BTS: A Court of Embers

1: The Promise of a Rose

THE INVITATION ARRIVED BY FLAME.

Exactly two days ago, the crackling within the hearth silenced. The amber glow cast from the fireplace dimmed throughout the bedroom, the tendrils of fire settling down and shrinking altogether to reveal a crisp, white envelope nestled in between two charred logs.

Upon its discovery, Maren paused her sweeping, so transfixed that she did not even flinch when her broomstick clattered to the ground. She blinked at it. She closed her eyes and rubbed them until white spots dotted the black beneath her eyelids. Lo and behold, the envelope remained and the flames that roared a second ago simmered around it, obeying an unspoken command to not come close to the parchment or a hand that could reach for it.

In hindsight, she could have called for help or alerted another servant in the townhouse. But at the time, that thought never came to mind. It was simply her and the direct existence of magic calling to be recognized, held, and read. As if its presence revealed itself directly to her in the hopes that she would be brave enough to confront it.

So, she crept to the fireplace, got on her knees, slowly stretched the length of her arm towards the firewood, and snatched the letter with two fingers before scurrying away from the mantel. Gazing at the bustling servants coming in and out of her mistress's room, Maren doubted any of the other maids would have done the same.

Then again, it was not just any envelope. It was one with the royal seal of Fae-kind. One that contained a letter declaring the Crown Prince of the Fire Fae an eligible bachelor that searched for a bride in this village. According to the golden ink, a grand ball would be held in a fortnight where he would personally select his choices and take them back to the Neverin Forest. Maren didn't know all the details. She'd only heard what she knew from gossip between the help.

But one girl from this place had a chance to be Queen of a faraway land. A fantasy that young girls read about in books, that they fostered in paper tiaras and etiquette lessons. This was why girls waited for princes. Because one was actually on his way.

Lady Juniper, head maid of the Highmore house stomped her boot. "Maren!"

The maid startled, her trance falling away like a daydream. "Yes, Lady Juniper?"

The older woman put her plump hands on her wide hips and glowered. "Away with the faeries! Stop staring off and bring this tea set into the drawing room."

Ah. Right. Penelope said she hadn't finished with it. Wordlessly, Maren stuck out her arms and anticipated the weight of the silver tray. After a few seconds of Lady Juniper standing still, the head maid's eyes widened as it dawned on her.

"Who do you think I am?" She scowled so deeply the wrinkles in her forehead became trenches. She pointed to the door.  "Pick it up by yourself and scatter! Make sure you hurry back. You have more tasks."

Maren bit her tongue to keep from making a face. The pain distracted her expression, but it did nothing to stop the irritation balling in her chest. As quickly as she could, she grabbed the tray's handles and rushed from the bedroom. The weight of sloshing tea in the porcelain pot made her teeter, her shoulders sore and arms shaking by the time she arrived at the drawing room's door. Through a crack, she saw Penelope seated on a couch opposite from her mother and father.

With a natural blush in her cheeks and bright blonde hair, the girl Maren served was the image of poise, and every bit a possible princess in her satin topaz gown and matching bow. Except, as Maren really looked, she caught sight of Penelope's balled fists and glassy blue eyes. The set of her jaw in fury rather than her normal, graceful smile. Though angry, she was still beautiful. It was a wonder how she and Maren were the same age.