Ashes to Ashes | ✓

8.2 || Bound By Red and Gold

The gold cuff shimmered in the sunlight, glistening with the aura of magic that he had grown quite accustomed to. Up close, he noticed it had similar intricate engraved patterns to the book's cover. Most of it was meaningless swirls, but the emblem of the sun did appear in a few places along the rim of the cuff.

He must have hesitated too long, as she grabbed his wrist and yanked it toward her. Before he could protest, she clamped the cuff around his right wrist. It fit rather snuggly, pressing his black sleeve against his skin, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

"What's this for?" he asked, lifting his arm to test the weight. It was surprisingly light and didn't limit the motion of his wrist too much.

"This is how you'll be recognized as an official guest. I got away without this last time since you didn't actually set foot in the palace, but our destination for this trip is the palace. It's also to ensure the barrier doesn't try to reject you—I believe you got... lucky last time." She waved the question away, showing off her now-bare wrist. The sight was strikingly awkward, and the lack of a cuff revealed how thin her wrists truly were. As she caught him staring, she tucked her hand back under her scarlet cloak, a frown forming on her lips.

Clearing his throat, he pinned his gaze on the book again. "Sorry. It's strange to see you without the bracelet is all."

She chuckled as she turned on her heel. "I didn't know you stared at me that much."

"Only your hands," he mumbled. Only after the words left his lips did his face warm with embarrassment. He inwardly winced, his shoulders tensing. Some part of him pleaded that she wouldn't hear him, hoping perhaps the chatter of the streets would carry his words away.

But she did, and she laughed—that angelic, soft sound that made his heart flutter—and glanced over her shoulder at him to smile. "Are you hoping to get to hold them again?" she asked, a teasing light flitting through her hazel eyes.

"No," he snapped, a little too quickly. The warmth spread to his ears and he cleared his throat again. Tucking the book under one arm, he walked past her. "Let's get going, shall we?"

"Of course," she said, smothering another bout of giggles beneath her hand. She quickly overtook him to lead the way, weaving in and around the crowds as they grew thicker the further they wandered from the tavern. Smiling brightly, she glanced back a few times to make sure he was keeping up.

He found that his steps quickened when she was looking at him. To keep from losing her in the crowd, he matched his pace to hers and walked purposely by her side. His hand brushed hers; she looked up in surprise, but it only took a moment before that sly, teasing smile returned. Hardening his expression, he withdrew his hand and opened the book instead.

Weathered, yellowed pages crinkled beneath his fingers as he cracked the book open. The smooth cover slid easily against his fingers, bending with his hands as he flipped through the pages. Each one was filled with a precisely written script, creating neat, straight rows across the surface of the paper. The letters were unfamiliar to him, but their delicate curves and sharp edges were artfully crafted. Even if he couldn't read it, he could stare at it forever.

"Is this written in Nivean?" he asked, turning the page over. The next one depicted the image of a fiery bird—a phoenix, he recalled.

"It is," Cinere replied.

"I can't read it, but your language is beautiful."

"Oh. Thank you." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a slight blush creeping into her dark skin. "I could teach you."