Page 28 of Embers of Ruin

I don't know if that answer makes me feel better or worse.

As soon as we step onto the terrace, a pair of guards bar our way. One is all muscle, with cropped blond hair falling slightly over his bright green eyes. The other has a rich chocolate complexion, with thick dreadlocks gathered neatly behind his head, exposing the sharp angles of his face. He’s just as tall and muscular as the other guard. Both nod at Onyx, but the dark-haired guard’s attention shifts almost immediately to me.

“Captain,” the guard says as he faces Onyx fully, placing an arm across his chest. His voice is like a sharpened blade—sharp enough that I snap upright and wonder if I’m supposed to curtsy or something. I look at Onyx who has stepped forward, patting the man on the shoulder.

“Briar, I come bearing a guest of the king. She is his top priority.” He looks over at me then back at the guard who nods his understanding.

The blond guard chooses that moment to step up, mouth twisted as he eyes me hungrily. Something about his gaze makes me deeply uncomfortable so I shift closer to Onyx.

The blond guard’s fingers tap the hilt of the sword at his waist. “The king’s top priority, huh?” His eyes twinkle with something that makes the hair on my arms stand up as he cocks his head to the side, examining me again. This time I sneer at him. Fuck you.

Great. He’s sizing me up. I really, really wish he wouldn’t. “You’ll have to show something beyond your pretty face, girl. Captain, is she one of your whores, or is this a private gift for the king?”

I jolt back at the guard’s distasteful remark and my mouth drops for a second before I close it. I want to palm one of my blades and slit his throat, but I am a guest in this place, and that would be in poor taste. But would it? Did I not come here to die? Magic is forbidden, and I possess it. Surely the king plans to kill me.

For a second, anger bubbles in me like a steaming tea kettle, and I almost tell him exactly what I think of him. Before that can happen, Onyx places a firm hand on my arm, his thumb at the crook of my elbow pressing down gently, and I catch myself before I say something that I won’t be able to take back. Maybe he can sense the anger and disgust radiating off of me. The physical touch calms my racing heartbeat and I nod slightly, acknowledging his presence while taking several deep breaths.

Instead of responding, I straighten, giving the guard a sharp smile. “Neither. Perhaps you’d like to ask the king yourself?”

Onyx clears his throat and both guards stand straighter, giving him their full attention.

“We’ll be heading there now. I’m not in the habit of making the king wait.”

“Oh, come on, Captain. We hardly ever have visitors, can we at least have a little fun?” The blond man makes a mocking pout. I want to sever his head from his neck, but we all have things that we want but can’t have. Unfortunately, this is one of those moments. I would love to cut his tongue out for the disrespect he’s shown me.

I’m genuinely shocked because the blond guard is really not backing down.

“I will say this once only.” Onyx steps so close to me that I can feel the heat of his presence beside me.

“This is Lyra,” he says loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear. I can certainly hear the danger masked by his calm demeanor.

“Lyra of Elvora. The next man to insult her or so much as look at her in a distasteful way will lose his tongue, if not his head. Understood?”

His words are blunt enough that both guards nod their understanding as they take a few steps back.

“Apologies, Captain. I only meant⁠—”

Onyx stops him abruptly by holding up a hand, looking at me as he does.

“Do. You. Understand?” he says each word slowly and deliberately, turning his cold stare to both men before it lands on the other guards stationed around us. I haven’t known Onyx long, but I do know that his tone paired with his words are enough to send an icy shiver down my spine.

“Yes, Captain.” Both men reply simultaneously.

I straighten my shoulders, forcing a nonchalant breath as I cock an eyebrow at the blond haired guard. Not so smug now, are we? If the situation weren’t so tense, I’d make a sarcastic comment about palace hospitality. But I catch Onyx’s eye and the look he gives me tells me to stay quiet, so I do.

“Enough. If three armed men are required to manage one unarmed woman, then protocol has become more embarrassing than I realized.” The voice is so sudden I turn my head in time to see a woman striding toward us with effortless confidence. Where did she come from and who is she? Black leather molds to her lean frame with twin daggers resting comfortably against her hips. She walks with quiet purpose, eyes narrowing as they land on the guards, then Onyx, until they finally reach me. I groan internally, because gods of all the times to be presented, it has to be on a day that I look like I’ve been dragged through hell.

My eyes linger on her strikingly beautiful face, taking in every detail. Her warm brown skin glows beneath the torchlight, accentuating high cheekbones and full, naturally pouty lips. Rich dark brown eyes, almond-shaped beneath long black lashes, study me with quiet confidence. Her long black hair is woven into a single braid that begins at the crown of her head and falls neatly down the center of her back, not a strand out of place. She raises an eyebrow as she takes in my appearance, and my jaw tightens. I know what I look like right now, and it isn't… impressive.

“You,” she says, her voice rich, each word edged with quiet authority. “Are you the girl Onyx mentioned?”

First off, I’m a woman. I want to comment, but her face is set in such a severe expression that I simply nod. I’m standing deathly still with my hands at my sides, unsure of who this woman is or her position in the palace.

“My name is Lyra,” I say, clearing my throat as I meet her intimidating stare head-on. “It seems the king has been looking for me.”

I turn to Onyx, trying and failing to look innocent. “I believe I’m his top priority? Is that what you said, Onyx?”

He doesn’t appear amused, frowning as he lets out a deep sigh. “Lyra, this is Lieutenant Mazelle. Mazelle, this is the woman the king has been searching for. Could you have the maids properly prepare her—” he looks me up and down briefly before he continues, “before she is presented to the king? We don’t want to offend him, and the journey has been long. She’s also been quite the thorn in my side, and I need a respite.”