A Shadow in the Ember (Flesh and Fire 1)

“As if I have a choice.” He threw the lock and opened the door.

Princess Ezmeria stood at the top of the narrow stairwell, her light brown hair swept back in a bun at the nape of her neck. Even though it was sweltering in the tower and most likely no better outside, she wore a black, pinstriped short waistcoat over an ivory and cream gown made of the same lightweight cotton. Ezra always seemed immune to the heat and humidity.

“Thank you.” She smiled as she nodded at an exasperated Sir Holland. Her features were similar to Tavius’s, but her brown eyes held a keen sharpness, and her jaw had a stubborn hardness that Tavius lacked. “It is good to see you, Sir Holland.”

Sir Holland pinned her with a look of utter impassivity. “It is good to see you, Your Grace.”

“What do you need?” I asked as I took the iron blade from Sir Holland, sheathing it.

“Many things,” she replied. “One of those chocolate scones Orlano makes when he’s in a good mood would be lovely. Along with cooled tea. A good book that isn’t misery fiction, which begs the question—why do the curators of the city Atheneum think any of us wants to read things that only depress us?” she asked, rocking back on her heeled slippers as Sir Holland rubbed at his brow. “I’m also in need of an end to this drought—oh, and peace among the kingdoms.” Ezra smiled widely as she slid an amused glance at Sir Holland. “But right now, the Ladies of Mercy and I are in need of your assistance, Sera.”

Sir Holland lowered his hand, frowning as he looked at me. “What would the Ladies at the orphanage need from you?”

“Her ability to borrow excess food from the kitchens without anyone noticing,” Ezra answered smoothly. “With the influx of recently parentless children, their cupboards are rather bare.”

I stiffened just a fraction. Suspicion clouded Sir Holland’s features. My ability to do just as Ezra claimed had come in handy quite frequently. I often took whatever leftover food I could scrounge from the kitchens to the Cliffs of Sorrow, where the old fortress had been converted into the largest orphanage in Carsodonia. Still, even as big as it was, the orphanage hemorrhaged with those orphaned by death or abandoned by parents who could not or would no longer care for them. But Ezra had never once come to me for that. I turned to him. “I will see you tomorrow morning?”

His eyes had narrowed, but he nodded. I didn’t linger to give him time to start asking questions.

“Have a good day, Sir Holland,” Ezra said as she stepped aside, allowing me to exit the tower.

Dust danced in the streaks of sunlight seeping through the arrow slits in the walls of the tower as we made our way down to the third floor, where my bedchambers were located among the row of empty chambers. We didn’t speak until we stepped into the narrow hall. Ezra turned to me, keeping her voice low, even though it was unlikely that anyone was around to overhear us. “You should probably change your clothing.” Her gaze flickered over the loose tunic I wore. “Something a little more…suitable for where we must travel.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Exactly what am I assisting you with?”

“Well…” Ezra dipped her chin toward mine, standing close but not close enough to touch me. I pretended not to notice how she made sure her skin didn’t come into contact with mine. “I received a letter from Lady Sunders regarding a child—a young girl named Ellie—that just came under her guardianship, courtesy of one of the Mistresses of the Jade.”

I frowned in surprise. “What was a young girl doing with the Mistresses?” The only reason Jade had even been willing to discuss the things involved in the act of seduction with me was because she believed I was far older than sixteen. Even then, with the veil obscuring my features, I saw that she had been suspicious, even though others were married at that age. “That is not like them—”

“It’s not. One of the women who works for them found the poor girl in an alley. She had a blackened eye among numerous other injuries, as well as being undernourished. Ellie’s healing,” Ezra quickly added. “Lady Sunders says that the child’s mother died many years ago, and her father had lost his source of income. She believes the child’s father was once a laborer at one of the farms that fell to the Rot.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I murmured because it felt like I needed to say something, even though there was nothing to be said.

“I wouldn’t feel too sorry for the father. It appears that he enjoyed spending his money on liquor more than food, long before he lost his job as a harvester.” Ezra’s lips tightened. “Lady Sunders got the impression that the mother’s death may not have been a natural one, but the kind aided by the father’s heavy fists.”