BTS: A Court of Embers

12: The Forbiddance of Mercy

It was dark and silent and desolate when Maren crawled out of her covers.

As swiftly as possible, she sank to her knees and searched under the bed. Her fingers connected with satin, her hand grabbing and tugging the thick jacket she'd requested a day ago from Emberlynn and never returned. She also snagged her dancing slippers from the festival which Emberlynn left in her room to apparently have darned and fixed because Maren insisted on wearing them again for a reason she would not disclose. She slipped them onto her feet, grateful that they protected her from the mercilessly cold marble floors. She threw on the jacket next and rubbed her arms for extra warmth. White puffs of frost still left her lips as she breathed aloud.

She tiptoed to the nightstand, pulling the drawer back to reveal the mirror. Grabbing it, she yearned to hold it up to her face. She had not seen her reflection since the ball. What could she look like now? Yet, before she could indulge, the echo of a door closing near hers snapped her out of the thought.

Vernice.

Fastening the jacket tighter around her frame, she took one last look at her room and darted to the door. She wished she'd have found a bag to carry more things in, but a coat, a pair of shoes, and a relic would have to do. The corridor outside of her room was nearly pitch black until her eyes adjusted. Blue torches on the wall illuminated the tattered carpet and neglected chambers. It also bathed Vernice in an eerily sinister turquoise glow.

The other girl did not seem bothered by the cold even though she wore only her nightgown. Her bare feet made indents in the dusty floor as she hugged Maren.

"We can do it," she whispered. "Don't be afraid."

Maren hugged her back, breathing her in. "We have to be careful of the masked man."

"Where do you think he could be?" Vernice asked, pulling away.

"Anywhere."

"But so can Namjoon or any of the other attendants. We might have to fend somebody off but it makes no difference."

"But it does make a difference!" Maren lowered her voice, not daring to look over her shoulder at who or what might have heard. "He is different. Stronger than anything I've seen. Larger, too!"

Vernice frowned. "If we had to could we kill him?"

Maren shook her head and shrugged her shoulders at the same time. There was no way to tell. And even if they could, what would they use?

"Okay, let's not stress ourselves out," Vernice commanded. "We take this one step at a time. Give me the mirror."

Maren flinched, yanking the mirror away. "What?"

"Give it to me. Not because I want it, but because I am your best chance of getting it safely out of this palace." Vernice extended a hand.

Maren retreated a step. "You're going to find your brother. The mirror has nothing to do with it!"

"I know, Penelope, but you ought to trust me! I was the one that got it for you, why would I covet it now?"

Maren stomped her foot. "Don't call me by that name!"

Vernice gathered herself, taking a deep breath before grinning. "Fine. We don't have time for this. I understand your reluctance to let it go, but if you feel like you'll need both of your hands to fight, toss it to me and I'll hand it right back when we finish."

"We won't need to fight anyone if we're fast," Maren countered, tucking the mirror to her chest and rushing down the hallway. Vernice followed her trail, whispering curses for her to be more cautious.