A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

I did not remotely like the sound of that. “Because mortals are at the bottom of the pecking order?”

“You know the answer to that.”

My lips thinned. “Nice.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “And I hope you know that I also don’t believe that—not as some do.”

I did and I wished I didn’t because if he truly viewed mortals as beneath him, it would make what I had to do easier. “Why, as a grown woman who has been introduced as your Consort, would I need an escort?” I questioned.

“Why, as a grown woman, would you enter residences without making sure they were empty first?” he countered.

My hands curled into fists. “You bring that up as if it were some sort of habit.”

“Is it not?”

“No.”

The look he sent me said that he greatly doubted that. “Whether or not that is a dangerous, reckless habit of yours, you are not familiar with the city or its inhabitants, and they are not familiar with you. And while most Primals and gods know better than to harm a Consort, some simply do not follow the rules or have common decency.”

“Is it a rule? To not harm a Consort?”

He nodded. “It is.”

“And has that rule been broken?”

“Only once,” he answered. I started to ask who, but he continued. “The next agreement—”

“There’s more?” I snapped.

“Oh, yes, there are more,” he replied.

I glared at him. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“There are times when I may have…visitors. Guests who I would not want to be around you,” he said. “Those times can be unexpected.”

My jaw began to ache from how tightly I clenched it.

“But when they occur, you are to return to your chambers and remain there until one of my guards or I retrieve you.”

I stiffened. None of his rules should bother me. My mother would insist that this was one of the moments that called for complete submission. And, surely, if I simply went along with these rules, it would aid me in my duty. But my skin tightened in a way that wasn’t at all pleasant. I’d spent a lifetime living behind a veil, even when I was no longer required to wear one. Hidden away, seemingly ashamed of. Forgotten.

“Why does this make you…sad?” Ash asked.

My head snapped toward him as I whispered, “What?”

His chin had tilted again. “You feel sad.”

“I feel annoyed—”

“Yes, that, too. But you also feel—”

“I don’t.” My stomach dipped. “You’re not reading my emotions, are you?” When he said nothing, anger shot through me like an arrow. “I thought you said you don’t do that.”

“I try not to. But, apparently, my guard was down, and what you felt was like a…” He appeared to search for a word as I silently screamed. “I couldn’t block it out.”

The breath I sucked in was shrill. I didn’t want him knowing that what he said had made me sad. I didn’t want anyone to know that. “There are more rules?”

“Not exactly a rule,” he said after a long moment. “But we must discuss your coronation as Consort.”

My stomach tumbled a bit. I didn’t know why it made me nervous, but it did. “When will that take place?”

“In a fortnight.”

Two weeks. Gods. I swallowed as I crossed my arms over my waist. “And what does that entail?”

“It will be like a celebration,” he said. “High-ranking gods will come from other Courts. Possibly even Primals. You will be crowned before them.” His gaze flickered over me. “I will have a seamstress from Lethe come to fit you for an appropriate gown.”

I tensed. “It’d better look nothing like that wedding gown.”

“I have no intention of displaying you to the entirety of my Court and all others within Iliseeum,” he replied, and there was no denying the relief I felt. “And she will also be able to outfit you with a wardrobe.”

Nodding, my thoughts raced forward. “Will I…?” I took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “Will I be Ascended like the Chosen are upon being found worthy?”

Shadows rippled just beneath his skin. It happened so fast that I thought I’d imagined it. “What do you know about the act of Ascension, liessa?”

I lifted my shoulder. “Not much beyond the Primal of Life granting the Chosen eternal life.”

His features tightened and then smoothed out. “And how do you think one Ascends?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “The secret of the act is highly guarded.”

Faint wisps of eather seeped into his eyes. “The act of Ascension requires a mortal’s blood to be drained from their body and replaced by that of a Primal or god. It is not always a successful transition,” he said, and I thought of what I had learned of the godlings and their Culling. “But those who are Chosen are born in a shroud. They already carry some mark—some essence of the gods—in their blood. It allows them to complete the Ascension if it were to occur.”