Page 89 of Only Flames Remain

“Will you be attending the festivities tonight?” I asked her gently as she moved back to her desk.

She met my gaze with one I couldn’t quite read. “I’m afraid not, my dear. I am in the middle of research on the menborre plant, native to the region around Solmyra. I need to finish.”

“You have an interest in plants?” I asked, leaning across the desk to see a sketch of a black root flower with five diamond shaped petals.

Noor nodded as she adjusted her seat, pulling it closer to the desk. “I do.”

“I will have to come by sometime. I am an expert at herbcraft in Myros, but would love to learn more about the plants native to this region and the western continent,” I replied with a friendly smile.

Noor answered with a smile of her own, absolutely no trace of the intense moment we had shared. “I would love that, dear. You are welcome any time.”

“Thank you for the masks,” Enora said, turning us back toward the entrance of the library.

“Any time! See you tomorrow, Enora!” Noor called at our retreating forms.

A glance over my shoulder confirmed she was already entranced back in her history book.

“What in the nine gods was that?” Enora asked, handing me the black mask and looping her arm through mine.

It was a beautiful lace silhouette the color of a moonless night. I tied a knot in the silken ribbon, slipping it over my head and adjusting it to my face.

I shrugged, the moment all but forgotten.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

CHAPTER 26

Sorin

When I arrived at Azhar’s quarters only to find them empty, I realized that I didn’t have time to spiral out of control. King Mavros was expecting me to entertain King Eldrin from Ravenscar, and appearances meant everything.

I had no option but to comply.

I had managed to push off talk of a wedding for another week. With Enora now free from the dungeons and my poor attempt at a diversion forgotten, all eyes would be back on a royal wedding. This masquerade ball had already been planned, but it would now serve to honor my betrothal to the princess with her presence here at court.

I secured the black mask over my face, though it did little to conceal my true identity. There was no question who it was striding into the hall, power rolling off me in waves, my midnight wings tucked at my back.

The dining room had been utterly transformed. The long banquet tables had been replaced with circular marble tables, pushed to the outer corners of the room to allow for dancing beneath the grand, golden chandelier. The marble tops were adorned with decadent tiers of chocolate cakes and exquisitely colored drinks. The drapes had been replaced with crimson velvet cascading from the ceiling, white flowers twisting around them as if hanging from a vine. The towering stone columns were wrapped with ivy, golden lights threaded through each strand, pulsing softly.

Queen Odessa had used her magic to transform the ceiling into a visage of the night sky, the ceiling above alive with constellations. The half-moon cast a blue glow across the party. Gossamer banners were draped from the rafters in sheer, romantic wisps. Music drifted throughout the hall with no visible source—the sound of bells, harps, and violins low and humming.

It was elaborate beyond my wildest dreams. Queen Odessa had truly outdone herself.

Each guest wore a mask that curved around their eyes. Some were more elaborate than others. While mine was a simple black filigree, others had chosen a more eccentric route. I passed one Vireth with a mask of the god of death, Mordecai. I saw another adorned with an elegant mask of butterflies, traced in gold and silver glitter. Even more elaborate was the Vireth with golden antlers protruding from his. All the fae in attendance were donning their greatest finery; the hum of voices and boisterous laughter already setting me on edge.

There was nothing I hated more than a party.

I immediately caught my father’s eye across the room and walked toward him.

He appeared…angry.

Emrys stood at his side, which in and of itself was never good.

“What is this I hear about the Myrosian spy being released earlier today?” King Mavros asked.

His hand was on Emrys’s shoulder, but his grip was tight, knuckles white. He was using him for support.

“Perhaps you should sit, Father.” I offered the chair behind him, but he merely shook his head.