Chapter 23: Cracks in the Foundation

Ember was currently in her bedroom, her leg bandaged with a magical seal. She'd found a medical spell to reset her broken leg; however, the pain was still there, though it had dulled a bit. There was a possibility that the pain wasn't as strong due to the dark magic elements, but there was no time to ponder over that. She had a job to do…

Just as she was getting up to leave and confront Amber and her group, her bedroom door slammed open, and a slew of King Moses's faithful advisors filed inside.

Ember glared at the men, growing angry. "Excuse you!" she snapped. "How dare you march into my room like you own it! Who do you think you are? Perverts! Degenerates!"

One of the advisors grinned at the queen. "Next thing you know, you'll be calling us 'scalawags' and 'nincompoops.' Your insults aren't hurting anyone, Your Majesty."

"What the hell are you doing in my room? Get out!"

"Sit down, you tiny tyrant," one of the older and more sharp-tongued advisors told her, gently yet firmly pushing her into one of her chairs. "There's news from the Lowlands."

"I don't give a—Lowlands?" Last she'd heard, the Lowlands was where Moses and Roseanna had taken up living since their exile. Not that she'd necessarily followed their lives or anything, but she did have to take accountability of where everyone was when necessary. Sure, she'd probably gotten more updates on Moses than most others, but there was a familial connection, and it was human nature to wonder. "What about the Lowlands?"

"It's about your father and stepmother," the first advisor informed her. "There was a radical raid that spilled through the valley. The king and his wife were murdered."

"M-Murdered…?"

Ember's breath caught in her throat. She felt a jolt of something—shock, anger, perhaps even a fleeting sadness—though she couldn't quite place it. She'd hardened herself to the idea of losing people a long time ago, and her relationship with Moses had been anything but warm, yet the word "murdered" struck a chord she didn't expect. She tightly gripped the armrests of her chair, trying to maintain her composure as her mind raced.

"Yes," the advisor continued, his tone uncharacteristically gentle now. Speaking of his former king as a victim of such a terrible event didn't sit well with him. "The raid was organized by a group that's been gaining power in the Lowlands for months now. They've made it clear that their goal is to wipe out anyone associated with you. They see you as a threat—a danger to everyone."

Ember scoffed, though the sound came out weaker than she intended. "And what exactly do they plan to do? March up here and demand my head?"

Another advisor, a younger man who had often been more lenient with her, stepped forward. His expression was grim. "That's precisely what they intend to do. They've already started their march toward the castle. They're targeting anyone who has ties to you—by blood or by loyalty."

Ember's eyes narrowed. "So handle it. That's your job, isn't it? To protect your queen?"

A heavy silence followed her words. The younger advisor looked away, his jaw clenching as if he were holding back something. Finally, the older, sharp-tongued man spoke again, his voice laced with bitterness.

"You are not our queen, Ember."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. Ember blinked, not quite sure she'd heard him correctly. " Excuse me?"

The advisor met her gaze, his eyes cold. "Liliana was our queen. Even Roseanna, though she was from a commoner background, had the respect of her people. But you… You are nothing more than a tyrant. A child playing at power. We have followed your orders out of fear, not loyalty. But no more. The people have spoken, and we will not stand by as your madness leads us all to ruin."

Ember felt a surge of anger, hot and fierce, rising in her chest. She opened her mouth to retort, to lash out with words or magic, but before she could, the older man continued.

"We've taken precautions to ensure you don't try anything reckless. You're locked in this room, and we've barricaded the door. You will not be leaving here until we decide what to do with you."

Ember's heart pounded in her chest, and she realized, with a shock, that she was afraid. Not of these men, not really—but of something deeper, something she couldn't quite name. "You think you can keep me here?" she hissed. "You think I need a door to get out?"

A flicker of uncertainty passed over the men's faces, but they quickly masked it. "This is for your own good," the younger advisor said quietly. "And for the good of the kingdom."

With that, they turned and left, the door slamming shut behind them.

Ember sat there, frozen, for what felt like an eternity. Her mind was a whirl of emotions she couldn't control—rage, fear, confusion, and a strange, gnawing emptiness that she couldn't shake. Finally, with a scream of frustration, she unleashed her magic. The force of it rippled through the room, shattering the magical seal on her leg and sending a wave of pain shooting up her spine. But she didn't care. She focused on teleporting herself out of the room, the familiar sensation of darkness swirling around her as she felt herself being pulled through space.

When she reappeared, she was in the castle's courtyard. The air was crisp, and the sky above was dark, stars glittering like cold diamonds. Ember's breath came in short, ragged gasps as she looked around, expecting to see Amber and her group. But the courtyard was empty.

A sudden, overwhelming sense of dread washed over her, making her heart pound in her chest. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. Her thoughts immediately went to Jaime. She hadn't seen him in a while, and she hadn't checked on him since this madness began. And the last time they'd seen each other, she'd…

Panic gripped her as she reached out with her magic, searching for the familiar connection that had always been there between them since they'd undergone the dark magic initiation together. But it felt faint, weaker than it should have been.

"No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "No, no, no…"

Without another thought, she followed the thread of magic, her surroundings blurring as she moved through the castle with a speed that only fear could drive. When she finally reached the room where she knew Jaime must be, she found the door locked. Without hesitation, she blasted it open, the wood splintering under the force of her power.

What she saw inside made her blood run cold.

Jaime lay on the floor, his body still and lifeless. Around him stood Amber and the group she'd brought with her, their faces somber as they watched over him. The moment Ember laid eyes on her brother, a horrible wail tore from her throat. She stumbled forward, dropping to her knees beside him, her hands shaking as she reached out to touch him.

"No… Jaime… no…" Tears blurred her vision as she cradled his head in her lap, her fingers trembling as she stroked his hair. "Please… Please wake up… Jaime, please…"

But there was no response. Jaime's eyes were closed, his face pale and still. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Ember let herself cry— really cry. Her sobs wracked her body as she clung to the one person she had always thought she could count on. And now he was… "Don't leave me," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Please… don't leave me…"

Amber looked at the others, a feeling of lingering sadness and sympathy filling her. She couldn't help it. Jaime was James, in a sense, even if he wasn't her brother. She knew exactly what Ember was feeling right now, because she'd only recently had to process the same emotions. But…

Ember could feel the eyes of the others on her, but she didn't care. Let them see. Let them see how much she hurt-how much this tore her apart. She didn't care about anything anymore, not the kingdom, not the crown, not even her own life. All that mattered was Jaime, and he was slipping away from her.

"Jaime… I'm so sorry," she choked out, her tears falling onto his cold skin. "I'm so, so sorry…" And for the first time in a very long time, Ember felt the full weight of her actions, of everything she had done, crashing down on her. The cracks in the foundation of her life were finally breaking open, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

To be continued…

Next Chapter: Enflamed