Page 35 of Wild Flame

Chapter Fourteen

The balmy night air whipped a strand of my loose hair into my face as I spun on my heel and swept my arms out to the sides in order to keep my balance. Standing atop the stone wall that ringed the roof of the palace, my feet were precariously close to the edge of the several hundred-foot drop that awaited should I fall.

After checking on Astrid that morning and finding she had suffered from a fever and chills in the night and that she still remembered nothing more from the night before, I told her to take the day off. I had spent the remainder of the day trying to take my mind off what today was the anniversary of. I especially didn’t want to think about any other aspect of last night, namely Malik.

Unfortunately, the entire day had been a failed attempt at distraction. A walk in the garden didn’t help, and my books weren’t holding my attention. When I finally gave up and returned to my room, I sat on my bed staring at the wall for what felt like hours, sending my excuses and missing dinner entirely. Eventually, I let Hilde help me undress and slip intoa nightgown before dismissing her outright. Her disapproving stare had lingered on me before she finally complied.

Once I was alone, I had donned one of the thinner Zehvitian style robes that Astrid had obtained for me and slipped out to my balcony. It had been surprisingly easy to climb down the wall, back into the palace on the first floor, and sneak into the kitchen cellars. There I had confiscated the first bottle I came across and snuck back out.

I took a drink of the stuff now as I paced along the wall and stared out at the palace grounds and the city beyond. In the distance, I could just make out a dragon alighting on one of the massive stone pillared platforms throughout the city that were meant for such a purpose. Though it honestly could have just been a bird. My vision was a bit blurry.

I sighed, gripping my talisman in the pocket of my robe. If only I had wings.Then I could fly away and leave everything behind. I wouldn’t have to be me. I could simply be a dragon, with no parents or politics or assassins to worry about, only the wind, and perhaps my next meal, and—

“What are you doing up here, Princess?” a deep voice asked from behind me.

I spun to find a man standing there. He was Zehvitian, of course, his form tall and broadly muscular. He wore the billowing, wide-legged pants that many in this kingdom preferred, and his chest was partially visible under the open sleeveless tunic he wore, leaving his toned, tattooed arms on full display. His feet were bare as well. He carried himself like a warrior, but one that was relaxed and at his leisure. Something about his bearded face was familiar, but even when I squinted, my vision remained blurry, and I couldn’t get a good look at him. Oh well. It didn’t matter who he was, I supposed.

In answer to his question, I held up the bottle of spirits I had been imbibing for the last hour or . . . however long it had been.

The man glanced at the bottle in my hand, and his brows rose to his hairline. “Siren, you do realize what drink that is, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “No. At first it tasted sort of strong, but now I can’t taste anything.” I hiccupped. “My mother never let me have more than one glass of wine at a time. She said it wasn’t ‘befitting a lady of my station’,” I quoted. “Pff, I don’t see what the matter was. I’ve had nearly the whole bottle, and I don’t feel any different.”

I still couldn’t see all that well given the darkness and my impaired vision, but I think the man’s lips twitched.

“I see,” he murmured, stepping closer. His tone suddenly became gentle as he asked, “Did something happen?”

“Nope,” I assured the stranger, twirling on my heel on the stone and stumbling slightly. The world looked like it was floating. Either that or my eyes were watering. I was upreallyhigh. “Nothing happened. I’m just wonderful. How are you?”

He didn’t reply. “How did you get up here?”

I blinked several times. Was he getting closer to me? I shrugged again. “I’m good at climbing.” I motioned to my bare feet. I saw him glance at them, then down to the gardens far below.

“Youclimbedup here?” He sounded part disbelieving and part impressed.

“Uh, huh.” I hiccupped again. “I’m very good at it.”

“Good at what?”

“Climbing.”

“I’m aware,” he said, though his voice was part amused and part incredulous this time. “We will discuss that more later.” He said the latter nearly under his breath. “But you never answered my question. Why are you up here?” He glanced pointedly at my hand. “With a bottle of my finest silac?”

My eyes widened. “Is that what this is? Well, it’s disgusting.” I glanced up at the wide blanket of sky overhead and popped my lips before finally remembering to answer his question. “And I’m up here because I can’t breathe down there . . . And this makes it easier,” I mumbled, taking another unladylike gulp and then grimacing. If my mother could see me now. But I wasn’t thinking about her or Silvanus or anything to do with home. That was the point. Though, I forgot my resolution the moment the man asked his next question.

“Makes what easier?”

“Today,” I explained, realizing he was definitely moving closer to me. “It’s the anniversary.”

“The anniversary of what?”

I sighed, wishing he hadn’t brought it up. “Of the first time I killed someone,” I admitted. I was staring down the neck of the bottle, but I felt him freeze where he stood only a few feet away from me now.

“Killed someone?” he repeated carefully.

I nodded. “Didn’t have a clue what I was doing. Nearly got caught . . . just like the last time. He makes me"—hiccup—"do it, you see.”

I caught his shocked expression, but then quickly dismissed it as unimportant.

---