BTS: A Court of Embers

23: A Court of Embers

"Where are we going next?"

She went with him from the North Wing, passing the throne room to get to the grand staircase.

"To me," he said. He guided her down the steps and towards the West Wing. "I hope we have enough time left."

The pink in the sky deepened to a dark red. He had awhile, but not more than an hour, Maren figured. It didn't even matter. She prepared herself to act surprised, to not feel nauseous while walking in the same direction as Faine.

The West Wing during day was nothing like what she had seen. The walls had not been sliced through. Everything was warmer and quieter with a sort of static charge to the air; the essence of magic living and breathing throughout. The floors were a maelstrom of color, no longer a lifeless onyx. She walked over a rainbow.

He passed the room where Maren first heard him yell at Namjoon and Jimin.

Brass doors rather than splintered wood made up Faine's door. He did not even bother to look as he passed. His neglect disappointed Maren more than she understood.

"What are these rooms?" she asked.

He answered calmly. "Meeting rooms and studies. My room is also in this wing, as you know."

"Anything else of importance?"

His brows furrowed a bit. "No, not besides where I am taking you."

She stayed pleasant despite wanting to run to the only door she knew by heart. The woman in there would be grateful to see her. For anyone to see her at all. Being lost in a mirror was one thing, but living in isolation was another. Maren's thoughts were interrupted by the hum of music.

"Do you hear that?"

"No," he said, "I do not hear anything."

He carried her closer to it. Harps, violins, lutes, and lyres running through a fast-paced celebration. A cacophony of noise measured in perfect harmony. She leaned forward to hear more of the sound. "Yes, you do hear that. It's impossible to miss."

"Maren, what are you talking about?"

Gently pulling away from him, she pointed to the golden doors ahead. "It's coming from there!"

"It can't be. This wing is my wing and I've no guests besides you," he said.

She practically jogged to it. The notes were loud enough to make the floor vibrate. Akin to the Solstice Festival's pure merriment and revelry. Maren reached the door, ready to tell him again until the grand doors creaked on their own. The music toppled over her, so real, so boisterous that she almost stepped back.

It was similar to the dining room in the way that it let in light, but this room was round and domed. Polished ivory marble glimmered rose in the final protest of sunset. A painted floor and a parade of pillars upheld the tall, frescoed ceiling. A red carpet stretched from the mouth of the door down a sweeping staircase that went two ways. And at the foot of the steps...

Maren held onto the stair's bannister for balance. Fae men led women through a high-energy dance. Skirts twirled. Golden dust and ribbons of flame lit up their gowns every time they spun. A chamber orchestra played excitedly in one of the far corners, their vigor renewed at the sight of their Prince. There was so much talk that Maren failed to hear her own thoughts.

Directly across from her were three separate pairs of doors leading outside. The one in the very middle opened to a balcony draped in lush greenery and blood-red roses. The two at the sides of the room opened to staircases that led down and down into a splendid courtyard.