Chapter 36: The Breeze That Extinguishes My Flame
The first thing I felt upon entering the north wing dining hall was the smell of freshly baked bread, which didn't combine well at all with the strong scent of perfume.
Nobles believed lunch was just another social event, a meal second.
Long tables were arranged in rows. Ardwyn in the center, as always. Lianza to his right, containing her Empero: she always did when she was with Ardwyn. Her mask was intact, but her eyes... her beautiful garnet eyes seemed dim, lifeless.
Standing three meters behind, I held my post as her faithful bodyguard. Without a chair, plate, or right to sit beside her.
Ardwyn talked. Lianza stayed silent. He noticed the difference, but dismissed it. After all, they were engaged.
"My father has suggested the ceremony be held in the throne room. But I prefer the splendid gardens of Jahke. It's something more..." He wrapped an arm around Lianza and pulled her closer. "Intimate. Don't you think, fiancée?"
"If you think so, Your Highness, then so it is."
"Ardwyn. I've already told you you can call me Ardwyn, Lianza."
"As you say, Ardwyn," she said his name through gritted teeth.
His white cape fell from his shoulder to the floor; it was, as always, unnecessarily long. He dragged it over the chair and the floor tiles as he moved.
It bothered me. It bothered me in every fiber of my body.
"Caspian, come here!" Alexia called from the adjacent table. "There's a free seat next to me!"
Caspian approached in his green suit. Alexia's blonde friend yielded the spot. The black-haired one opened her fan and looked him up and down.
"Lord Caspian," the blonde said. "Is it true your house has the largest gardens in Earolden?"
"The second largest," Caspian corrected, sitting next to Alexia. "The first are House Garialys's."
"How modest," the one with the fan said.
Liryl Taint sat at the back. Alone. With a plate of soup and an open book. He spoke to no one. And no one spoke to him.
Ardwyn kept talking. Lianza kept paying no attention.
"I've been thinking about the ceremony's colors. Gold and white. Jahke's colors. Do they seem fine to you?"
"Yes," Lianza said, her eyes staring into the void.
"Sure? We can add garnet if you'd like."
"It's not necessary."
"Of course it is. You're a D'Tariel. Your color must be present."
Lianza struck the table.
"Then why didn't you consider it in the first place, Ardwyn? Why don't you intuit that I also want my house to be represented?"
His hand settled over Lianza's, which rested on the table. She, though her Empero vibrated, didn't withdraw it. She couldn't. Not in front of others.
My fists clenched. How could someone be so insufferable?
Ardwyn's cape touched the floor tiles under his chair.
An idea occurred to me.
Checking my surroundings: perfect. Nobody was paying attention to me. Remembering what I had done in my game with Professor Vauxol, I adjusted it.
Imagining the word 'fire,' I manifested it with my Empero.
Then I imagined writing an order on it:
'When you touch a cape, you will begin to burn progressively until you reduce it to ashes.'
The order was clear and specific. Free of errors.
With all preparations ready, I walked toward the table, the word 'fire' floating before me. My steps were those of a guard. Straight.
"Excuse me, Your Highness," I said. "I must retrieve the princess's handkerchief."
There was no handkerchief. But someone like Ardwyn wouldn't notice such things: he always looked upward, attentive to others' opinions of him. Looking at Lianza with those arrogant eyes that made me clench my fists.
Crouching beside the chair, I directed the word 'fire' toward the cape.
[You're really going to do it? 🫢]
It's what he deserves.
The word sank into the white fabric.
At first it was subtle. A spark. Blue at the base, orange at the tip. It wasn't noticeable, since the order I wrote on it was precise: burn progressively.
But after four seconds, the edge of Ardwyn's cape began to emit smoke.
By that point, I was already back at my post, three meters behind my Lianza.
The white fabric was blackening.
And yet, the arrogant Ardwyn still hadn't noticed; he kept talking.
"I've also thought about the music. A string quartet. Perhaps a harpist from House Taint."
"Your Highness," Liryl said from the back, without looking up from the book in his hands. "Your cape."
Ardwyn looked down.
And that was when it happened.
The flame had grown enough for everyone to notice it. A third of the cape was burning. Fire climbed up the white fabric as if devouring it.
"Fire!" Alexia screamed.
"Fire, fire, fire!" the one with the fan repeated, hitting the table.
The crackling of fire started to be heard, along with a burnt smell that mixed with the bread and perfume in the air.
Ardwyn leaped to his feet.
The chair fell backward. He began stomping on his own cape. Once. Again. And once more. The fire didn't go out.
I smiled.
The fine fabric burned fast.
"Water! Bring water!" the prince ordered.
Nobody brought water, and by this point everyone had finished their tea.
The nobles stepped aside.
Some laughed behind their hands. Alexia covered her mouth with her fan. Caspian let out a laugh he tried to disguise as a cough when several turned toward him.
Ardwyn spun in circles. Stomping. Hitting. His golden Empero emanated deformed waves all over the place, making everyone start to back away, since being near someone expelling that much Empero so violently could be lethal.
Ardwyn started forming crystal in his hands.
"Someone do something!" he roared, creating huge pieces of crystal to 'put out' the fire.
However, his control was mediocre. Had it been a user with better control, they would have put out that fire in seconds.
Lianza, seated while trying with all her might to disguise her seriousness, raised her right hand. Open palm. She moved it once. Gently. As if shooing a mosquito.
A freezing breeze of her garnet Empero left her palm. Controlled. Exact.
The fire went out.
Instantly, it extinguished all the smoke and embers.
Ardwyn's cape was charred at the bottom edge. Three quarters of the fabric intact. The smell of fine burnt fabric filled the dining hall.
Silence.
Ardwyn stood. Panting. His face red.
Perhaps some of those present thought he was red from anger, but they'd be wrong.
Our beloved little prince, the chosen one, the great hero of the novel, had his face red from shame.
I laughed inside. What had wounded his ego more, I couldn't say: having demonstrated pathetic control over his immense Empero, or that the girl he considered inferior had extinguished my flame with the same grace one shoos a mosquito.