The room catches me off guard. For one, it is untouched by the battle outside, an oddly peaceful island amongst the horror ruling the rest of the castle. For another, it is dazzling.
If the place I first stepped off the ladder into had been bright, this must be like staring into the sun. From the walls to the ceiling to the curious fur my feet sink into, everything is purest white. Even the branched crystalline candles hanging from above, their flames flickering and lively, seem to cast a white glow. All that breaks the blinding pale sheet are the laces of gold, framing the huge white cloth I presume hides a window at the left wall and twirling extravagant patterns high into the domed ceiling. When I peer more closely at them, I realise that they resemble birds, with wings outstretched as they glide.
Unlike the rooms we passed on the way here, which were filled with all manner of furniture and, on occasion, hung weaponry, this one is nearly empty. Yet there is one object that snatches my attention. A seat, large enough to tower over me and built of solid white stone, with curves wide but delicately formed. It radiates power, and I feel as if I shrink beneath it.
The effect is somewhat ruined, however, by the woman draped within its dip. Her legs dangle over one side, boots kicking lazily at air, while her head reclines in the seat’s right corner. With one hand, she toys with an uneven strand of hair, though it barely reaches her shoulders, while the other taps at the handle of a sword that rests before her in the seat. If she were wearing armour like the captain, I doubt such a relaxed position would have been possible, but her attire is different. Though she wears armour of identical colouring, it is more trimmed, as if molded to fit her form exactly.
“Kid.” The captain is beside me, jolting my gaze from her. “Do exactly what I tell you,” he mutters. “And nothing else. Otherwise you will get your wish, and you’ll be back in that cell in an instant.”
He straightens before I can answer, but I nod to him, swallowing my uncertainty.
Stepping forwards, he bows briefly. “General Velez. I bring you… a proposition.”
Her eyes fix on him, sparkling in the plentiful light. “Harlow.” A slow smile weaves its way across her face. “My favourite captain. I’ve told you before, you are welcome to call me Giulia.”
Her voice has an odd flow to it, seamless like the gentle course of a stream, yet it holds the rough edge of pebbles hidden beneath. The captain barely reacts. “In the interest of formality, I prefer to stick to your title, General.” He tilts his head sideways. “Or perhaps Queen, considering your current position. I take it you’ve chosen to claim the Oscensi throne?”
She giggles, a playful ripple in the waters, and swings her legs forward. “I’d sooner slit my own throat than rule this drab little kingdom. Just having a little fun, is all.” In one movement, she grips her sword and hops from the seat, landing softly on her toes. “You can have a turn, if you like.”
“No, thank you.” I’m surprised that he manages to keep his voice free of impatience. “General Velez, I want you to meet a prisoner I found beneath the basement.”
He flicks a hand at me, and her eyes follow. Automatically, I edge backwards, but she approaches anyway, her walk almost like a dance in the way she skips from one step to the next.
Thankfully, she stops a couple of paces away, though the way her stare sweeps across my face awakens my flame regardless. I hide my hand, letting a few flickers slip over my fingers before forcing them down again.
“Beneath the basement?” she remarks. She doesn’t look away from me, but the question is clearly directed at Harlow. “A little extreme.”
“I thought so too, at first,” he murmurs. I glance over at him, and notice his eyes also drill into me. I remember his words on our entrance, and do my best to remain still, despite the way my pulse burns with trapped fire.
“Especially for a boy,” she adds, taking another small step forward. I flinch. “How old is he? Fourteen? I knew this place was abysmal, but… hm.” Her eyes lock onto mine. “Not the most handsome, is he? Awfully pale, and those eyes are ghastly.”
My breath hitches. I can’t recall what my eyes look like, but it shouldn’t surprise me that they are unpleasant. The comment shouldn’t sting.
Finally, she looks back at Harlow, and I almost heave a sigh of relief. “An odd little find, though, Harlow. Maybe I’ll keep him around as my errand boy.”
She makes to turn away, but he advances on her, his gaze firm. “That’s not all, General.” While she frowns at him quizzically, he glances at me, offering a nod. “Go on, kid. Show her what you can do.”
My eyes widen. “You want me to--”
“No, no, of course not,” he says hurriedly, reading my expression. “Just the fire.”
I nod. That is safe, at least. If anything, the invitation is a burden from my shoulders. Bringing my hands forward, I let the nerves thrumming through me break free, emerging as licks of black flame. I hope it isn’t obvious how good it feels: the cooling delight of letting the power I kept imprisoned within me finally run loose across my palms.
To my further relief, General Velez moves back. A little of her confidence peels away along with her smile, though I can tell she is trying not to let it show. Her hand tightens on her sword hilt.
“An odd little find indeed,” she murmurs.
I concentrate on weaving the fire around my wrist, stripping away my fear with each spark, and soon I find myself meeting her eyes. This time, she flinches.
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