Night light tales, p.4
The Silver Flame, page 4
The crowd cheered as streamers flew. Cider spilled and music began to play. I looked back at Selene, uncertain and trembling and trying to pretend I hadn’t felt the ground shift beneath me. Trying to pretend I didn’t feel like a pawn carved from ice, placed on a board long before I ever learned the rules.
The celebration in the square faded into a dull hum, like a song slipping underwater. Everything narrowed into a single, unbearable moment. My breath caught. My heart felt caged in ice.
The Duke stepped forward, cutting through the noise like a blade. His face was a mask of composure, untouched by the remnants of the celebration still clinging to the air like smoke. His hand found my shoulder—firm, not unkind, but final.
“Come with me, dear,” he said, his tone clipped and absolute.
“What? Where?” I stammered. My voice cracked under the weight of rising panic. I looked for Selene again, her face, her eyes, some kind of anchor in the blur of this unraveling moment.
“You’re leaving now, Lyra. We must make haste to my estate.”
His words crashed over me like icy water.
“But I haven’t said goodbye! I—”
“Lyra!” he snapped, and I flinched. His gaze held no patience. “There is no time. You’ll understand soon enough.”
Before I could argue, two guards appeared at either side of me. The crowd shifted like a parting sea, faces blending into a smear of confusion, envy, awe. My heart beat so fast it might have bruised my ribs. I wanted to scream, to run back to Selene, to my house, to before.
But instead, I let them guide me forward. The tide was already dragging me out, and I didn’t know how to swim against it.
They led me into Selene’s home, a place that was once a haven but now felt cold as The Ridge under my feet. The walls that had once rung with laughter and childhood secrets seemed to close in. More guards followed behind, carrying folded banners, rich tapestries, and the obsidian box.
I stopped.
It pulsed within their arms, not with light but presence. My attention fixed on it like a magnet. Something deep inside me stirred.
They weren’t royal guards. Their uniforms bore the insignia of Virellia. They were the Duke’s men.
I fell behind, steps slowing, and slipped away around the side hallway before they could notice. The corridor was dim and still smelled faintly of lavender and ash from the hearth. Around the corner, I crouched low, peeking.
One of the men placed the box in the Duke’s office and locked the door before disappearing down the hall toward the kitchen, following the same route Selene and I had once used to sneak pastries. Carefully, I approached the door and knelt beside it. The lock stared back, familiar. We had picked it once before.
We were seven or eight, caught in a summer obsession. Selene’s father had joked that summer was “locked in his office,” and so we, fearless explorers of warmth and wonder, sought to free it. Selene had plucked a pin from her perfectly styled hair—her mother had a thing for adornments—and fiddled with the lock until it released. We burst in expecting sunbeams and petals.
There had been only dust and ledgers.
We cried on the floor for hours, swearing summer would never come again. Her father had been furious.
I pulled my own hairpin free, the tiny pearl reminding me of only a few hours ago, with my own father. My hair spilled down my back like a white waterfall as I separated the prongs and eased one into the lock. I nudged the mechanisms up and down until I heard a satisfying click.
The door creaked open. The obsidian box waited on the desk like something ancient and alive. The room hadn’t changed. Books spilled from shelves, parchment curled in loose stacks, ink blotting the desk. The air smelled like memory and old paper.
I shut the door behind me softly and stepped closer, one foot soundlessly in front of the other. The box hummed against the silence. I reached the desk, and I hovered my hand over the opening, blocking the contents from view. I braced myself, moved my hand, and then, relief.
Inside, the black void was stuffed with parchment slips that seemed to be stacked in no particular order. I exhaled shakily.
So, it was chance, I thought.
Something about that calmed the storm inside me. I even laughed a little.
What if someone else had been chosen? Who would be in my place at this very moment?
I imagined myself in the middle of the square as Duke Viremont. I looked out to my imaginary crowd and gestured dramatically to the black box.
Still smiling, I plucked a slip free and unfolded it.
Lyra Seravell
My breath caught. I stared at the name. Anxiety threatened to bring bile up my throat.
Of course. Viremont just put my slip back on top. That made sense.
I pulled another.
Lyra Seravell
My fingers turned numb. I threw the obsidian lid off the top and reached deeper, faster now, the parchment crackling beneath my trembling hands.
Lyra Seravell Lyra Seravell Lyra Seravell
I kept digging. Slip after slip, name after name. Finally, I held one more. I didn’t want to unfold it. I already knew. I held my breath and closed my eyes as the parchment fell open.
Lyra Seravell
They all said my name.
Each one. All mine.
The tears came without permission, burning my eyes. Viremont had only ever meant to send me.
This wasn’t fate. It wasn’t a lottery. It was a setup. A trap.
I shoved the slips back into the box and slammed the top shut just as voices echoed in the hall. Panic flared. I bolted for the door and closed it quietly behind me, slipping to the opposite side of the hallway just as the Duke rounded the corner.
“Lyra.” His brow lifted slightly. “We were looking for you.”
I met his eyes, forcing myself to breathe evenly, forcing my heart to stop screaming. He had no idea what I’d seen, what I knew.
“I—I just needed a minute.” My head spun so fast the hallway seemed to narrow.
He looked at me for a moment, his gaze equivalent to one you would give a dead animal as you pass it. Helpless and useless sympathy. He stepped closer, voice softening. “You can’t hide forever. There’s someone we’d like you to meet.” He held out his arm.
I hesitated. Then I took it, carefully masking every trace of fear from my face. We stepped out into the square. It was empty. The tapestries, banners, carpets were all gone. The music, the dancing, the cheers, even the people had all vanished like a dream. Only a single carriage remained.
It was small and elegant, bone-white with curling marble vines gilded in gold along its edges. It looked like something pulled from a bedtime story. It looked like it belonged anywhere but here, and leaning beside it, waiting, was him.
He was tall and not at all a boy. There was nothing boyish about him. Sun-browned skin ran over lean muscle, like he’d been carved from golden light, not Virellia’s gray. His suit was a deep, dangerous purple with gold embroidery burning along the cuffs and collar. His boots gleamed. Chestnut waves tumbled across his brow.
And then he smiled. Too bright. Too perfect. But it was his eyes that caught me. Green that was too vivid and clean, but behind them was something else. Control, maybe kindness, but definitely power.
He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
He pushed himself off the carriage and sauntered over, as if the slick ice beneath his feet melted on command.
“You must be Lyra,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet.
I stared. He wasn’t from here. He was from Aurea. There was no doubt in my mind. The thought made my head spin. Were Aurean girls just as gorgeous? Did they all have little gorgeous families with little gorgeous children?
Misty breaths curled like smoke from his nose. He tucked his hands in the pockets of his coat and ran his eyes down the length of me before connecting with my own.
“Name’s Kaden. I’ll be your guard.”
I looked at the fantasy of a man in front of me. My voice barely found its way out. “Guard?”
“At your service.” He flashed a grin while giving a mock bow, both somehow impossibly charming. Viremont was still at my back and gave me a gentle nudge towards the carriage. I followed the Aurean man, Kaden, towards the door as he spoke and unlatched the handle.
“Someone’s got to make sure you survive this mess in one piece. Don’t worry.” He swung out towards me, landing close to my ear, and whispered, “I’m not as scary as I look.”
My stars. This cannot be happening to me right now.
He pulled open the carriage door. Inside, plush seats and a carpeted floor gleamed. It was royal, undeniably, and yet, I wanted nothing more than to bolt under it and hide forever. The driver waited by the other side of the door. He was an older gentleman with wind-worn skin and careful eyes. The driver held out a hand to help me up, but as I stepped forward, he flinched.
Just barely, but I saw it. The sting hit deep. That old look.
Witch-born.
“Are you alright?” I asked, softer than I meant to.
He hesitated. “Just surprised, is all.” Then, his eyes steadied, and he reached for my hand again. Our fingers touched, and even through my gloves a sharp jolt snapped between us like lightning, or like memory.
My heart jumped. It was nothing, maybe nerves or an expected reputation. I forced it away. The exchange only made me miss Selene. Made me miss the ease of her.
The driver looked away, throat clearing. “Right. Let’s get moving.” Kaden jumped into the carriage behind me, latching the door closed and giving two knocks to the roof above us.
The carriage lurched forward. Kaden leaned back, arms spread across the back of the seat he sunk into.
“You’ll be fine,” he said almost too casually. “Johnson’s a good coachman. Fast, efficient.”
I barely heard him. I was facing the rear window, my eyes locked on the village shrinking behind me. The life I never got to say goodbye to. The one I was unsure I would ever live again.
“What’s going to happen?” I asked, barely above a whisper. I turned and faced Kaden. “With the selection.”
“Not what you think.” His tone shifted. It was slight but just enough for him to pull his arms from their comfort and into his lap.
“The selection is based off of trials. Five of them. Representatives eliminated after each. They test more than poise or charm. It’s not just gowns and the ease at which you flutter a fan.”
I swallowed. “I thought it would at least be polite.”
“Brutal is the more fitting word.” He leaned in slightly, his voice low. “The last representative standing will be crowned, but let’s be honest, it’s not exactly a victory. This isn’t a game. It’s a strategic maneuver, a political one.”
A chill slipped down my spine. “What do you mean?”
Kaden hesitated. “What better way to test the regions’ fealty than a marriage selection?” He leaned back into the seat, pulling at his cufflinks as if they were chains. “My advice—don’t say what everyone can’t know. Secrets are more than simply words.”
There was fog creeping up the windows as the carriage warmed, but I felt cold.
“What about you? Can I trust you?”
He smiled faintly, but a distance lingered. “I’ll keep you safe. But trust? That’s not something you give away freely. Not there.”
I turned back to the window, my reflection dim in the glass. The sky outside was beginning to darken into twilight, and with it, so did the road ahead.
And I had no idea what awaited me.
Chapter Five
The sounds of the carriage wheels shifted from the crackling of ice to the crunching of gravel. We rode into the neighboring region of Mirun, crossing the Hiems Bridge which connected us to the south.
When the carriage hit the wooden structure, I couldn’t help but stare as The Ridge came into view in the mix of water and glacier below. Virellia has no technical land borders, as glaciers and ice have slowly begun to heave an ever-growing gap. I used to have nightmares about the glaciers pushing us so far away from the rest of Valerieth that the entire region became nothing more than legend. Now, I quite enjoyed that fact. In a way, it made Virellia something that seemed untouchable. Something that would stay the same. Frozen and separated from the rest of the world.
We continued to travel for several more hours, and sleep took me more than once. Eventually, we entered a town near the southern edge of Mirun called Colpus. The snow here didn’t coat everything in an impermeable layer of white. Banks were driven high on either side of the road, but beyond that, sprigs of grass fought through to break the surface above. I pressed my hand to the glass window and felt the cold seep into my palm. Still not the warm Aurean summer, but also not the arctic of Virellia.
I felt Kaden’s eyes on me as I studied the town, but I didn’t care. As a child, this would have felt like a dream come true. The possibility of being a queen. The chance to wear a ballgown and attend royal feasts. But now, it felt like nothing more than a snare set in secret.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the box in the Viremont’s office. Of how each slip said my name and my name only. If he had wanted me to go, why hadn’t he simply asked me? The only answer I could think of was as simple as this.
He didn’t want any way for me to refuse.
I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud.
The two horses pulling the carriage were as black as night and as silky as velvet. I could hear them huff and whinny as the sky fell to dusk, but a part of me always thought that animals didn’t fear the darkness as we did. I felt sorry for them. We had both been forced into situations we didn’t agree upon.
The carriage rolled to a halt outside of a dimly lit building that had a swinging wooden sign hanging above the entrance.
It read,
Mabel’s Tavern & Inn
I stared the sign and turned to Kaden, my face most definitely a portrait of horror. I knew I would have to learn the art of small talk, but I wasn’t expecting to converse with anyone until we reached Aurea.
Kaden smirked as he moved to the carriage door and undid the latch.
“After you, Miss Seravell.”
He swung the door open and stretched his hand out to me, palm up.
I sat up in my seat, my elbows resting against my knees. “Why are we stopping? I thought we had to ‘Leave immediately?’” I threw quotes in the air with my hands as I spoke.
“Well, hate to break it to you, but horses don’t always go with the timeline we humans have planned.” He glanced at the horses who whined and scuffed at the ground with their hooves. He nodded down towards his hand, offering once more.
I hesitated, overwhelmingly conscious of the gloves that adorned my hands and the bare skin of his own. I took his hand, and stood, shuffling over to the carriage door. Kaden leapt down, releasing my hand to unfold the narrow staircase tucked under the carriage. He gave a dramatic hand wave as if to usher me down, but I froze, stuck in the doorway. I wrung my hands in front of me, eyes sweeping from left to right. Even as the moon climbed and night began, people still bustled through the streets. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for a new array of stares. I didn’t know if I ever would be.
I let my hands fall to my sides with a sigh. “You know what, I think I’ll just sleep in the carriage. I’m used to the cold, and then I won’t be a bother to you or—”
“My stars.” Kaden’s hands grabbed hold on my waist as he lifted me from the carriage, cutting off my thin excuses. He let out an exasperated breath, and I froze in his grip as my feet landed on the stone road. He let go and stared at me, hands resting on his hips as he quipped, “Now, do I need to throw you over my shoulder and cause a scene to go inside, or can you walk yourself?”
I stood motionless with my mouth hanging slightly open. My eyes were wide as saucers, and my arms stayed halfway up in the air, like a child who wasn’t sure where to put them.
“I’ll walk.”
Kaden nodded once and stepped away, strolling into the tavern as if it had been nothing. I crossed my arms, letting a huff of breath create a cloud in front of me before following, begrudgingly.
He led me into the tavern, and immediately the smell of bread and bitter alcohol filled the air. Patrons sang a song plunked from a musician’s fiddle. Girls poured pints from barrels resting on the counter. Burly men clashed their steins together, sloshing golden ale on each other and laughing.
It was entirely overwhelming.
I kept my head down as we walked past the tavern entrance and made our way into the inn portion of the building. Seated at a quaint front desk was an elderly woman. Her hair was wiry and gray, but long and braided intricately. Silver thread was woven into the strands, and it shimmered when she raised her head to smile at us.
Kaden approached the woman and leaned over the desk to wrap her in a gentle embrace. “Hello Ms. Mabel.”
“Kaden, darling, oh how wonderful to see you.” She turned and met my stare. She smiled even wider, and I swore I saw tears make her eyes go glassy.
“And even more wonderful to see you.”
The woman walked around the desk and hobbled over to me. She grabbed my hands from my sides.
“Oh, I’m sorry but I—” I tried to pull my hands back, but Mabel had an iron grip.
“Don’t worry darling.” She looked down at the gloves. “You’ll warm up.” She gave me a wink before she walked back over to Kaden.
“I’m guessing you’ll be needing two rooms tonight? Or should I make it one?” A mischievous smirk grew on her lips.
My cheeks reddened. I opened my mouth to respond, but Kaden beat me to it.
“Two beds tonight, Mabel. Sorry to disappoint.” Kaden threw a look over his shoulder, shaking his head and chuckling.
“Alright, alright. If you insist.” Mabel reached behind her and pulled two keys off of the rack.
“Room numbers are on the key. You lose your key, you buy me another one, but you know that rule well, don’t you Kaden.”
“You are never going to let that go are you, Mabel?” Kaden sighed with a laugh. Mabel only shook her head. Her eyes were still glassy, and her smile hadn’t faded a bit.
