BTS: A Court of Embers

16: Of Smoke and Granite

The table was easy to find if one followed the trail of harp and polite musing through the tangle of shrubs that hugged the cobblestone path. Her fingers grazed the hanging hydrangeas, glad that the hedges gave her enough shade and cover to still wonder if she ought to turn back. She had left the volume of fae history on a reading table in the library, but she had shelved the thought of night skies and granted wishes for later. Even now, in this segment of the garden, she wondered how far she would have been had she taken Jimin's offer right then and there.

The courtier told her he would stay with her until she decided. He rearranged the meaning of her curse to a perspective laden with exploration and adventure. But as much as that made her blood rush, it struck a chord deep in her sense of peace. Not once had she imagined that her feet be planted to this castle, but her inability to be reckless cast light on something else.

It was not the splendor of her room, the meals, the luxury of the palace. Neither was it her attendant or the advisor. As she stepped into the clearing that exposed her to a wrought silver gazebo, she looked the reason in the eye.

His Highness had been in the middle of lifting a forkful of fruit to his mouth until he went still as stone. Genevieve trailed his line of focus to Maren, the other women taking her lead. Adelia, Celeste, Laurel, Blaire, Jeanette, and Kathleen provided little comfort with dead silence. Only Lyra smiled encouragingly, sitting a hair straighter.

Maren took a second to acknowledge her friend with a tight grin before examining the Prince once more. Surprisingly, one seat remained at the opposite end of the table as a testament to how the women clambered to be near him. She did not even let herself entertain the thought that it had been left for her eventual charmed return to their party.

A servant left his post to pour tea into her teacup and inquire for special requests. Maren politely gave her order. "Good morning, everyone."

The Prince measured her, eyes roving over her white gown and floral crown--a diplomatic move from Emberlynn. His gentle voice was considerate and welcoming, but his demeanor was guarded with one hand gracefully picking up the stem of his glass and the other gripping the armrest. If one were not aware of the tie between them, the wariness would almost be imperceptible. "Well met, Maren. I am relieved to see you again."

She grabbed a croissant from one of the main dishes, ogling the sugarcoated fruit that she knew to be her favorite for picking next. "Did you think me too weak to return?"

"No. Your resilience is one of your strengths."

"I didn't realize you were observant of my strengths as well, Your Highness."

She took a bite of her croissant, the memory of being verbally cut to her ankles more pressing than ever being built up.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Lyra had missed his gesture entirely. "You look lovely today, Maren. Healthier, too."

The other women nodded, likely imagining a sickly, pale, hollowed version of her withering away in the four-poster bed.

"Your dress makes you look like an angel," said Adelia. Her light blond hair had pinned into an intricate chignon, her green eyes taking in Maren with the proper amount of kindness doled to a stranger. Celeste said nothing as she passively looked over her and back onto her plate.

Genevieve cut into her meat. "I would say more like a snowflake."

"Well that isn't fair," said Jeanette, who propped her head up with a hand onto the table. "She would melt here."

"We're all melting here," Kathleen voiced. She was the only one at the table with a lace fan and a sleeveless dress. "I must admit, where I live in the north is harsh and elevated. I haven't adapted to the climate quite yet." To Seokjin, she said, "How warm does it get in the height of summer?"