Page 11 of King of Fire and Flames

“Do you want an Earth Realm bride or not?” I snapped. “If I die here, the reavers certainly won’t work with you. So what’s the point?”

“If there is no living Mydorian heir, we will simply find another method to ensure the elves’ cooperation.” Bakhur lurched forward, strong fingers pinching my chin as his gaze flicked over my face. “Either way, the Sun Realm wins.”

I shoved his hand away and paced along the edge of the dais, ignoring the snickering courtiers below. Dying today simply wasn’t an option, so my choice was made. I would compete to marry the Fire Prince.

I stopped before the throne, clasping my chained hands tightly in front of me, striving for calm. “If I agree to amuse you, King Azarn, are you willing to vow that you and any member of your court will not harm or assault me in any way until either I win or am defeated?”

Fire danced in his eyes. “Yes, I can promise you no harm will come to you until you’re defeated. Now return to your chambers. I’m considering whether your first event might be our post-dinner entertainment tonight or perhaps the following night, so don’t get too comfortable.”

Willing my legs not to shake, I bowed my head, and then began to turn away. “One more thing,” I said, whirling to face Azarn again. “Did the Storm King agree you could bring me here?”

He looked at his coat and flicked a speck of something off the fine material. “Yes. And I’ve already sent word to Coridon that you have arrived safely and invited Arrowyn to join us. I’m certain he’ll wish to witness the festivities.”

The festivities. How cruel fae were.

“Yes,” I said calmly. “I’m sure he would.”

I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Arrow, but even so, sickening heat infused my blood, excitement, I guessed—knowing I’d soon have a chance to slit his double-crossing throat.

I nodded at Raiden and Esen who stood behind me. “And these two, why keep traitors to their own kingdom by your side? Aren’t you afraid they’ll betray you, too?”

“I have mages to dampen the magic of other realms, allowing us to exert control over them. For example, I’m sure you’ve realized you cannot use your reaver cloak in Taln. And besides, I believe in keeping the distrusted close. Esen, in particular, is akin to a disfavored hound, eager to please whichever master tosses her the juiciest scraps of meat.”

Esen flinched at his words, then straightened her spine.

What Azarn said rang true. Esen had always been ruthless, putting her own interests above all else. But no matter how I tried to frame it, I couldn’t accept Raiden’s presence in the Fire Court as easily as I did hers.

I caught Raiden’s gaze. “How did you masquerade as Arrowyn’s dearest friend for all those years? Do Stormur and Ildri know about your defection to the Fire Court? If so, they must be heartbroken and ashamed.”

Brown eyes stared at the two Fire Princesses on the dais, not even flickering as he ignored my question.

“Enough prattle,” said Azarn. “Return to your room and the comforts I’ve generously provided. You will need your energy if you hope to survive the first event.”

My chains clanked as I shifted my weight but said nothing.

The king leaned forward, raising a brow. “Considering the circumstances, have I not shown you great kindness, Zali Omala? Can you not thank me for this service?”

I wouldn’t thank him for one damn thing, comfortable room or not.

And great kindness was overstating the situation. Were all fae kings so delusional about themselves? Arrow certainly had been.

Damn. Not Arrow again. When it came to him, I refused to think of anything but his destruction. How pleasurable, how deeply satisfying it would feel, to punch his smug face many times over.

Esen tugged the chain between my wrists and hauled me down the dais steps. At the bottom, I looked over my shoulder. The queen and her son stared back. Marcella stuffed dates into her mouth, and the ghost girl—Ruhh—glared at me with evil intent.

Melaya and his twin stood off to the side behind the royal family, a fire pit burning between them. The unnamed twin’s face was calm and blank, and no flames burned in his dark gaze.

As we exited the hall, I nudged Esen. “Is Melaya’s twin as powerful as he is? He looks constipated, ineffective.”

A quick glance passed between Raiden and Esen. “Nukala?” she said. “He is essential.”

We climbed the tower steps that led to my room.

“Can the dead girl interact physically?” I asked.

“You want to know if she could pick up a fork and stab you in the neck?” asked Esen. “At certain times, yes. But her… condition waxes and wanes.”

I snorted at the memory of my attack on the Fire Court’s envoy back in Coridon as Esen unsheathed a small knife, digging it in my side. “No more questions.”

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