Page 86 of Burn of the Everflame

DIEM

What we caused was much more than a scene.

Mortals loved gossip to distract them from their lives of hardship, and though we wrapped ourselves in cloaks and did our best to go unnoticed, within minutes half the town knew that we’d arrived.

By the time we made it to the central square, a crowd had begun to gather around us. Between my mother’s disappearance and return as head of the Guardians, my long absence, the prior day’s attack, and my new nine-peaked Crown, there were few in Mortal City who didn’t have strong words to share with at least one of us, and the rest were keen to watch.

Our “quick” excursion lasted most of the day. My mother checked in on her allies, and I heard the mortals’ complaints. I was surprised, but relieved, to find that Remis had kept his promise to protect them, at least until the Crowns had arrived. The last few days had been a nightmare, with husbands ripped from wives, neighbors gone missing, children left abandoned and wondering if their parents would ever return. Soldiers had knocked down doors and ransacked houses. Many mortals had resisted—not all had survived the fight.

As usual, Luther’s suspicions had been right. During my last trip here, the mortals had pledged me their loyalty, and in their eyes, I’d betrayed that trust by disappearing while the Crowns ransacked the town. It took my mother speaking up on my behalf to keep the mob’s frustrations from turning to something more vicious.

Luther stayed close by my side through it all, his vigilant eyes forever on the hunt for a threat, pressing against me anytime someone came within arm’s reach. I should have told him to stand down—I needed to prove I wasn’t a danger to the mortals, not the other way around—but every time our hands brushed, it sent a burst of strength through me that made me start to believe I could do this after all.

Eventually, the crowds thinned, allowing us some freedom to wander. Despite the tension between us, I couldn’t resist showing Luther the town I’d called home. Between his work saving the half-mortal children and the close eye he kept on the Guardians, he was already more familiar with Mortal City than most Descended. It was pure chance our paths never crossed before we met—he mostly came at night, when it was easier to cloak himself in shadows, while I spent most evenings in the safety of my family’s cottage on the marsh.

What he hadn’t seen were the places only a resident could know, like the market stall that sold my favorite sweets, the belltower with the prettiest view of the village, and the run-down tavern that was infamous for pouring the best ale if the barmaids liked you and watered-down swill if they didn’t. Luther’s brooding veneer cracked with a smile when I told him I’d been permanently condemned to the latter because of an unfortunate incident with a runaway wild hog—another misadventure with Henri, I thought with a pang of nostalgia.

The night before the Challenging, I’d taken Taran and Alixe on a similar walk. That had been a tour of the city I hoped they might help save. This was a tour of something that couldn’t be saved, only remembered.

This was a tour of me.

The most me I could give him, for now.

I found myself making excuses to touch him—pretending to stumble and grabbing his forearm for balance, taking unexpected turns so I could tug him along. Emboldened, he did the same, keeping his hand on the low curve of my back. When an old patient offered us a slice of wild berry tartlet, I reached to wipe a smudge of red from his lips. My thumb lingered, his eyes locked with mine, and my heart filled with a love so fierce, it left me aching and breathless and utterly miserable.

We didn’t touch much more after that.

My mother stepped away to speak with a reclusive contact from her past as an army spy, leaving me to sit with Luther in uncomfortable silence, when the sound of a gryvern drew us both to our feet. Unable to land in the narrow streets, Sorae touched down on the outskirts of town, with Alixe on her back.

“Stay here,” I told Luther, then ran to meet them. “Was there another attack?”

Alixe saluted. “You might call it that. The Twenty Houses sent a delegation to the palace. They’ve demanded to speak with the former Crowns. They’re offering to recognize them as the ‘rightful’ Crowns if they stand against you.”

“A fucking coup,” I muttered. “That didn’t take long.”

“They’re fools to challenge you. Still . . . people do foolish things to keep their power.”

“I need to return,” I called out to Luther. “Wait for my mother, then get her back to camp.” I swung onto Sorae’s back behind Alixe. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Luther yelled in protest, running toward us. Alixe hesitated—and so, to my shock, did my gryvern.

“Go,” I barked, and this time, Sorae obeyed, launching into flight.

Alixe frowned as she watched Luther fade, then looked back at me. “There’s something else. The former Ignios King passed away last night.”

An empty numbness met the news. Saving him would have only cost me a drop of blood and an ounce of compassion. In my anger, I’d been willing to offer neither.

“His brother is demanding your arrest for murder,” she went on. “He claims that, as his brother’s Regent, he should be recognized as the ruler of Ignios, not you.”

“I’m guessing the Twenty Houses have given him their support?”

She nodded. “I imagine they’ve sent messenger hawks to the Regents of your other realms to offer them the same.”

“Eleanor is the Regent of my realms,” I grumbled. “All of them. Not just Lumnos.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty . . . is that wise?”

My brows lifted. “You doubt Eleanor?”