Page 127 of Only Flames Remain

Her eyes were alight before she could mask her expression, and I knew I had hit a nerve. But what could an old dagger do for an entire kingdom? Was it imbued with some ancient magic she wished to get her hands on? If there was anything I knew about Queen Dyata, it was that she was calculating.

She always had a backup plan. She was always conspiring.

She was a godsdamned cockroach.

Queen Dyata did not speak, she merely stood silently before the bars. I stepped forward, closing the distance between us. She was right on the other side of the poisonous metal; I could easily reach out and grab her.

The iron wasn’t harmful to me…but it was to her.

I could see it in my mind’s eye. Grasping the necklace that hung from her decolletage and yanking it forward, pressing her perfect face into the metal to burn her skin. I blinked, and the image was gone.

“Where is my mother?” I asked instead.

At this, Queen Dyata laughed. “She is here, of course.”

My eyes were wild as I pressed against the bars to search up and down the cells once more. “Mother! Mother, where are you?”

Her head fell back as her laugh transformed into a howl. “She isn’t on this level, of course. We couldn’t allow you to communicate with her.”

“This level—how many levels are there?” Dread pooled in my gut.

“Many,” she replied.

My time in the castle in Myros could have been better spent. I was only familiar with the main hall, dining hall, and the paths to and from Kallias’s chambers. I never thought to explore further, and I cursed myself for it now.

I had been so stupid.

Perhaps I simply thought that Queen Dyata would never agree to our union, and I would go back to being the lowly human who ran the apothecary in Majur soon enough. That I might as well enjoy my time playing princess while I had the chance.

“I wish to speak with her,” I growled, my composure slipping.

A grin spread across Queen Dyata’s perfectly painted lips. “We can arrange that. If you cooperate.”

“Cooperate with what?” I asked.

Always scheming.

Always plotting.

“That you marry Kallias by day’s end. If you agree to this, you will be bound to him not only in word but in magic. The ceremony of the old gods. If this is completed, I will allow you to speak to your mother. Then, she can reveal to you where your magic originates.”

Of course she would use this for her own gain. Hold it over my head to force my compliance. She was eager to marry us off now. Only so that Kallias could share whatever magic was hidden beneath the surface of my skin and benefit from it.

The ceremony of the old gods would ensure that.

“I—I can’t.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

How could I forsake a fated bond for this?

She wouldn’t hurt my mother, not when she still needed her. I would find a way to break out of this prison somehow and find her. If I married Kallias, what would happen to the bond with Sorin? I still had too many questions to make a decision of this magnitude without carefully weighing the outcomes.

There wasn’t enough time.

“You don’t agree to my terms?” she asked, brow raised.

She didn’t know about Sorin. Didn’t know there was a reason I couldn’t accept everything I had ever wanted as if it were being presented to me on a silver platter.

“Kallias isn’t the man I thought he was.” I swallowed hard. “He is a lot more like his mother than I knew.”