Embers to Flames (Fates Entwined #1)

Chapter Thirteen

Draped in an emerald silk robe, I sit on a plush stool, my bare feet sinking into the soft carpet while the world outside prepares for the Gala. Lenna’s deft fingers work through my hair, braiding and weaving until it’s a cascading waterfall of intricate twists and spirals, studded with tiny star gems that twinkle gently in the candlelight. Ava is by my side, her fingers dancing across my skin applying a subtle shimmering powder that makes me gleam like the moonlit night.

A dress had appeared hours earlier, courtesy of Theo’s magic. It now delicately hangs before me, suspended from a simple hook on the wall. Its vibrant colors and intricate stitching beckon to be touched and worn. The shade of red it materialized in is deep and ardent—the color of blood as it pulses through a heart filled with love or perhaps fear—both sentiments not unfamiliar to me these days. The material is as dainty as a spider’s silk and its design seems to mold perfectly to my curves, only to cascade into layers of ruffles at my hips before gracefully falling to the floor in a mesmerizing whirl. Twinkling beads embellish the bodice, replicating the ones in my hair.

I feel as though I am to be draped in summer’s last sunset, caught between two worlds; one where I am but a fragile Human girl standing on the precipice of an elven fantasy, and another where I command attention in this unforgiving world with an allure that even nature would envy.

“Are you ready, Rosanhi?” Lenna asks as she adds the finishing touches to my hair.

I meet her gaze in the mirror—a reflection that seemed more like a stranger than myself blinked back at us—and nodded. “I think so,” I murmured.

“Then why don’t you look more excited?”

I give her an ashamed smile as I reach up and allow my fingers to brush against the soft fabric of the dress. “I’m not exactly… experienced… with all of this,” I confess, gesturing to my richly appareled self.

Lenna chuckles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Don’t worry!” She reassures me, standing from her stool and holding out her hands as an invitation for me to stand as well. “You’ll be with Theo the entire time. You were invited by the high lords of Quillyan for God’s sake… I can think of no one more deserving for a night like this.”

“I suppose I’m just… nervous,” I confess, my gaze flickering back to the dress that hung like a beautiful dream.

“Nervous?” Lenna echoes with a soft chuckle. “Whatever for? Their gazes will be on you for sure, but not because you are Human… but because you are magnificently gorgeous.”

I let out a sigh and rise delicately from my stool. Lenna assists me with the dress; it slides over my skin like a lover’s touch, settling onto my body as though it truly was made just for me. It feels as ethereal as it looks—like wearing moonlight or starlight or even twilight—it’s a feeling that I can’t quite put into words.

Ava holds out a delicate pair of shoes made from what appears to be crystal with woven gold threads. They shimmer beautifully under the candlelight as I slip them onto my feet—their cool insides curling around my toes.

Feeling complete now, I turn towards the mirror again. The transformation is breathtaking; I barely recognize myself. Gone is Rosanhi the servant and in her place stands an angel draped in red—the color of both love and war.

The grand hall sparkles with magic, the opulent ceiling shimmering as if mirroring an open night sky; stars twinkling sporadically. The room is filled with Elves in varying hues of colored robes, their laughter sounding like chimes in the wind as they drink and dance.

In one corner stands a long table laden with delicacies unlike anything I have seen before—fruits that glow like gemstones, pastries that emit sweet fragrance clouds and goblets filled with liquid gold.

Yet amidst all this splendor, my eyes are instinctively drawn to Theo. He stands by his father’s side, laughing at something Lord Ailwin is saying. As he turns his gaze towards me, our eyes lock and I feel a jolt rush through me. The smile he offers is so full of warmth that it must have lit up my face in response.

He excuses himself from the conversation and moves towards me, weaving effortlessly through the crowd until he stands just inches away.

“You look… breathtaking, Rosanhi,” he says softly, his eyes drinking in my appearance as if I am the most enchanting piece of art in the room.

His praise warms me far more than any roaring hearth ever could, and I find myself bubbling with a mixture of giddy delight and nervous anticipation. “Thank you,” I manage to say, my heart pounding in my chest.

Theo offers out his hand towards me. “May I have this dance?” His voice is gentle, the question hanging between us like a promise .

I place my hand in his, feeling an electric charge surge through our connected skin—reminding me of the first time we met. “I’d love to.”

We step onto the dance floor, my crimson gown billowing around me like a flame in the night and the world around us seems to blur into insignificance. All that matters is Theo.

The music swells and our bodies begin to move in rhythm as I allow myself to be swept away by the magic of the night.

A cunning voice slices through the melody. “Might I cut in?” The words sting like ice against my heated skin. I turn to see the speaker—Prince Ruvyn, cloaked in regal attire of midnight blue and silver, eyes gleaming with amusement. His lips curled into a smirk that bore no warmth as it stretched across his handsome face.

The dance hall seemed to hold its breath as Theo’s grip on me tightened ever so slightly. Yet, political protocol has already choked us both into silence before Ruvyn even spoke. With an apologetic glance in my direction, Theo stiffly withdrew his hand from mine. “Of course, Your Grace,” his words coated with reluctance.

Ruvyn takes my hand without hesitation and pulls me close. I look over his shoulder as I watch Theo back away and feel a sharp pang of longing for his warmth.

“You know, Rosanhi, no matter how enchanting you look tonight, you will always be an outsider in our world. A Human can never truly belong among Elves.” His voice drips with condescension as he speaks .

I meet his cold and unyielding gaze, refusing to be intimidated. Respectfully, with a smile and a hint of snark, I respond. “And yet here I am, dancing with the Prince of Elves. Perhaps your world isn’t as elusive as you think.”

He smirks, a hint of challenge in his expression. “Dancing with me doesn’t change your nature. You are still bound by human limitations—by human frailty.”

I lift my chin, my voice steady. “Maybe it’s my humanity that makes me stronger. We Humans have a resilience that even Elves could learn from.”

“Resilience, perhaps,” he concedes mockingly. “But strength alone won’t grant you acceptance.”

“Acceptance isn’t given, it’s earned. And I intend to earn it, no matter what obstacles you place in my path,” I declare.

He leans in closer, his voice a low whisper. “We’ll see, Rosanhi. The elven world is not kind to those who don’t belong.” He holds my gaze, “You are playing a dangerous game. One misstep, and you could lose everything.”

I lean in, my voice just as low. “I’ve already lost everything once. Fear has no power over someone who has nothing left to lose.”

“There is always something more to lose,” he bites back.

Our dance comes to an end not soon enough, and Ruvyn releases me, though not without a final parting shot. “Remember what you’ve said tonight,” he murmurs so only I can hear. “You might find yourself having to prove it. ”

With that, Ruvyn strides away, leaving me alone in the center of the dance floor. The melody comes to a haunting close, the notes echoing in the grand hall as silence descends upon the gathered crowd.

Theo reappears at my side, “everything alright?” he asks softly.

“Never better,” I reply evenly but without conviction.

The clinking sound of silver against crystal penetrates the thick quietness as King Varitan rises from his throne. The murmurs cease instantly, replaced by an expectant hush. His deep-set eyes rake over his courtiers before finally resting on me in subtle acknowledgment.

“They say, every half-century, we must remember who we are, why we are here… why we continue to persist.” His voice, echoing through the vast archways of the hall, is filled with a resounding authority that commands attention.

“Our history tells us stories of fire and ice, of love and loss, of great triumphs and greater sacrifices,” he pauses for effect, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling on me. “The Fire Rites remind us of our journey from the ashes to this hallowed throne. It is a testament to our will, a testament to our power... our right to exist.”

The King’s voice carries on, “We gather to celebrate life, love, and unity. We remember the sacrifices made by those before us so that we may live in peace. Every fifty years, the High Lords of Quillyan gather for an age-old ceremony entwined with destiny and hope. For when the Gods should allow, a chosen one will be revealed, a beacon of light that will guide us into an era of peace and prosperity for our kingdom.”

He pauses momentarily, taking a long-lasting gaze in my direction, “Our lands have seen strife. Strife between our own kind and our Human neighbors. But today I stand before you with renewed hope. With the grace of the Gods, I plead with you all to beg them for the revelation of our sovereign chosen one this half-century so that we may mend what has been severed and forge new bonds with not only our own kin but with the Humans as well.” His voice is resonant with sincerity, every syllable steeped in conviction.

The crowd erupts into thunderous applause at the King’s impassioned speech. Around me, the sea of Elves clap their slender hands together in an appreciative rhythm. The celebration quickly transitions into a grand feast. The room itself pulsates with life and vigor.

I devour the feast with unbridled enthusiasm, each mouthful a revelation of flavors I’ve never experienced. Theo catches my eye, his lips quirked in amusement.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

I nod, swallowing a bite of something delightfully sweet. “As always, the Elves outdo themselves,” I say, my tone light. “I’m just happy I get to finally eat some of it instead of just serving it.”

Theo chuckles. “You know us too well; we do have our moments. ”

I smirk, setting down my fork. “Moments? More like every other day. Elves are spoiled.”

“Guilty as charged,” he replies with a wink. “But don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at my lips. Theo’s gaze lingers on me, warm and affectionate, sending a flutter through my chest that has nothing to do with the feast.

As if on cue, the musicians begin their symphony of strings and flutes, their melody reverberating in the grand hall. My heart beats in time with each note, a steady rhythm that escalates as Theo extends his hand towards me for another dance.

The hours slip by unnoticed as we continue to sway under a sky painted with stars. His hands never leave my waist, his eyes never stray from mine. The warmth between us seems to stretch out, filling the air with a potent mixture of desire and understanding.

We dance as one until dawn breaks, leaving my legs trembling as we walk in silence—but a comfortable one—back to my chambers. Outside my room, he turns to me, his gaze intense. Slowly, he leans in until he finally places a soft kiss on my lips, gentle yet passionate, full of longing and promise. My heart beats erratically against my ribcage as I wrap my arms around him, deepening the kiss. His taste is intoxicating—a mix of sweet wine and something uniquely him.

We pull apart to catch our breaths, I feel an overwhelming urge to invite him in—to taste him again and surrender myself completely. But fatigue washes over me—relentless and overpowering. Despite my physical desire for him, I am too tired to do anything more than bid him goodnight.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Theo. Your company has brought me great comfort.”

A subtle smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he meets my gaze with a hint of longing. “The pleasure was all mine, my lady. I would gladly dance with you through the night once more, if given the chance,” he declares, his voice filled with sincerity.

I feel a surge of emotions welling up inside me, a mix of desire and affection that I struggle to contain. “Perhaps we shall have another opportunity to dance under the stars,” I muse, a soft smile playing on my lips.

Theo’s eyes light up with hope as he nods in agreement. “I look forward to that moment, my sweet lady. Until then, may your dreams be as enchanting as you have been tonight.” I watch as his silhouette fades into the shadows of the castle hallway.

Alone in my chambers, I sink into the plush cushions of my bed, replaying the evenings events in my mind. The taste of Theo’s mouth lingers on my lips, igniting a fire within me that refuses to be extinguished. Sleep slowly claims me, and I drift into dreams filled with starlit dances and whispered promises.