Page 55 of Only Flames Remain

I stormed inside, Valerian and Emrys almost crashing into my back as I abruptly halted right past the entrance. Aveline and the Veytari woman were sitting not far from the doorway, huddled together. Their gazes were drawn up to the three of us. I could have sworn the Veytari woman’s jaw dropped before she righted herself.

The fae stood, brushing down her skirts. She appeared as if she was thinking about whether she needed to bow or not, ultimately deciding against it, seeing as we were standing in the middle of a brothel. Naked, writhing bodies were visible out of the corner of my eye as I fixed my gaze on her.

“I wasn’t sure where to take her,” the woman admitted.

My lips curved into a smirk. “You thought a blood house was the next best place for a human with a reputation that has already gotten her into trouble once tonight?”

“I didn’t know—” she began, shaking her head. I raised my hand to stop her.

“It’s fine…” I paused, waiting for her to insert her name.

“Enora.” She bowed her head in respect, and I did the same in return.

“It’s nice to meet you, Enora. This is my brother Emrys and my brother Valerian.”

I glanced behind me to find them with twin smug smiles spread across their obnoxious faces. They were enjoying this all too much.

It had been…a long time since I had done anything that could even remotely be seen as stepping out of line. Valerian was right that I would be answering to Father about this.

“The infamous princes of Blackwater. You lot come with a reputation all your own,” she replied, her gaze lingering on each of us.

I swallowed. “The hour grows late. I think it best we escort you back to the castle. The population of Gothryn might be diverse…but this part of the city isn’t safe for any but Vireth once the sun sets.”

She nodded once, turning toward Aveline and reaching her hand out toward her. Aveline followed, sticking closely to her friend’s side without a word. I gestured with my arm for them to go ahead, and we all filed out of Madam Isabeau’s. I prayed that the woman at the entrance would say nothing as we passed her a second time.

The streets were filled with Vireth in this section of town, indulging in one vice or another. They were dancing in the streets, playing the fiddle or drumming beneath the warm lamplight. Despite the hour, merchants were still hawking their wares for passersby. There were even groups of younger Vireth children huddled in groups playing games with dice against the cobblestone when they should have been sleeping.

I stepped up beside Aveline, and Enora wordlessly drew back to speak with my brothers. We walked like that, in silence, for what I perceived as an incredibly awkward amount of time.

I broke the silence first.

“What on earth made you want to go into that tavern, of all places?” I asked, curious.

Aveline bit her rose-stained lip for a moment, drawing it between her teeth as she chose her words carefully. “We were searching for some…entertainment. We are new to the kingdom. It is customary in Myros to attend parties or gather with friends after our duties for the day are finished. If we have the permission to do so.”

I nodded, folding my hands behind my back. “That is customary in Gothryn as well…for Vireth. Veytari and humans need to exert more caution.”

“Are the Veytari and humans not free to come and go as they please?” she asked.

“They are.” I cleared my throat. “But this isn’t Myros. The fae that reside here…they require blood. That isn’t to say the citizens lack self-control, only that there are wrongdoers around every corner and one must be careful.”

She nodded, avoiding my gaze.

I watched her profile as we walked, her features both delicate and feminine. The reflection of the lanterns we passed on the street illuminated the golden flecks in her brown eye before we meandered out of their glow, thrusting us into darkness once more. It left me yearning for another look.

“That isn’t the whole truth of your night out though, is it?”

She swallowed hard before turning her gaze toward me. Those bi-colored eyes sent a thrill through me as I held them with my own. I had never, in over a century of existence, seen eyes like hers. The brown eye was muted in the light of day; those honey-colored flecks only visible beneath direct light. The blue was the color of the ocean shallows of the Whispering Isles.

Utterly haunting.

Her expression filled with guilt as her full lips parted. We passed another cluster of torches, and the warm glow that illuminated her pale skin was incendiary. Her cheeks flushed with an intoxicating blush, not for the first time.

I cleared my throat. “That is to say, I know that isn’t what you came to Ravenwood for.”

“You do?” she asked, her voice quiet among the flood of chatter on the street.

She answered a question with a question—something I hated when others did to me.