Page 43 of Only Flames Remain

He was quite the high maintenance prince, exuding control over every little thing when it came to his private chambers. He preferred the luxurious velvet curtains pulled back a certain way, his tunics folded just right. Voirel explained that he was simply particular.

Sorin’s sister was much chattier than I had anticipated. I was surprised he would leave me alone with her, to be honest. I didn’t think I would be able to easily manipulate information out of her, but I wasn’t so sure that was the case the longer we spoke.

“How is it that I’ve never heard of the crown prince having a sister?” I asked.

I was on my hands and knees before the fireplace with a scrub brush, cleaning the soot from the onyx marble tile. It was evident by how dirty and dull they were that it had been a long time since anyone had tended to this specific task. I was surprised the prince would allow it with how ‘particular’ he was.

“Nobody would have,” she considered from the chaise. Her small, delicate hand was buried in Quinnick’s fur as he sat on her chest. “I am not a royal.”

“Not a royal?” I asked, brushing back an ebony lock of hair that had fallen into my eyes.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see her shake her head. “My father was another Vireth fae of no important lineage. Sorin and I shared a mother.”

“Ah, I see,” I replied. “And he took you under his wing?”

She nodded once more. “We are quite fond of each other. In fact, I am fond of all the princes. Sorin and I are blood bound. I’m not sure that King Mavros enjoys my constant presence at court, but Emrys and Valerian are like brothers to me, too. There is nowhere else I would rather be. They are all I have.”

I never had a sibling of my own. It was difficult for me to imagine. I had grown up with only my mother for company. That is, until I met Enora at an early age.

“What does Prince Sorin do in his free time?” I asked, returning the scrub brush to the bucket to gather more fresh, soapy water.

“Free time?” She laughed, tossing her golden strawberry hair over the back of the settee. “Prince Sorin has no free time. He trains with the army, and with Ren.” Who was Ren? Was he a member of the king’s army? “He sits in on the war council with my father. He puts Emrys in his place. He is constantly busy with one thing or another.”

I assumed he would be, just as Kallias was. Sorin would rarely be in his chambers. I would need to monitor his comings and goings to formulate a plan. There was also the fact that I had yet to lay eyes on this ancient relic dagger Queen Dyata had tasked me with finding.

A long beat of silence fell before Voirel spoke again. “Is it true you are the prince of Myros’s courtesan?”

I choked on my own spit, sputtering. “Where did you hear that word?”

Prince Sorin had said Voirel had the mind of a child, and such talk was certainly not appropriate for her ears.

Voirel shrugged. “It’s all anyone at court can talk about. They say you are either Kallias’s courtesan or Kallias’s whore. Though to be honest, I don’t know what either word means…”

My mouth fell open. “I’m not sure that explanation should be coming from me, but no…that is not the right word for what I am to Prince Kallias.”

“Oh, come on! No one ever explains anything to me!” she complained. “I want to be able to speak like the grown-ups. But I can’t if I never learn.”

I clenched my teeth together, cringing. “My lady, I’m sorry. It is not my place. What I can tell you, is that Prince Kallias and I are important to one another.”

She nodded, thoughtful.

“Since everyone at court is speaking about it, does that mean that Prince Sorin knows of my relation to Myros’s prince?” I asked, scrubbing vigorously at one particularly stubborn stain.

“Of course!” Voirel replied excitedly. “Everyone knows who you are. Sorin is no exception. Why do you think you are currently on your hands and knees cleaning my brother’s bedchamber?”

A hum of assent escaped me. I didn’t dignify that with a response.

My least elegant dress had been sufficiently tarnished with only one day of cleaning. Soot stains were embedded in the delicately braided hem. I would need to use some of my allowance to gather more appropriate working attire. Perhaps that would draw less attention, too.

I hardly wanted to be the source of the most recent gossip at court, but I appeared to be just that. I needed to slip in and out unnoticed, and it would be difficult to do so with everyone talking about me. I needed to let things die down, for the attention on me to waver and shift to some other scandal.

I finished scrubbing the stain and sat back on my heels with a huff, wiping the sweat from my brow. The tiles had been restored to their ebony sheen and sparkled anew. I raised to stand, the bucket of dirty water in tow.

“What should I do next?” I asked Voirel, opening the double doors that lead out to the veranda to dump the bucket of dirty water over the balcony. As I spilled the water over the edge, I could hear a faint knock on the main chamber’s door. Voirel rose from the chaise to answer it, Quinnick complaining with a grumble as he was displaced.

“Ah! Right on time. He should be back shortly, if you’d like to wait on the bed.” I could hear Voirel’s muffled voice as I placed the bucket back in the storage closet and returned to the main chamber.

I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting, I had only been joking when I asked Sorin earlier if he had been expecting someone. A beautiful woman with olive skin sat on the edge of the freshly made bed, her long russet hair falling in front of her face. She wore a low-cut gown made of sleek, clinging silk. It hung on every shapely curve as it fell right above her ankle.