Court of Flame

by Miranda Martin

  "I'm tired of this baseless opposition," Sven growled when we were alone, speaking as I was getting ready.

  "There's always going to be opposition," I responded. "Though I agree this is getting kind of ridiculous. People just can't handle change sometimes."

  He grunted, leaning against the wall as he watched me.

  I shut down my computer and walked over to him. "I know," I agreed, wrapping my arms around his slim waist. "It sucks to be an enlightened King."

  "Is that what I am?" he asked, tugging me closer. "Enlightened?"

  "Yes," I said, my mouth twitching as I suppressed a smile. "You should probably don some robes and wait at the top of a mountain for your people to come pay you homage. Maybe you should start doing yoga."

  "Hmm." He smirked. "I am on top of a mountain already. Robes aren't a bad idea. They would mean easy access," he added, his hands sliding down to cup my butt. "And yoga would make me limber." He raised a brow. "What are you really getting at here?" he teased. "And I think if I'm wearing robes, you should be too."

  "I'm not putting on a robe. An enlightened King probably wouldn't have a Consort either. So he could focus on being fully committed to his cause," I added, holding back laughter as I poked at him.

  "Fuck enlightenment then," Sven said firmly as I lost control of my reaction, bursting into laughter. "I would much rather have you."

  I sighed as I calmed, cupping his handsome face.

  "I'll be careful," I reassured him. "And I'm going with an army."

  "I want to send Blaise instead," he said tightly. "He has the same title."

  "Yes, but that doesn't make him the same person. You know this isn't what he's best at." I took his hand in mine. "Come on. You have to see me off."

  We both knew I was going. He grumbled, but he came. He wasn't really arguing. I'd seen him put his foot down on things before, and this wasn't it. The trouble for him was, he could see the logic in this plan of action as the Phoenix King. It just ran counter to what Sven the man wanted, like these things often tended to. But he also knew he couldn't keep me in a bubble. So he walked me out to the courtyard. Gave me a tight hug and a firm kiss, and watched as I changed and took off with the small army Igna had assembled.

  I knew how hard that was for him, but he did it anyway, which I admired. I tipped my wings at him as we flew away.

  I tried to hope the new Chieftains weren't planning something more nefarious than peaceful political dissent. Trouble was, I had too much experience to be too hopeful about that as I left Sven waiting for me at the palace. So I settled on a new hope. Do the work and get back to Sven as quickly as possible.

  That I could maybe do.

  Chapter Five

  Sven

  "I believe we should serve three types of dessert. If that suits you, of course, my King. Perhaps it would be better to set up a station to the side where..."

  I tried to focus on what the Head Chef was saying, though planning the traditional honorary dinner for the new Chieftains was the last thing I wanted to do. Historically, the Phoenix King hosted a dinner for each new Chieftain that rose to power, to welcome him or her into the fold. But since so many new Chieftains rose to power at once, it had been suggested by the palace event team that I hold one grand dinner to commemorate the occasion for everyone at one time rather than hosting separate events for each one.

  It was much more efficient, so I had agreed. I had no desire to have a month full of social dinners. And I knew Adara would feel the same. Traditionally, the dinner was meant to start the relationship between the new Chieftain and the King on the right foot. It made sense. The King would be seeing the Chieftain and speaking to him or her often enough that a personal relationship needed to develop to ensure a smooth transition to power. I knew that. I even agreed with it. In theory.

  On the other hand, inviting a large group of Chieftains that were openly against me seemed like a stupid move in terms of security. I had more than half a mind to cancel the whole hypocritical event, but alienating my political dissenters could just add fuel to the fire and give them something else to complain about. Something the other Chieftains might listen to. I couldn't afford to have my allies start to question me. I shifted in my seat, trying to look attentive.

  Still, all of that wasn't why I couldn't focus on what they were saying to me. The reason I couldn't pay attention to these useless details was very simple. Adara. She was out there alone. Again.

  I stifled a yawn as the Head Chef droned on about the ten-course meal he wanted to prepare for the occasion. If it were up to me, I'd throw some sandwiches at them and call it a night. Or, better yet, send them all gift baskets to their respective territories so we could all keep a nice, safe distance from each other.

  "...of course, the appetizers need to be small in order to..."

  I resisted the urge to throw everyone out.

  I didn't know if Adara knew exactly how difficult it was for me not to keep her tied to my side, where I knew she was safe. Where I could keep her that way.

  But I knew who Adara was when I went after her. Her sharp mind, her strong personality, her drive to help all the phoenixes, her independence—the whole package was what had attracted me to her in the first place. And I wouldn't change her for the world. I just wished the world was more accommodating about not throwing so much at us.

  As a man, I just wanted to keep her safe, while at the same time not stifling her—a difficult balancing act. As the Phoenix King, I knew it would be an idiotic move to keep such a valuable asset trapped under lock and key when she could be out there gathering important information and putting out fires as only she could. It was an uncomfortable place to be, to say the least.

  I shifted again in my chair.

  I wished I could be with her. But I knew everyone was right about the perception of the Phoenix King personally visiting flocks where their newly chosen leaders weren't people he liked. It wouldn't just look bad, it would undermine the changes I wanted to make to our society. Changes that I hoped would last, take us to a better place as a people. But, as much as I agreed with the reason why, it didn't mean the enforced grounding wasn't frustrating, that it didn't chafe.

  It was one thing if she was out on a routine round. That came with its own risks and dangers, ones that we could mitigate. But this was a whole different animal. It felt like I was sending a piece of me out to the wolves and hoping they wouldn't bite. Though I suppose it would be more accurate to say a piece of me had decided she was going to go out there and figure things out for me. There was no sending Adara anywhere if she didn't want to go. Just as there was no keeping her anywhere if she wanted to go.

  Thinking about this was driving me crazy. I needed to get a grip on myself and focus.

  With a force of effort, I tuned in, ready to end this meeting with an order for everyone to just do whatever they thought was best—I had no idea how to plan an event and I had more than enough to fill my plate without something like this to worry about.

  "Okay, I think I've heard—"

  My phone dinged, which I could have ignored, but everyone else's echoed that small sound at the same time. Then the old bell tower started to ring. A shot of adrenaline hit me, propelling me out of my seat. I knew before I even opened the incoming message.

  The capital was under attack.

  "Go to your designated evacuation points," I ordered the five people there.

  The Head Chef, the two who worked directly under him, the decorator, and the event manager for the palace all popped onto their feet.

  "What about you, my King? You must come with us!"

  As the King, that was precisely what I would not do, but that wasn't what I told him.

  "I have guards," I explained, just as the door burst open to admit Igna and ten more guards. He must have ordered everyone nearby to report to here.

  When the door swung open, I heard the clash of steel on steel and the sound of a masculine scream cut short.

  "It is too late to evacuate
," Igna barked out to the group. They drew back from the door, wringing their hands collectively. They were not trained to fight. Igna turned his attention to me. "They have people in the palace," he reported, gesturing for the guards to form a semicircle around me as I walked forward.

  People in the palace? I felt an icy calm come over me. That meant people under this roof had betrayed me. There was no other explanation for something like this. The only way to get through the layers of security so quickly on the heels of the alert was if they were already inside.

  But I couldn't do anything about that. Shit had clearly already hit the fan. All we could do was react.

  "Exit points?" I asked, looking over at the five non-combatants holding up the wall on one side.

  "Exits from here are already blocked off," he explained grimly. "And I don't know how long we'll be able to hold them off."

  I felt that knowledge settle over me. He was telling me this was the end. Here, right now, could be it.

  As I reached for the sword and knife I kept next to the desk, I felt relief course through me when I remembered that Adara wasn't here to hurt. She was safe. Even if I didn't make it out of this alive, she would be okay.

  I readied myself, focusing on the here and now. All of us stood there and waited as we heard the sound of footsteps and clashing steel get closer and closer. There were a lot of footsteps. Too many for us to take. I knew that without even seeing them.

  We were cornered, in a fully defensive position. I didn't need Igna to tell me we were in dire straits.

  The guards shifted subtly as the noise was almost upon us, bracing themselves.

  "If they take me out, I don't want to be brought back," Igna said in a low voice, glancing back at me over his shoulder. "Do you understand?"

  "If you're gone, I won't be around to bring you back," I pointed out grimly.

  His jaw tightened as he nodded.

  "It was an honor to serve you, my King," he murmured quietly, his sword up and unwavering.

  "The honor was mine," I said through the knot in my throat.

  I adjusted my grip on my own sword. If I died today, I would do so on my feet with my blade in my hand. But even then, I could only think of her. I prayed that Adara was all right. That she would survive this.

  I'm sorry I won't be here for you, Adara.

  The door burst open in front of us, spilling a stream of armed attackers into the large room. I recognized quite a few of them. Some worked in the kitchen. Some were general support staff. A few were even guards.

  "Honor-less bottom feeders," Igna snarled as he noticed those same guards I did. "You are not worthy of your positions!"

  "Shut up, old man," Giovanni shouted back as he advanced with the crowd. "Your time is up. None of us will have to listen to you anymore."

  The wave of fighters met us, so many that they smashed through the line of guards almost immediately, their numbers too great to hold back.

  My guards were far superior fighters, though.

  I saw Igna take out four men as they attacked him all at once, his sword blurring, his limber body moving and ducking as he attacked with a ferocious concentration. His guards were trained well, a hint of his style infusing theirs. He'd kept his unit prepared for battle.

  But no matter how good the fighter, numbers would always win in the end, especially when there was such a disparity.

  But that didn't mean any of was going to lie down and die.

  Stepping forward, I slit one wiry young man's throat and then stabbed another in the eye with my dagger, one of the men from the kitchen.

  What a waste.

  I felt no joy in the battle as I worked through three more fighters, the scent of blood and other things thick in the air as we shuffled for room, blades whirring through the air, grunts and screams marking hits.

  I fought another vaguely familiar man. He was from a flock that had some of the strongest opposition towards me. Zane.

  "Die, you worthless piece of—" he yelled, raising his brawny arms and swinging his heavy sword at me doublehanded.

  It looked impressive, but it also left him open. I darted in and stabbed him in the gut, ripping my dagger across his torso to create maximum damage. Shoving him off my blade, I spun to parry another attack.

  My eyes fell on Igna as I turned, just as five men converged on him at once. His eyes met mine, the battle rage in them clear as first one, and then another stabbed him. He still didn't go down. He kept fighting, a trickle of blood escaping from his mouth, his jaw set hard. Another stab.

  He swung his sword in a heavy arc, a move meant to inflict the most damage possible while leaving himself completely open. He would never have committed to it if he didn't already know there was no hope of getting out alive. He managed to fatally wound two of his attackers. But then one stabbed him through the chest.

  "No!" I bellowed, shoving my newest kill off my sword and taking a step towards Igna. But it was too late. My eyes held his desperately as they slowly lost what made him Igna. The expression in them, the fire in them, slowly faded, leaving just the shell of his body behind.

  Grief and rage combined in me as I fought with a renewed vigor. If they wanted me, they would have to pay, and pay dearly. I fought with an untiring strength fueled by rage, my body moving almost on autopilot as I cut a swath through our attackers, my body moving fluidly. I tried to protect the event workers, but there were too many of the enemy. They died, weaponless and frightened.

  Unacceptable.

  That was all I could think as I continued. One by one, all of my guards died as well. Until I was the last one standing on our side.

  Not for long. I knew that. I fought with everything, sweat dripping down my face, my lungs burning, muscles trembling finally as my body exhausted itself. This was the end. There was no denying it. But I never was one to give up. Even with the odds stacked so badly against me.

  So I kept going, waiting for the death blow that I knew was coming. My arm was sliced. Someone got me good in the eye with a heavy fist. A small puncture bled in my thigh from when I didn't dodge a dagger quickly enough. Blood and sweat mixed on my body, dripped down my skin, as I fought not for my life, but for everyone around me who had lost theirs.

  A large man with a hard face finally disarmed me with a flick of a heavy wrist when our blades locked. Something that wouldn't have happened had I not worn myself out already. I watched my sword fall to the ground, the sound of metal against the hard floor loud as I was the only one still fighting.

  I took a deep breath and braced for death. It felt too soon. I hadn't had a chance to live my life with Adara. Grow old with her. But I comforted myself with the thought of her far away from here. She was safe. I had to believe that.

  I stood there, my lungs burning as I sucked in air, waited for the death blow. And waited. And waited some more.

  But...the blow never came.

  The big man stepped back, kicking my sword away, though I hadn't reached for it. Instead of the blow I'd been expecting, four people grabbed hold of my arms and legs, wrenching my arms behind me to tie them there, restraining me. Sound rushed back to me, the rage of battle still in me, but slightly muted now that I didn't have my weapon.

  What was going on?

  Why wasn't I dead?

  "Hold him!" the big man barked—Smeer, I thought his name was. Another opponent of mine, though not one I would have thought would participate in such an attack. Not that I expected anyone here to do so. Naive to think I'd won enough people over to expect loyalty from everyone. Naive and stupid to not keep a better eye on the people who were physically closest to me. A mistake I most likely wouldn't live long enough to learn from.

  "What do you want?" I snarled at Smeer, jerking at the restraints on my arms and legs. Why was I still alive?

  Smeer just smiled at me cryptically, his dark eyes satisfied. "You will see."

  I opened my mouth to bark another question, but my eyes shifted to look at the door as I heard heavy footsteps in the h
all outside. The people in the room with me quieted, anticipation heavy in the air.

  What was going on...?

  A large man finally filled the doorway, his stance erect, his silver-streaked dark hair and beard smooth, his gold-embroidered tunic and pants eye-catching and expensive.

  I felt everything go still inside me.

  No.

  It couldn't be.

  "Hello, Sven. It has been a long time," Emberich murmured, his smile cruel. "Perhaps it's time for a chat, don't you think?"

  Chapter Six

  In front of me, Reelin signaled that we should touch down. I checked the position of the sun and realized we'd been flying longer than I thought we had. My mind was so focused on figuring out a way to deal with this resurgence of the opposition that I'd been flying on autopilot with my guards around me. At Reelin's signal, we aimed for a grouping of large rocks to provide us some cover. I beat my wings hard as I neared the ground, half the guards landing before me and the other half after me. I knew it was a strategic decision, so they could cover me from land and air while I touched down. After what we'd just experienced, I wasn't averse to the precaution.

  We changed, the guards moving with military efficiency to dress, eat, and take care of bathroom needs. I sat down with my portion of trail food, the sun beating down on me comfortingly as I thought.

  The first flock we'd gone to was Ruth's. Of all my informants, she was one of the most level-headed. And though Lawrence had never warmed up to Sven, he'd struck me as someone I could still talk to, a man who I remembered as being fairly reasonable. As expected, when we arrived, Lawrence had been respectful and accommodating. He hadn't put a foot wrong, had simply stated that he wasn't a fan of the current regime when I asked. He said he was more of a traditionalist—a vague term that could mean anything. But even that had been said in a measured, reasonable tone.

  I should have felt comfortable enough. But I didn't. The back of my neck had prickled the entire time we were there.