BTS: A Court of Embers

14: Upon Reflection

"I did," Maren whispered. "Funny running into you at this time of night."

Only slightly bemused, Emberlynn raised an eyebrow. "Is everything all right?"

Maren's stomach answered for her. Blood rushed to the girl's cheeks, her eyes immediately falling to her feet. "I'm sorry."

Emberlynn clicked her tongue. "I'm just glad you are alright. I was afraid you would never move," she said, moving to hold her tray by the bottom rather than by the handles. "I can't fire up the ovens this late, but I am sure I can get you something delicious. If you wait for me in the dining room, I'll be right there."

Maren grabbed her shoulder before she could take off. "It's okay. That's selfish of me to make you work this late. You should head to bed."

"Nonsense," Emberlynn replied, tilting her shoulders so that Maren's hand fell off. "I... have knowledge that your stay has been tough, to say the least. It is the least I can do."

"Emberlynn, I'll be fine. I'm sure the Prince would prefer if I didn't eat anyway."

She opened her mouth to speak, then shut it to grin politely. "I will be twenty minutes or less," she said. At last, she went away.

Maren hadn't realized she'd been on the brink of tears until one slipped down her cheek. More came. She didn't stop them. She gave herself these stolen moments to release her exhaustion from the past few days and to feel what deprivation of a meal did to the soul. She was drained from head to toe, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally. A seat at the dining table would be good. Perhaps that would be the next place she would not leave.

Plus, the irony of it all... only a while ago she would have been just fine with not eating, eager to stay out of others' way, used to deprivation. Since when had she actively began to advocate for what she wanted?

Not caring to wipe her face, she barreled into the dining room. At night, the grand room was an enigma. Black, veined marble made up the floor. The colossal walls were dark and tall. The three fireplaces simmered a deep blue hue, their essence not radiating enough heat to warm the entire room. The dining table was just as long as it normally was with a white tablecloth coating the exterior. Gothic candelabras lined the center, their cerulean flames bathing empty table places in teal. The chandeliers overhead were dim as well, but they were still crystal.

The series of windows to the right opened Maren's eyes to the garden below. Black, gnarled trees jutted from grey earth like obsidian fingers. The silver bushes giving life to dire roses were dead, the withered black petals drifting slowly from thorny silver stems. The ash rain was soft tonight. A bit more like snow than a storm. Fresh, grey snow that buried everything dead and everything fighting to live too.

"You need a bath."

Maren halted, tracing the origin of that familiar voice to the corner behind her left shoulder. Slowly, she turned her head until she saw him. His black hair hung over his black, cynical eyes. His full lips were not curled into disdain, but by the tone of his voice they should have been. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and his foot kicked up like he'd been staring through the windows ahead until she waltzed in to block his view. There were no feathers. He was his normal size. But the difference in him was pronounced. Loud.

Fae noses were sensitive, that much she knew. But she hadn't realized how sensitive. She also never anticipated running into anyone that would care. For a brief second, she thought of whether Emberlynn caught a scent of her demoralizing three day vacation, and she did not let herself think of it again. She knew better than this.

Ignoring him, she stalked to the other side of the table, avoiding her signature seat because of his proximity. She chose a seat at the very edge of the other side instead.