Page 37 of Only Flames Remain

It was Voirel, her copper hair spun into a nest at the back of her neck. She was flushed, as if she had been running after him through the corridor.

“Voirel…this is important,” Emrys insisted, whirling on my sister.

I stood from the armchair.

“What is this about?” My own gaze darted between the two of them.

Emrys might not be related to Voirel by blood, but he loved her as if she was his sister despite it. Voirel was half human, half fae. A halfling, like me. Though no royal blood pumped through her veins.

When our mother, Melantha, passed, I vowed to take Voirel under my wing and protect her. She lived at court so that I could keep a close eye on her. Despite having different fathers, Voirel was the most precious and dearest sibling I had.

She was…different from the others.

While she aged slowly as all Vireth fae do, she never fully developed mentally nor physically. Her mind was that of a child. She was small for her age—though only fifteen years my junior. Voirel’s condition was a mix of cognitive, magical, and physical disorders. Her development slowed when her fae blood awakened, though it did not stop. It was a stasis syndrome that, while rare, was known to particularly afflict halflings.

Another reason the Shadowed Order thought human blood was tainted.

Emrys had taken a liking to her and treated her as if she were his own blood. Valerian, too.

She needed all the protection she could get.

Voirel took in my expression, her mouth falling open. “I take it you haven’t heard, then—”

“Haven’t heard what?” I asked, crossing my arms.

I was barely taller than Emrys, but I sometimes had the urge to make myself even taller and formidable in his presence.

“Father is sending Voirel to Stormgaard…alone,” Emrys replied.

My head snapped back as if I had been struck. “He—what?”

Emrys nodded. “He’s decided to move against Myros. He doesn’t want her to be caught in the fray of whatever retaliation ensues. He won’t allow her anywhere near the castle…”

“Father is moving against Myros?” I asked, my face scrunched in confusion. “I just spoke with him this morning…there was no mention…we reached a truce—”

“He isn’t in his right mind, Sorin! You must speak with him.”

I nodded, exchanging a concerned glance with Rensford. He had noticed it in recent weeks, too. The decline King Mavros was experiencing wasn’t purely physical. He was deteriorating mentally more rapidly with each passing day. I pondered whether Queen Odessa knew about this development, and why she hadn’t brought it to mine or Emrys’s attention.

“Where is Valerian?” I asked.

Voirel rolled her eyes. “Where else, Brother? Drowning in his cups. He is likely passed out in some tavern elsewhere. Nobody else needs to be bothered by this. I didn’t even want Emrys involving you.”

A pinprick of hurt bloomed in my chest. “Why not?”

Voirel’s face softened, her small hands releasing the fists she had balled at her sides. “Because I won’t be going. There is nothing he can do to keep me away. He isn’t my father.”

I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. An obsidian strand flopped over my forehead as I bent down to reach her level.

“I will speak with him. Not only are you not going anywhere, but we aren’t marching against Myros either. It hasn’t even been a fortnight since he sent us to fly over Majur and scare them. There has been no further provocation on their side. We need to focus on strengthening our alliances, not waging war.”

“Speaking of alliances…” Emrys’s mouth cracked into a full-on grin. “When does Princess Morwenna arrive from Ravenscar? I, for one, am excited to meet her.”

“That’s another thing!” Voirel huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I had to find out you were betrothed from him!” She jabbed a finger in Emrys’s direction.

I released an exhausted exhale as I caught Ren’s gaze again. “Nothing is final yet. Until the papers are signed, our alliance with Ravenscar is treading on thin ice. We cannot afford to do anything that would put the alliance in jeopardy, especially in the wake of Sylvaris’s potential realignment with Myros.

“Marching against Myros would do just that,” Emrys replied with a nod.