Page 47 of Thorns & Fire (The Ashes of Thezmarr #2)

King Leiko slammed his fist on the table. ‘I have another pressing matter that needs immediate attention.’ The King of Tver motioned to his captain stationed by the heavy oak doors. ‘There is a traitor in our midst.’

Wren’s heart seized as the doors creaked open and Dessa stumbled into the room.

She barely kept her footing as a burly guard shoved her forwards. Wren shot to her feet. This couldn’t be real. Dessa was good and decent. Dessa was her friend .

It was then that she noticed Dessa’s face, usually alight with mischief, was a canvas of anguish. Tears carved glistening tracks down her cheeks; her lip was split, a trickle of dried blood stark against her skin.

Wren’s fists clenched at her sides. ‘What is the meaning of this?’

But Zavier was faster. From nowhere, he unsheathed a thin blade and pointed it at the guard whose meaty hand was bruising Dessa’s arm. ‘Unhand her,’ the Prince of Naarva ordered. Kipp was on his feet too, his mouth open in outrage.

‘Odessa Chamberlain is a traitor to the midrealms and all its crowns,’ King Leiko declared.

‘Release our student, Your Majesty,’ the High Chancellor said, holding out a trembling hand as though to soothe a wild beast.

But the king did not relent, and in the presence of other threats, his guard had drawn a blade on Dessa. He held the wickedly sharp edge mere inches from her throat, a silent warning that made Wren’s blood run cold. One wrong move, one act of defiance, and Dessa’s life would be forfeit.

‘What is she holding?’ Lady Liora asked, her prim voice cutting through the promise of violence.

‘ King Leiko ,’ the High Chancellor interjected, an edge to his voice this time. ‘Release Miss Chamberlain at once. She is a student of this academy and therefore under my care.’

‘She’s no longer a student. She is a traitor to the crowns, as His Majesty has clearly stated,’ Lord Lucian declared. ‘And Lady Liora asks a poignant question: what is in her hand ?’

Wren’s gaze went to Dessa’s fists clenched at her sides. She couldn’t see anything, but Dessa was trembling uncontrollably, refusing to meet her eye.

The room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick and oppressive. Wren’s ears rang with the pounding of her own heart as she watched her friend dragged before the king, the blade still poised at her throat.

King Leiko’s eyes flashed as he stood up suddenly, closing the distance between himself and Dessa.

Wren’s lungs constricted as he invaded her friend’s space, his face mere inches from hers.

With a sharp nod, he signalled the guard.

The blade pressed harder against Dessa’s throat, and Wren’s rage surged as she saw a bead of crimson bloom where steel met flesh—

Lightning crackled, but King Leiko held up a hand of flame in her direction. ‘Don’t you dare.’

If Wren struck, she’d risk the blade slipping across Dessa’s skin, or the king burning her. Beside her, Zavier seemed to come to the same conclusion; he gripped her wrist and pushed her hand back down.

King Leiko, incensed now, snatched Dessa’s hand, where she was clutching something as hard as she could. Despite her trembling body, her jaw clenched in defiance, her lips pressing into a thin line.

Wren couldn’t believe this was happening: that she was in a room of powerful people and no one was stopping the king – including herself.

‘What is it?’ Lady Liora demanded again. ‘Would someone show us what she’s holding, for Furies’ sake?’

Wren’s stomach turned to lead as she glimpsed a hint of green and silver-white between Dessa’s knuckles.

No . It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

But King Leiko’s patience snapped. He whirled to face the assembled nobles and masters, his eyes blazing. ‘The question is not what she’s holding. It’s where it’s from ,’ he spat. ‘This woman has been keeping a secret, one that could turn the tides of our upcoming conflict.’

In one fluid motion, he grabbed Dessa’s clenched fist and slammed it down on the table, causing her to cry out in pain. Wren caught a fleeting glimpse of something shimmering as it settled on the wooden surface before them all.

Wren’s eyes widened as she stared at the fistful of delicate iridescent petals scattered across the polished wood. Their glow seemed to pulse in time with her racing heart.

‘It looks to be a simple rose,’ the Master of Lifelore observed, his weathered face wrinkling as he surveyed the plant. ‘Silvertide, if I’m not mistaken.’

The silence that followed was deafening. But King Leiko rounded on Dessa once more, his fury palpable.

‘I’ll ask you one last time, girl,’ he growled. ‘Where did you get this? Tell them what you admitted to me. Tell them where it’s from!’

Lady Liora, clearly confused by the reactions around her, spoke up hesitantly. ‘For the love of the Furies, will someone answer him?’

The question hung in the air.

Wren’s mind was racing. Her gaze locked with Dessa’s, and in that moment, a thousand unspoken words passed between them. Her friend gave a subtle shake of her head.

But as Wren looked at Dessa – battered, bleeding, yet still protecting her – she knew there was only one choice.

A time will come when that knowledge will be more impactful than the swing of a sword.

Slowly, deliberately, Wren produced a sample of her own from one of the pouches her belt.

All eyes turned to her with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as she held the bloom up for all to see.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.

‘The Master of Lifelore is correct; it is a silvertide rose,’ Wren said, her voice steadier than she felt. ‘Only this particular specimen is from Delmira.’