BTS: A Court of Embers

4: Into the Wild

If she thought the art pieces at the ball were spectacles, she could do nothing but stare with a dropped jaw at the magnitude of these. They were the height of three of her, mounted on cavernous frames with bouquets of red wildflowers spilling off the ends of decorative tables beneath. Chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, but unlike the ones from Maren's world, the lights in these burned with a flickering orange wisp of fire. Hundreds of miniature flames suspended in the air.

It was more than beautiful. It was magnificent. Excellent. Immaculate. She was caught in a sensory overload as well as an intellectual stupor, the questions piling and piling like a tower of books prepped to topple over. However, she'd heard that the Fae were ones to say much in response without telling anything at all. They offered humans breadcrumbs of truth to make their own mortal trails and get lost at wit's end. She wondered if it was true about them not being able to lie.

Yet, there was no counter to that sort of intellectual prowess without resolve. She was not going to be their pet or their slave. Surely, not their lover. She vowed not to fall drunk on proclamations as dizzying as wine, as sensual as a partner's ragged whisper. If she would be careful, she could gain ground. Not wanting to tap Namjoon on the shoulder, she decided to just speak.

"Are you the prince?"

She could feel Namjoon smirking even with his back turned. "No. What gave you that impression?"

She said, "It made sense when I grabbed your hand. You were the servant, the crying girl, and the injured man in the forest. You told me I passed four tests. Those encounters must have been part of this test, then."

It took him a second to respond, their muted footsteps filling in the silence. Then Namjoon nodded almost imperceptibly. "You are correct."

"You can shift forms then. But what you cannot change are your dimples."

"True, to an extent."

"What extent?"

As though contemplating something, he looked as if he'd peer at her over his shoulder but opted for the ground instead, not quite meeting her eyes. He became serious, his voice low to resist an echo in the high ceilings. "You have a curious nature. I will keep that in mind."

Cryptic, but not enough to discourage her. "Since you're answering them, I want to ask."

"If I didn't answer?" He turned back around, walking haughtily a few paces ahead.

"I might still ask."

"And if I took my sword and pointed it at your heart, or if I threatened to burn you, would you persist?"

Maren slowed her walking, gazing warily at his hands as if she might see through the back of his thick cloak. Was that a threat? "Well, of course not. I don't mean to pry, I was just wondering if what I thought held any weight."

They arrived at a platform where four sets of wide stairs met. He led her down the one to her right winding to a lower level.

"I am not bothered by questions. I only wondered if you cared about this information more than you care about your life. It would have said something different about your character. However, the four tests I referred to were beauty, bravery, compassion, and humility.

"A lady would need compassion to approach a crying stranger or a hurt man. She would need humility to encourage that crying stranger, or to kneel before he who is injured and denounce the importance of her life in exchange for him receiving help."

Maren nodded as she listened. He continued, "Bravery accounts for your appearance. Humans are so misguided in their understanding of others not similar to them. They fabricate realities and fantasies, projecting those stories onto what they cannot comprehend. Many women were too afraid to come. You, however, came in your own free will."