Flame in the Palace

17. Bargain

When Myria blinks to awareness, there are two faces. First, Emiri hovers above her. Blink. Then it's a new face, not quite so familiar, shrouded in darkness. She struggles to focus on it.

Blink. Emiri is talking to someone. His voice is raised, but Myria cannot make out his words.

Blink. The other face replaces Emiri's. They whisper, and when their lips move, their dark color reminds Myria of another vision. She strains against the exhaustion that keeps her limbs in place, trying to focus on this new face.

Blink. She feels herself moving in Emiri's arms, and when her head falls back against a pillow, it turns, allowing her a glimpse of her aunt and cousin. Their faces are twisted in alarm and anger. Myria frowns, wanting them to calm down, but she does not have the energy to speak. Her eyes flutter close, this time her mind drifting to oblivion.

Eventually, muffled voices pull her awake. When Myria opens her eyes, she is in a shadowy room not familiar to Dawnmourne Keep. Her brain sluggishly works through an explanation when the previous voices sharpen into focus.

It seems unlikely, hisses a man's voice, dripping with venom.

It would be unwise not to investigate, replies a composed female.

Myria's eyes strain against the darkness, and the voices' two silhouettes blink into view. The woman's white hair stands out in the dark, the same style Myria had seen before in a previous vision. She holds her breath, listening intently.

The man is obviously not pleased with the woman's judgment; he huffs, stalking around the room in angry paces. He does not, however, argue with her further.

This elicits a soft chuckle from her at his reaction. We must all play our part, whether we like it or not.

I think we would be better served without wasting our time on fruitless endeavors.

The woman turns around to face the man until her eyes seem to lock onto Myria's. Her mouth parts into a slow, deliberate, and sinister smile. I think we are closer to our goals than we realize.

Myria's heart leaps into her throat as she scrambles away from the woman, throwing her arms in the air. Someone grabs onto them, wrestling them to her sides.

"Myria, it's me!"

She stops struggling to see Geffrey before her. Olympe hovers nearby, the same concern twisting her features.

"I—" Myria struggles for a bit, chest heaving as she realizes she's back in her room at Dawnmourne Keep. She swallows past a dry lump in her throat. "Where is Emiri?"

Geffrey exchanges a glance with Olympe, who nods at him in return. "He brought you here after your lesson. He said you overextended yourself with a spell."

Myria blinks, thinking about the illusion she cast and how quickly it had drained all of her energy, even though she had not maintained it for very long. And for what? To keep Emiri from walking away? But the answer goes deeper than that, and the realization makes her face flush scarlet. "It was a mistake," she says quickly. "I was trying to show off."

Geffrey shares another skeptical look with Olympe, and Myria wonders how much Emiri told them. In truth, she hadn't tried to show off; she just had an overwhelming desire to prove herself and pushed her limits more than she should have."

"It doesn't matter now," Olympe says. "Emiri was required elsewhere. The duchess is preparing her final event for the court before we leave."

"And before that—" Geff intervenes. "We need to talk about this alliance with House Nocturnus." His face inclines meaningfully.