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“Have a good night, Torin.” She panted from her accelerated heart rate. “Enjoy your last blowout before your duties commence.”

“I intend to.” He smirked. “But I should know, as your newly appointed guard, if your face will be making an appearance tonight.”

“With you? Absolutely not.”

“Oh, that’s right, I forget myself, you have a fear of enjoying yourself.”

She moved closer to him. “I know exactly how to enjoy myself, and under no circumstances does that ever involve you.” She almost growled like a Shifter. “Like you seem to think most things do.”

“You do wound me.” One of his little dimples appeared and she had to shut her mouth before she said something that wasn’t an insult. “When you say things with such venom, you break down my self-esteem.” He placed a hand over his heart. “You break my heart.”

She scoffed. “Even if you had one, that’s not the only thing I would like to break right now.”

A husky laugh broke from his throat, and the loudness reminded her that there were other people around. A lot of other people. And they were now staring.

He stepped in, now so close to her that she could feel the heat from his body. “Violence is the way to my heart, angel. By all means, go ahead and try me.”

She looked around herself, glowering, “You are—”

“Devilishly handsome? Diabolically sexy? A god amongst men?”

“A lunatic,” she hissed. “You are a deranged lunatic! And I would be damned if I went out with you tonight.”

His brow danced up. “Your loss, angel.”

“No, angel,” she mocked, “that’s your loss.”

She stormed off, heading for the door before he could open that annoyingly perfect mouth again.

“Angel is my pet name,” he shouted from behind. She could hear the swaggering smirk in his words, but she didn’t turn around. “You can’t steal it.”

It took Emara all of her strength not to swing around the door and throw him a rude gesture. Knowing Torin, it would only incentivise him to keep going. And when the room was full of so many people who would soon be looking to her for council, she needed to act accordingly. So she marched to her room instead.

Steam rose from the warm water that soaked Emara’s skin. Rosebuds, lily petals, and jasmine floated all around her body on top of the water. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in the bathing chamber, but she had been there long enough to have topped up the water a few times as it turned cold. Her damp hair now smelling of roses and honey, she decided it was time to get out of the water. Her skin was as wrinkled as the old bark off the ancient tree of life.

Placing a soft cotton towel around her body, she padded out of her bathing chamber and into her main room, taking a seat at the vanity table. Her hair was slicked back from her face as she brushed out the knots, and the inky mass lay heavy on her back, soaking into the robe she had crossed over herself.

She lowered the brush and stared at her appearance.

The dark eyes of the girl looking back seemed broken. Her cheeks were hollower than ever before. Her skin was paler and didn't seem to be glowing like it always had. Her lips were still hers, but the smile behind them struggled to come through.

She barely recognised herself through the sadness that threatened to consume her.

Emara slammed the brush down onto the vanity unit, swallowing the lump in her throat.

She didn’t want to be an empress of brokenness. She wanted to be a strong Empress of Air. The last time she had looked in the mirror, she had been going to the Uplift; she had been full of confidence, finally beginning to find herself. Her hair had been wonderfully wavy, her face had been painted to perfection, and her dress…

Her dress has been made for a goddess. Callyn Greymore had made sure of it. A deep ache plunged from her heart to the pits of her stomach.

She didn’t want to feel like this anymore.

She couldn’t stand it, feeling empty and alone.

She had felt it after her grandmother had died, but it was nothing in comparison to how she felt now. She was truly alone. Emara felt darkness crawl into her heart and wedge itself into her hollow cavity. She had no hand to hold through tears that she cried.

Everyone has a choice.

Naya Blacksteels soft voice whispered from the back of her mind as Emara remembered how the Earth Witch had held her hand.