to consider the many reasons why she felt she had to.

Somehow, I’d become the Bellator family mediator.

Strangely, I didn’t hate it.

Diem and Nidara retreated back to the room. “We’re almost done here.”

I stepped forward. “Would you like me to join y—”

The door closed in my face.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Taran and Zalaric exchange raised eyebrows. I clenched my jaw and slammed back down onto the bench.

“I’ll help Alixe,” Zalaric said. “You two should catch up.” He took the weapons from Taran and nudged him toward me with a pointed flare of his nostrils, then hurried away.

Taran crashed down beside me. “Alixe told everyone the Crowns lied about Queenie being with the Guardians. I can’t believe you two spent the whole time apart. I bet you were a nightmare to deal with.” He grinned, elbow digging into my ribs. “And I bet the reunion last night was wild.”

I raked a hand through my beard, debating my answer. There was no point in pretending with Taran. Though he accepted my need for secrets, he never let me get away with lying to his face. But until I understood why Diem was acting so strangely, I wouldn’t risk saying anything that might betray her trust.

“Have you and Zalaric been having wild reunions while I was gone?” I asked instead.

A guilty flush rose on Taran’s face. He shoved my arm, and I finally cracked a smile.

“I like him,” Taran said. “He’s not like anyone here. He worked for what he has. He doesn’t care who your family is or what titles you’ve got.

And he only cares how much money you have so he can find a way to take it.” He snorted. “He persuaded five of our cousins to pay him their entire allowance. I was worried the snobs here wouldn’t accept him, but they’re all desperate to make him like them. He has this energy about him . . .” His face turned soft and thoughtful.

I recognized that look and the profound emotion that fueled it. My own heart roared as I thought of the woman who inspired it in me.

“I used to make fun of those people who get turned on by strong magic, but when we spar together, Zal doesn’t even have to try.” Taran blew out a breath. “Fuck, it’s hot.”

He winced and adjusted his crotch, and a sympathetic laugh rumbled out of me. “Believe me cousin, I understand.”

“He and I have so much in common. We both had shit childhoods. Our fathers are top candidates for most evil man in Emarion. We both . . .” He looked down and shrugged. “We both never felt like we belonged.”

I laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it hard. I knew he’d never been at peace here. I’d talked him out of leaving Lumnos countless times, worried that without me to watch over him, his vices would quickly become his end.

He groaned and stuffed his face in his hands. “He probably thinks I’m some damn fool he can have fun with until he makes enough money to leave. It’s going to be just like before.”

“It’s not,” I said firmly. “Zalaric followed you to Lumnos, didn’t he?”

“He followed Diem here. He thinks she’ll make things better for half- mortals.” His head turned to me. “Like you.”

I wasn’t so sure Diem had been Zalaric’s reason so much as his excuse, but I also knew there was no talking Taran out of this state. His faith was not easily given. Only time would tell if Zalaric was up to the challenge.

“Did you know?” I asked.

“That you’re a half-mortal? ’Course I knew. Aunt Avana dotes over Lily and ignores you. I thought you were the result of an affair, like half our

cousins are. Then I saw how much you were risking for the half-mortals.

People like us don’t do that without a reason.”

“You helped, too.”

“I did it for you. If anyone else had asked, I would have said it was none of my business.” His head hung lower. “What kind of man ignores suffering until it affects someone they love?”

“Even the best men do things they’re ashamed of.” I grabbed the back of his neck. “I’m lucky to have you, Taran. So is Zalaric. If he doesn’t know that, then he’s the damn fool.” I gave him a rare grin. “But I think he does.”

We fell into silence, our minds on the strangers who entered our lives without warning and turned them upside down, leaving us begging for more. The quiet was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, followed by the face I least wanted to see.

“Remis,” Taran grunted in greeting.

My lips twitched up at the subtle insult. My father insisted on formality, even among family. For Taran not to address him as Regent, or at least Uncle, was a targeted blow.

“Nephew,” my father gritted out. “I’d like a word with my son.”

Taran looked at me, his expression clear: Want me to tell him to fuck off?

I gave my head a subtle shake. Taran clapped my arm, then dragged himself to his feet. “Sure thing, Remis,” he said with a smirk. He whistled a Descended funeral dirge as he strolled away.

My father’s sour look shifted to me. “You could have warned me before sharing our secret with all of Lumnos.”

Hot, vengeful sparks leapt to my palms. How dare he reduce my mother’s life, her murder, to “our secret”?

“Avana is mortified,” he said archly. “The Hanoverres won’t even speak to us.”

I leaned back against the wall, staring at the door that kept me from my Queen. “Good.”

He shook his head. “You and Diem are rubbing off on each other. She’s turning spiteful, just like you, and she is making you reckless.”

My vision went red. My father’s head cracked against stone as I leapt up and pinned him to the wall by his throat. It was strange to see no trace of magic glowing in his wide, alarmed eyes. Though he’d been the furthest thing from my mind when I stepped forward at the Challenging to trade

Diem’s life for mine, snapping their bonded bargain and stripping him of his magic forever had been a delightful reward.

“You’re lucky to be alive, after everything you’ve done,” I growled.

“So are you. Both of you. If not for my intervention—”

My fingers squeezed tighter, his racing pulse thumping beneath my grip.

“Like when you warned the Fortos King we were coming to free her mother?”

“I told him Diem was coming to murder her mother for being a rebel traitor. Then I reminded him he had a duty to keep Crown prisoners alive, and I told him to turn you and Diem away. It was the only thing I could think of to protect you.”

I studied his face, looking for the lie. Not that I would find it—no one lied better than my father. I let go and shoved him away.

“Luther, be smart,” he said between coughs. “If I wanted either of you dead, you think I couldn’t have arranged it? You two think your strength makes you invincible. I assure you, son, you are not, and neither is she.

Every day, I pray to the Blessed Mother that the enemies you consider weak don’t slit your throats while you look away.”

“And you’re not the enemy? You took my titles, you tried to push us apart—don’t deny it.”

He huffed. “That was before the Challenging.”

“What changed at the Challenging?”

“Everything.”

The lock clicked, and the meeting room door swung open. Diem emerged, followed by Nidara—and Eleanor. Apparently, Alixe wasn’t the only advisor whose counsel Diem valued over mine.

The axe in my heart sliced a little deeper.

“Thank you for your candor,” Diem said to Nidara, then turned to Eleanor. “Send a hawk at the first sign of trouble, and I’ll rush right back.”

Eleanor bit her lip in a way I knew meant she was fighting some rising insecurity. She looked at my father, then back to Diem. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather Remis—”

“Very sure,” Diem cut in. “You’re my Regent . . .” She hesitated. “ . . . in Lumnos. You have my full trust to handle this realm in my absence.”

Eleanor stood a little straighter. She gave me a quick smile, then left with Nidara.

Diem spun to my father, her glare pointed enough to chisel stone. “I have been waiting so long for this moment,” she said slowly, as if savoring every syllable. “Remis Corbois, you are hereby stripped of all titles. You may broker no deals on behalf of the Crown or House Corbois.”

“Everyone knows now that you’re not Corbois,” he said hotly. “You

can’t take my place as Head of House.”

“Luther can.”

Both of their stares turned to me, one amused and one furious. My jaw tightened to hold back my frustration. I wanted to fight in her name, not manage my cousins’ squabbles and politick with nobles on behalf of House

Corbois.

“If that is your wish,” I gritted out.

Diem frowned.

“Look at him, he doesn’t even want the role,” my father argued.

When no argument came from me, Diem’s brows dug lower.

“Fine,” she said to him. “Keep your place as Head of House, but stay out of my sight.” She pushed past us and strode down the hall, calling over her shoulder, “You owe me a debt, Remis Corbois, and you do not want me to call it in.”

“I’M GOING TO IGNIOS TOMORROW,” Diem said as I caught up with her outside, walking toward the Guardian camp. “Nidara says things are bad there. She isn’t sure their people will survive much longer without a leader.”

“Lumnos needs its leader, too.”

“No, Lumnos needs a council. Marthe Hanoverre may be a nasty old hag, but her idea was a good one. The people here need to learn to govern themselves when I . . .” Her voice abruptly fell off. “Alixe is coming with me, so I’m appointing you to lead the Royal Guard until we return.”

I grabbed her hand and stepped in front of her, forcing her to a stop. “I want to come with you. We promised to face these things together.”

She didn’t pull her hand away, but she wouldn’t look at me, either. She stared down at where my fingers curled around hers. “I won’t be gone long.

A day or two at most.”

She sounded ashamed. And she looked miserable. Tired. Heavy. Like she couldn’t bear one more battle to fight.

“This is what you need from me?” I asked.

She swallowed, then gave a tiny nod. “It is.”

Something told me that wasn’t the truth, or at least not all of it, but her weary posture kept my arguments silent.

I grazed my thumb over her wrist. “You did well today.”

“I did nothing. But you . . . telling everyone about your mother . . .” She shifted a bit closer.

“I was sick of hiding,” I said, though that wasn’t the whole truth, either.

When I saw the woman I loved facing a hateful mob with head held high, I wanted to be brave. Like her. And I didn’t want her to be alone, so I said the one thing that would turn them all against me, too.

She looked up at me, eyes gleaming. Her lips parted as if she might speak, though no words came out. I threaded my fingers in hers, wishing I could weave her into me in a more permanent way.

She turned her face away. “I should sleep. Alixe and I are leaving early.”

“Can I at least bring you dinner?” I forced myself not to look at the too- thin body she’d been hiding under cloaks and baggy clothes. The body she had allowed me to see and hold for the briefest moment before inexplicably pulling away.

Her weak nod filled my heart with hope. I walked her to her tent, fetching her a lantern to light its dark interior, then ran off to fill a bowl with stew roasting over a firepit and a mug of hot tea. I hurried back, thinking this might be our chance to talk through whatever kept her at a distance, but in the dim orange glow of the lamplight, I saw her body spread out beneath a blanket on her bedroll, eyes closed.

“Diem?” I called out.

She didn’t move.

During our weeks on the run, I’d developed a habit of waking in the night and creeping to her side, needing to confirm that she was safe before I could sleep again. By now, I knew the way she slumbered—the way her body curled in like a cat, the barest trace of a smile that always stayed on her lips.

She was most definitely not asleep. But she wanted me to think she was.

The knowledge stung. I set the bowl and mug beside her and dimmed the lantern. I returned to the palace, where I packed a bag of her clothes,

then went to my room to grab spare weapons to give her before heading to the kitchens. There, I packed a satchel of fruit, bread, and hard cheeses, then headed back to camp.

When I ducked beneath the flap of her tent to set out her things, the sight of her empty bowl and sleeping body—in earnest, this time—left me both hurt and relieved. I settled on the grass outside and closed my eyes. It took hours and a thousand dark, troubled thoughts for sleep to find me, but eventually, it did.

When dawn arrived, I awoke to her blanket draped over my shoulders, wrapping me in her scent, and Sorae’s silhouette shrinking into the clouds.

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