Aurelia stepped out of her room..though to call it a room felt like a generous lie. It was more a forgotten tower, a relic of the past that no one ventured near anymore.
The air was colder here, far from the warmth of the hearths that lit the rest of Emberhold Castle. Still, her feet moved, one trembling step at a time.
Her heart thundered with a rhythm only she could hear, fierce and fast. Her palms were slick with nervous sweat.
The hem of her plain grey gown brushed the stone steps as she descended. She kept her eyes low, but she could still feel the flickers of candlelight on her marred skin, the soft tremble in her reflection whenever she passed a polished suit of armor or glass pane.
Her disfigured face, had become her shield and her prison. She had learned long ago to hide herself behind lowered lashes and silence.
Behind her, Gwen followed in quiet support, her steps a few paces behind, as always. Gwen never pushed or rushed her. She knew when Aurelia needed the quiet.
"Almost there, my lady," Gwen said softly.
Aurelia gave the slightest nod. "It feels like a longer walk than it is."
"It always does when your heart's carrying weight," Gwen replied.
Aurelia said nothing. But Gwen's words found a home in the hollow space in her chest.
As they entered the more populated halls of the castle, the sounds changed. The scrape of booted feet slowed. Whispers curled through the air like smoke, seeping into the marrow of her bones.
"Is that her?"
"Gods, I nearly forgot how awful she looks."
"She still lives in that tower, doesn't she?"
"Should've sent her to a convent years ago or dragged her to caelmont."
Aurelia flinched inwardly. Her face remained hidden beneath her hood, her eyes fixed on the golden-threaded tapestry ahead. She didn't falter in her stride. Not this time. Not today.
Gwen edged closer, stepping slightly between her mistress and the gawking maids.
"Keep walking, Aurelia," she murmured under her breath.
"I am," Aurelia whispered.
"You're doing well. Don't let them steal this from you."
Aurelia's jaw tightened. "I've already lost too much. They don't get this, too."
When they reached the corridor that led to her father's study, the warmth of her resolve flickered.
She hadn't seen him in months...not truly. Azarion Flameborne, the Flame Lord of Emberhold, had once cradled her when she cried, called her his little flame, and kissed her cheeks.
That had changed after the curse and after her mother died. Now, he could barely look at her without guilt clouding his expression. Or was it shame?
Just as she reached for the polished handle of the heavy oak door, a voice stopped her.
"Lady Aurelia."
She turned, her hood shifting to reveal half her scarred face. The voice belonged to Steven, the elderly butler who had served her family since before she was born. He bowed slightly.
"It may not be wise to enter right now, my lady," he said gently.
Aurelia blinked. "Why?"
"Your father is still in council with his guests from the north."
At the mention of the north, something clenched inside her. That was why she had come. She had to speak to him. Now.
Steven seemed to understand the desperation behind her silence. He always did.
"Would you like me to inform him of your desire to speak with him?" he asked.
She nodded. "Please. Tell him I need only a moment."
Steven offered a small smile. He had never treated her with fear or disgust. His pity was gentle, not condescending. He gave her a slight bow and turned to the door. "Wait here."
She stood in the cold corridor, her fingers nervously wringing the ends of her sleeves as Gwen stood beside her.
"You're doing so well, Aurelia," Gwen said softly.
Aurelia bit her lip. "Do you think he'll see me?"
"He must. He's your father."
She wasn't sure that mattered anymore.
The door opened with a quiet creak, and Steven stepped out, but he wasn't alone.
A tall, broad-shouldered figure followed him into the hallway. He had red-gold hair like molten fire and deep amber eyes that were unmistakable.
Aldric Flameborne.
Her brother.
He paused when he saw her. Unlike the others in Emberhold, Aldric had never shunned her. His smiles had grown fewer over the years, perhaps because of the tension within the family, but he was still the only other Flameborne who looked her in the eye.
"Aurelia," he said, his voice warm with surprise. "What are you doing here?"
Aurelia lowered her hood slowly. She wanted him to see her. She wanted someone to remember she still existed. Her eyes, one cloudy from the curse and one sharp with gold like her father's, searched his.
"I need to speak to Father."
Aldric exchanged a look with Steven.
"He's still with the envoys," Steven said.
"They're still here?" Aurelia asked, dread curling in her gut.
Aldric nodded slowly. "Yes. The Lord of Winter sent trusted men. Father has been speaking with them since dawn."
She took a shaky breath. She had to know the truth. She had to.
"I have to see him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "If... if it's true. I want to hear it from him."
Aldric stepped forward and gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll be honest with you," he said quietly. "I overheard parts of their conversation. There was talk of broken promises. Discomfort over the engagement. But no final decisions have been made."
"Yet," she whispered.
Aurelia felt her throat tighten. "And Father? What did he say?"
Aldric hesitated. "He didn't mention your name. Not once."
That hurt more than she thought it would.
"He's not the man he used to be," Aldric added, as though that might soften the blow.
"The fire in him burns differently now. Everything changed after... after you were cursed."
"I noticed," she said bitterly.
Aldric looked away, guilt flickering across his features. "Come," he said. "Let's talk a moment before you go in. You shouldn't face him like this."
Aurelia hesitated, glancing at Gwen. Her maid gave a small nod of encouragement.
"Alright," Aurelia whispered.
And with that, she followed her brother aldric who led her down the corridor. Aurelia kept her gaze forward. Her heart bracing for what would come next.