Page 24 of Burn of the Everflame

Its insistent flare pulsed out unbidden, and the others flinched as they felt the echoes of its wrath.

“She isn’t here,” I gritted out.

“Why not?” my father cut in.

If my glare could slice, he would lay in slivers. With heavy, menacing steps, I strode to him until we stood nose to nose.

My entire life, he’d towered over me—in authority, if not in stature. He had punished me, threatened me, manipulated me. When my influence with the King outgrew his, he expanded his arsenal, dangling the people I cared for in harm’s way to keep me under his thumb. He’d been the unscalable wall I could never escape.

Funny, how he seemed so small now.

“You dare ask me that?” I growled. I tapped the jeweled handle that rose over my shoulder. “You’re lucky the terms of the meeting prevent me from using this.”

Confusion flashed across his face—then indignation. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this situation has become? I’ve gone to great lengths to protect you both.”

I seized the hilt and withdrew it an inch. “One more lie, and even the cease-fire won’t save you.”

“Luther,” Auralie called out. She shook her head. “He’s cost you enough.”

I slammed the sword back into its scabbard, the clang of metal reverberating down the hall.

I clasped Taran’s wrist and lowered my voice. “Take Teller and Lily to the royal suite. If something goes wrong, put them on Sorae. She’ll get them somewhere safe.”

He squeezed my arm and nodded. “What about Perthe—is he back, as well?”

I swallowed, guilt choking my response. Taran looked at Teller, who was equally mute. He and I had never discussed what happened to Perthe on the island. We both had his blood on our hands, and we both knew that nothing would ever remove it.

I gave a silent shake of my head. Taran’s eyes darkened in understanding. “I’ll protect them,” he vowed.

The mention of Perthe had taken the fight out of Teller. He shoved his hands in his pockets, hung his head, and trudged toward the foyer.

Lily tugged at her curls, looking as if she was struggling not to watch him. “Talk to him,” I whispered in her ear.

I would push her no more than that. That journey was their own, and Lily deserved to be fought for. Eleanor slid a supportive arm around her and started to lead her away.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” I asked Eleanor. “You’re the Regent of Lumnos.”

Her eyes jumped between me and my father. “Um, I . . .”

“I am the Regent of Lumnos,” he said. “Until Her Majesty returns and confirms her appoint⁠—”

“Well?” I said loudly, ignoring him. I held out my elbow to Eleanor.

She hesitated. “Are you sure?”

I nodded, and she slowly let go of Lily, taking my arm. I escorted her past my father, who scowled and stalked behind us. “Be brave, cousin,” I murmured to Eleanor. “Your Queen needs you now more than ever.”

She stood straighter and rolled her shoulders back. “I will,” she promised.

When we approached the meeting room, a foul smell was waiting to greet us. It reeked of ruin and rot, and it felt unsettlingly familiar.

Eleanor wrinkled her nose. “What is that?”

Inside, the stench was joined by cloying perfumes and clouds of incense. Tables along the walls were laden with every sweet-smelling flower in the realm, and still the air was so putrid, I could hardly draw a breath.

The Crowns had already taken their seats in elaborate thrones crafted of Lumnos cedar, each carved with the sigil of their respective realms. The Fortos, Lumnos, and Montios thrones were empty. So was the throne of Umbros.

The Ignios throne was not. Its King slumped against it, back to the door, hidden from my sight.