Empress of Fire and Ash | WATTYS2023

CHAPTER THREE [EDITED]

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CHAPTER THREE

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As Prince Rhynirn led her to the dancefloor in silence she could not help but notice the weight of everyone's eyes on her. A hush had overtaken the ballroom and the only sound that remained was the soft rippling of violins strumming. She found that most of the dance was silent too. She was glad of this, if he did not speak to her then she did not need to look at him and she could focus on the steps of the dance and lose herself in the routine instead of her fear.

"Why do they call you the diamond of Ifteem?"His voice came hoarse as if he did not speak often. Ishani was broken out of her comforting cocoon and she considered responding to him without looking at him but then she remembered what Queen Aefentid of the Fires said, never look at your feet.

She lifted her gaze and looked into his bottomless ice-cold eyes. "It is a silly sobriquet." She responded evenly as she found herself dancing not only the akla but also an entirely different dance of words said and unsaid she realised she was terribly unprepared for. A dance her dancemaster had never thought to teach her.

"Not an epithet?" He asked, his voice drawling with bored resignation and Ishani realised that even if his voice was hoarse, he weaved his words far better than she could. As they danced, Ishani felt him lead her both in the akla and this perpetual twirl of words.

"There is hardly a difference, like I said, it's silly." She responded, her voice sweet and light as if she did not truly catch on to what he meant but she did. She only hoped feigning naivety would make him stop weaving these words around her because she did not like to play games she was not good at.

He twirled her around and brought her around again bringing her closer than needed. He looked down at her large pretty eyes lined with kohl, he had never seen a colour like that. He supposed it helped that she was pretty, it was this indignity more bearable.

She faced him again and looked at that menacingly handsome face, all sharp angles like his father's. "If it were an epithet it would mean you transformed under pressure, from a mere rock to a diamond, an alchemy of sorts." He refuted and Ishani kept up with him as the pace of the dance quickened, the violins strumming faster and faster. This was a dance taught to all noble children of the Qai alike but as her feet cried under the pressure of the music she realised she did not know this dance as well as the Ifteemi dances she danced at countless balls.

"Otherwise it's only a sobriquet as you said, a pretty nickname for a pretty girl." He whispered and his lilac eyes flashed against his pale skin, his long hair became slightly disarrayed throughout the dance. The music halted as if it was following this dance of words. That sentence was the blow that ended both the dances they had been footing.

She tried to even her breathing, winded from the dance and the insinuation of his words. She grinned at him, sweet and pretty as her lips pulled upwards so that her teeth showed, bared like fangs. "It seemed you failed to learn at your father's knee that in our world young ladies learn to be both pretty and hard." She responded and she wished her words were delivered with the same smoothness he spoke with but instead it came out like a barely disguised hiss. As she neared his face, she could see the lighter hues of lilac in his deep eyes. She titled her head, "I hope for your sake you continue to see only a pretty girl with a pretty nickname." She said with a saccharine smile that made something in his unmoving eyes twinkle with a twisted fascination.