Flame in the Palace

Chapter 1

Around midnight, the Morning Glory patrons eventually find their way to their rooms or their horses, slowly emptying the dining room as Myria hurries through, collecting empty tankards and abandoned plates. She deposits the dirty dishes in the sink where Grandmother Iris scrapes off leftover food for the compost pile. The plates would be washed in the morning, when the sun could light the way down to the river. Emptying the bucket of food would usually be Myria's last chore before heading to her own bed for the night. This night she manages to finish everything before midnight, so she is outside with the bucket of slop when she hears the bell from the nearby town of Everhaven ringing the first hour of the day with twelve strikes.

Before the twelfth strike rings out, she hears horses approaching the tavern, their hooves clattering on the cobblestone road as they reach the tavern yard. The voices of men drift to hears before she can make out their faces in the dim moonlight.

"Are you sure the innkeeper is still awake now? I would hate to trouble them at this hour."

"Of course! I know that they have some wild celebrations here that last until dawn. It's why it's called the Morning Glory."

"And if you're wrong?" a new dubious voice points out.

"Then I know the owners! Everything will be fine!"

"Somehow Geffrey's definition of fine troubles me."

"Geffrey?" This time it is Myria's turn to question the group of riders. The men, seeming to just notice her standing there, freeze suddenly. The one named Geffrey, a distant cousin of hers, eagerly jumps from his horse to embrace her.

"Myria! It's so good to see you! Please tell me you're still serving customers!"

A moment's indecision stalls her. Myria thinks of how her grandmother was balancing out the night's earnings. She must be already preparing to close the tavern for the evening, but then Myria remembers her grandmother's ever-present frown.

"Of course!" Myria exclaims, forcing a smile at her customers. Geffrey releases her. "Go ahead inside. I'll take care of your horses."

There are four men with four horses. As she leads the horses to the stables, Myria thinks back to the last time she had seen her cousin Geffrey. It had been years, perhaps when she was still a teenager. She knew Geffrey belonged to a prominent family that was related to her, distantly, on her mother's side. She didn't quite know how. She just knew that Grandmother Iris didn't take very well to the thought of Myria's distant family members.

With the horses secure in the stables, Myria brushes the dirt from her hands onto her pant legs and collects her abandoned slop bucket lbefore returning inside to see the four men crowding around a table in the corner of the tavern. Grandma Iris had already discovered their presence, eyeing them warily from the bar. Myria follows her gaze and realizes that these are not ordinary men. Their jackets are silk with wide, billowy sleeves and elegant gold threading. Their shirts are white, too white to belong to common laborers. They were nobility, which was a strange event for the Morning Glory, but even stranger for Myria to suddenly just realize about her cousin. Her mind grapples for the few memories she has of Geffrey, their fleeting visits as children. His clothes were always clean, his hair never smelled. His parents were overbearing and bossy, but Myria realizes she had never seen where Geffrey lives.

Grandma Iris doesn't move, keeping her vigilant, suspicious watch. Taking a deep breath, Myria approaches the table, maintaining an easy smile with the hope that they would tip well. "What brings you to the Morning Glory, gentlemen?"

The three others look her over as Geffrey answers for them. "Bring out your best bottle of wine, cousin!"

Myria does her best not to grimace, acutely aware of the worn nature of her baggy, wool pants, her stained shirt, and her messy hair. "We don't have any wine. It's just ale on tap, brewed fresh from Mossy Boulder down the road."

A man with an olive complexion and sharp eyes frowned. "Do you know who we are?"

Myria's smile never wavers as she turns it fearlessly to him. "I barely know who Geffrey is, to be quite honest. You can have ale or nothing."

Another man with dark hair cuts in. "Ignore our friend Aryn here. He's in a bad mood since that long ride Geffrey took us on. We'll take four pints of ale, please."

Myria nods and hurries to the kitchen, reaching for clean tankards as she hears Grandma Iris following her. "You've got an opinion about our new guests," Myria says. "Go on, share it."

Grandma Iris doesn't move from the doorway as Myria pours the ale. "They're nobility."

"I can see that for myself. How come I never knew that about Geffrey?"

"His parents used to come and try to take you back to their world. I wouldn't let them. Eventually they stopped trying, especially when they saw how you've become a headstrong barmaid."

Myria pauses and looks up from her work. "I never knew that. Does that mean my mother was noble as well?"

Grandma Iris falters, which was a strange reaction Myria had never seen before from her. If Grandma Iris was anything, it was strong and certain. Nothing had ever given her pause, until now. "She gave it all up when she married my son."

Myria isn't given time to push for more information when she hears Aryn from the other room yelling impatiently for her. She quickly gathers the drinks and, balancing them on a tray, heads back to the nobles' table.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she says as sweetly as she can, handing out the drinks. "We had already put our dishes away for the evening."

The final man with the honey-colored hair seems to be embarrassed by their entourage. "We're very sorry for putting you out this late. Geffrey struggled with our navigation."

Geffrey is about to protest when the dark-haired man shoots her cousin a look that would silence any fearsome beast. "All right, I concede my methods were a bit unorthodox—"

"You lied about having a map!" dark-hair exclaims.

"—but I knew where I was going. We ended up in the right place."

Dark-hair looks as though he wants to argue more, but honey-hair raises a hand to interrupt him. "It's fine, Emiri. Just enjoy the experience. We're here, drinking, with a beautiful bartender here to keep us company."

Myria grins awkwardly at the compliment. It is not the most forward flattery she has ever received, but she supposes noble men couldn't be that much different from common ones."Will you gentlemen need any rooms for the night?"

"None at all!" Geffrey exclaims excitedly. "We're not staying here but going hunting in the Talking Tree woods."

Myria looks these men over in their fine clothing and smooth hands and can't imagine them hunting anything. Well, mostly smooth hands. The dark-haired one named Emiri has callouses on his fingers. Perhaps he was not a noble after all. She pulls up a chair to their table. "May I ask what you're hunting?"

Geffrey's grin turns devilish. "Minotaur."

Myria can't help herself. Despite it being bad for her potential tip, she laughs in her cousin's face.  "I'm sorry, and why are you hunting minotaur?" she asks after managing to compose herself.

Geffrey frowns. "Why is that funny?"

Emiri and honey-hair both chuckle, also finding amusement. "She's imagining you hunting a minotaur, Geff," Emiri points out.

"You really plan on hunting the minotaur?" Myria asks, looking at each of them.

"We're going on one last adventure together, while we still can," Geffrey answers, leaning back in his chair. He nods toward honey-hair. "Leor is about to become too busy soon for the rest of us. We thought we would make this night memorable."

Leor offers a thin smile for Geffrey before draining the contents of his tankard. He turns to Myria. "Do you know where the minotaur is? You seem quite capable of handling yourself. Perhaps you would like to be our guide."

Myria considers the offer for a moment as the others bicker about it.

"We don't need her," Aryn protests.

"Of course we do," Geffrey insisted. "Myria's perfect! She knows the forest better than anyone. You don't want to get lost in the forest with me as your guide, right?"

Emiri is also dubious. "You don't think that's too dangerous?"

Myria ignores all of their remarks, eyes only on Leor. His smile is inviting, charming, and there is a genuine respect and kindness in his words that Myria knows is rare from anyone, nobility or not.

She grins mischievously. "I have conditions."

Aryn rolls his eyes while Geffrey cheers. Leor's smile only deepens. "Sensible. I am listening."

"I will take you straight to the minotaur and give you this memorable night you've been wanting. But, no one is killing it."

This seems to surprise them all as their mouths hang slightly agape in awe. "You've seen the minotaur?" Emiri asks.

"Of course," she says, beaming with pride. "What sort of guide would I be if I hadn't?"

Leor looks impressed, nodding his head in agreement. His approval makes her cheeks feel warm. "Lead the way."

Before leaving, Myria goes to her room to grab a few items, including her traveling cloak and the wooden flute she was gifted by a traveling bard  years ago. She takes an extra moment to neatly tie back her hair before she returns to the kitchen and packs a few peaches in her bag. Grandmother Iris waits for her there.

"You're going out with them," she observes.

"I can't just let them get hurt. I'll be back in the morning."

"I would be more afraid of them than the minotaur. Nobles always take what they want, no matter what they have to do."

Myria sighs, resigning herself to let the argument go, and turns to her grandmother for a quick hug. "I'll be back in the morning," she simply repeats.

She leads them down a worn trail that winds through the forest. The only light to illuminate their path comes from the full moon shining overhead. The forest chirps and buzzes with nocturnal life as the horses plod carefully along. Deeper and deeper they go into the forest for nearly an hour until there is no more trail and the thick canopy of leaves all but obliterates the moonlight reaching the forest floor. She mostly relies on her horse's instincts to guide them through.

"How much further?" she hears Emiri's voice ask from behind.

"We're nearly there," she calls over her shoulder.

Someone urges their horse next to her own midnight black mare, Jadis, and it isn't until he speaks that she recognizes it as Leor.

"Is there a reason you don't want us to kill the minotaur?" he asks, keeping his voice low.

"He is the only minotaur I've ever seen in this forest. It would be a shame if he disappeared. What if he's the last of his kind?"

"Is he not dangerous?" Leor asks, a tone of fascination coloring his voice.

"Of course, anything can be dangerous, but the real danger is when you don't recognize its potential. Proceed cautiously and everything will be fine."

Leor gives a small chuckle. "I wish I shared your brave optimism about everything."

Myria shrugs, realizing he cannot see it. "You can, as long as you see the world for what it is and what it can be. Tell me, why is there even a need for you to go on such a glorious hunt for a minotaur? Why will you become too busy for your friends after tonight?"

Leor hesitates, if the lingering air of certainty that hangs between them is any indication. He finally manages, "I'll be taking over my father's responsibilities soon. My family expects a lot out of me, including starting a family."

"Starting a family?" Myria repeats. "Does that include arranging your marriage?"

She hears a clipped breath that escapes his nostrils. "Yes, it does." Leor sounds rueful, regretful.

"I am sorry to hear that you are burdened with such responsibility. I've just recently learned that my mother escaped that life just so she could marry whoever she wanted. I couldn't imagine being forced in your role, and I don't envy you for it."

He emits a soft chuckle. "Then I envy your mother for having the courage to take her future into her own hands."

"I really wouldn't know," Myria admittedly slowly. "I never knew her. My parents died when I was very young."

Before Leor can respond, Myria feels Jadis slowing down her pace. Ahead, there is a break in the trees where the moonlight shines more brightly on a small clearing filled with long, lush grass that sways with the night's breeze. Myria hisses for the rest of the party to stop as she dismounts Jadis.

"I'll go on ahead. The rest of you should stay behind."

Emiri's voice is close . "Are you sure? Isn't the minotaur dangerous?"

"Yes on both accounts, but I know what I'm doing. It would be more dangerous to bring four new humans into his home without him expecting it."

"Is there anything we can do?" Leor asks, dismounting his own steed.

"Keep the horses calm."

Geffrey's voice cuts in behind the others. "It's so dark! How can we see anything?"

Myria rolls her eyes. "And keep quiet."

She walks, slowly, quietly, and cautiously. At the opposite end of the meadow is an opening for a cave that reaches deep into the cliffside. Myria has been here before so she isn't afraid. However, there is something about the expectant audience behind her that makes her nervous. She shakes a tingling sensation from her fingers and, stopping in the middle of the clearing, fishes in her bag for the wooden flute. She mimics a few fingerings before beginning to play.

It is true that music can soothe any beast, smooth stones, or bend trees. When she had first learned about the minotaur's presence in the forest, she spent many hours watching it secretly, wondering what sort of creature it could be. She found that he was usually lonely, and the first time she tried playing for him was an experience that was as reckless as it was informative. Luckily, she had discovered that the minotaur did like music, a fact that she had never shared with anyone before, not even Grandma Iris.

When Myria plays the flute now, she starts with a low-pitched lullaby, something soft and gentle to the ears. She does not know if the minotaur is already asleep, and if he is, she thinks it best to wake him up with something that would be easy on his ears.

Slowly, she increases the tempo of her tune, and the flute rings out to gracefully silence the night's buzzing. It seems that everything is listening to her now. She focuses on not flubbing her fingerings, no minor chords or harmonies would do her any favors right now.

Within a minute, she hears a deep rumbling stirring within the darkness of the cave. She plays a little louder now, keeping the melody soft and inviting. The men behind her whisper anxiously, causing her entire body to tense.

The minotaur reveals himself at the mouth of the cave. He is taller than any man she has seen with the chest and arms of a human, covered in dense fur. The bull shows in his cloven hooves for feet and in his antlered, elongated face. Myria assumes he must not have been asleep yet, and he watches her with alert and careful eyes. He is always careful. And she is careful to finish her music to the end of a major chord, careful to remain still for him. When the last note fades, she lowers her flute and smiles for him.

"Hello there! I'm sorry; I know it is rather late. I hope you forgive me, but I brought some people who are very eager to meet you." She doesn't know if he ever understands her, but she always speaks to him like he can.

The minotaur raises his snout and sniffs the air cautiously before slowly making his way to her. Myria knows not to move and waits for him to finish his inspection, realizing that other humans in the past have probably not been so kind to him as she has. When her face is inches from his, the minotaur stops, gazing at her curiously. The anxious whispering of the men increases in volume, which distracts the minotaur away from her. He snorts out a powerful breath with an uncertain grunt, blowing the hair out of her face. She senses the minotaur tensing in front of her, body coiled like a spring.

She slowly reaches into her bag to break the tension and offers a peach. "Here," she says carefully. "I know how much you like them."

It is enough to refocus his attention. He is no longer cautious as he reaches for the fruit and bites into eagerly. Now, Myria breathes a sigh of relief, stroking the long snout.

"I am sorry for my rude friends. Can they come closer? I promise that they won't hurt you."

The minotaur seems to consider her question for some time, chewing thoughtfully on his peach. Then, amazingly, he nods.

The others draw near with less certainty than Myria. The minotaur's ears flatten back, but he does not appear any more imposing than that as he waits for the men to approach.

Myria does the polite thing and introduces each man by handing them a peach to give to the minotaur. "This is my cousin Geffrey, and his friends, Aryn, Emiri, and Leor."

They stand in a line to wait their turn to give their offering of peach, gaping at the minotaur who towers over all of them. Myria steps back to give them space, crossing her arms and smiling at her handiwork. Emiri steps back with her as Geffrey hands his peach out to the minotaur.

"Do you do this often?" he asks, spinning the peach in his hands.

"Do what?" she asks coyly.

"Make friends with dangerous, magical creatures," he replies with a snort.

"No, the minotaur is the only one I know."

"You know it's crazy, right?" The spinning peach in Emiri's hands increases in speed. "Geffrey has us hunting minotaur, and some barmaid takes us right to one. Plays music for the minotaur, feeding him peaches."

Myria smirks, remembering his calloused hands. "Some barmaid? Is it as crazy as a commoner dressed up as a noble?"

Emiri laughs quietly, a husky sound that quickly dissipates as he explains. "First off, I am not a noble."

"But you do ride around them searching for minotaurs? Do you do that often?" she points out, echoing his initial question.

"Looking for minotaurs? No. Ride around with them?" He gestures to the group in front where Aryn is offering his peach and hesitates. "Yes, it happens occasionally."

"How did you get so lucky?" Myria asks wistfully.

Emiri tenses beside her. "I'm not sure if I would call it lucky. How did you even know I was just a commoner?"

"I wouldn't call you just a commoner, but if you must know, I saw your hands." Myria reaches for one and holds it between the two of them, tracing the callouses with two fingers. "You have callouses, which means you've had to work hard in your life. I have one on my thumb. Your friends don't have any."

Emiri doesn't say anything about the sudden, forward gesture, and merely watches her. She maintains his piercing gaze with a shy smile. It is an expression that earns her many tips with the tavern's patrons, but that is not why she smiles now. The tavern and minotaur are far from her mind as she puzzles out Emiri's role among his noble friends.

"You never answered my question," she points out.

"I—" He is cut off suddenly when there is a small gasp among the group in front of them. Myria releases Emiri's hand and races back to the minotaur to see a strange sight. The minotaur kneels with his arms outstretched, offering a hollowed-out horn to Leor.

"What happened?" Myria asks. "I've never seen him do this."

"Nothing," Leor hastily explains. "I just gave him my peach, and then he kneeled down."

"Do you think it's because Leor is the prince?" Geffrey asks eagerly.

"Wait, the prince? You're a prince? The prince?" Myria repeats in confusion. The king of Avalion is King Uriel and his wife Queen Eloria. They have a son...  Crowned Prince Leor. She shakes her head, not knowing how she missed the connection before.

Leor sighs. "Yes, I am the prince," he admits, and she thinks she can hear sadness in his voice.

Myria composes herself from her confusion. "So when you say that you're taking on your father's responsibilities?"

Leor nods. "Yes, it means I will be king one day. I'm sorry; it was not my intent to deceive you. I simply didn't want you treating me differently."

"I'm more embarrassed I didn't realize it sooner." She shifts her weight to one leg. "You should probably accept his gift," she says, nodding towards the horn. "I've heard that minotaurs hold onto the horns of their fathers, and they don't give them away freely."

Leor glances at the minotaur's gift with uncertainty. "I am not sure if I feel comfortable with taking this from him."

"I can confirm from experience that the best thing to do is to accept the minotaur's gift. Best not to offend him by refusing it."

Leor takes her advice, taking the horn with as much grace and respect he can muster. "You honor me with this gift, Sir Minotaur. I will treasure it always." A braided cord hangs from the horn's tip, and Leor slips this over his head to wear as a talisman. The minotaur rises to his feet, snorts, and gathers his bounty of peaches before retreating to his cave.

"That went much better than I could have expected," Geffrey announces proudly.

Aryn scoffs. "I think anything would have been better than what you would have expected."

"We should head back. Are you sure you don't want to stay at the Morning Glory?" Myria asks them. "It's pretty late and there's not another inn for miles."

Aryn's expression curls in disgust. "Stay at an inn, like a commoner? You probably have fleas in your beds."

His words hang thickly in the air as Myria frowns. She would not normally value the opinion of someone the likes of Aryn, but the insult stings in front of the prince. She forces a placid smile instead. "The bed I have in mind for you? Yes! For everyone else, I assure you that our beds are clean and comfortable."

The others laugh at her remark, and Leor decides, "There's no other place I'd rather be right now."

They gather their horses and head back through the dark forest. Myria estimates that dawn is only a short few hours away. She would get at least two hours of sleep before needing to start breakfast for the tavern. Grandma Iris would probably disapprove but this would not be the shortest night's sleep she has ever had.

When they return to the Morning Glory, Myria gives them directions to the available rooms upstairs before stabling all five horses. As they go inside, she hears Geffrey exclaiming enthusiastically about roughing it without having a second change of clothes on hand. Aryn grunts in response.

It isn't until Myria heads back towards the stable gate that she realizes she is not alone. Leor lingers outside, a hand scratching the nape of his neck as he seems to search for the right words among the cobbled ground.

"Leor?" she calls out to him tentatively before quickly correcting herself. "Or, I'm sorry, Prince Leor? Your majesty?"

"I prefer just Leor, if it's all the same to you," he chuckles awkwardly.

"Okay, Just Leor." She laughs. "Is there something on your mind?"

He hesitates, opening his mouth, stopping, and then starting again. "Myria, at the risk of sounding like your cousin, tonight has been undoubtedly splendid. I am sorry again if it appears I deceived you. I find it refreshing to go out in anonymity, when people don't know I'm the prince. People treat you differently. Yet, spending this evening with you has been the most magical, the most fun I've had in a long time. It felt nice to actually live for once."

Myria shrugs, a smile tugging at her face. "You didn't need me for that. The minotaur brings that out in anyone."

Leor laughs, but it's strained. "Believe me, it wasn't just the minotaur. Tomorrow I will have to go back to being the prince of Avalion. I'll have to choose a woman to be my wife by the end of the summer."

"That sounds like a lot of responsibility and a pretty big decision you're going to have to make. I don't know if I would be able to handle that."

"On the contrary," Leor disagrees. "You seem pretty fearless to me. You know exactly who you are and what decisions you're going to make. I... admire that about you."

"Admire?" she repeats, looking away into the distance, a faint heat rising in her cheeks.

"If you could have anything you wanted, what would it be? What do you want out of life?" Leor asks, lowering his face inches from hers. "What drives you everyday?"

It was such an intense, personal question and one that she was in no way prepared for. Myria stutters, fumbling through her words as she works out an answer that can prove equal in Leor's eloquence.

"Right now, it's just the tavern with my grandmother. It's the only life I've ever known, and she's been the only one there for me my entire life. I've never thought of a different life for myself, but I suppose I enjoy seeking out the small adventures everyday. Like with the minotaur."

Leor smiles, and Myria almost breathes a sigh of relief that he seems satisfied with her answer. "I wish I could be more like you and have the freedom to do what I wanted."

Myria arches a skeptical eyebrow. "You're the prince. Surely you can do whatever it is you want?"

"There are privileges, of course, but I am duty-bound to put Avalion first. The needs of the kingdom come before my own, and so there are choices I am not free to make."

"Well tonight, right now, you're far from the Ilona palace. You're Just Leor, so what does Just Leor want right now?" Myria asks, flashing him an inviting smile.

"Right now, I would only ask for the perfect end to an unforgettable evening with you."

Feeling emboldened, Myria stretches on her toes and presses her lips to Leor. He smiles against her mouth as his hands cradle her face gently. When she pulls away, he touches his forehead to hers.

"And once more you surprise me by being absolutely perfect."

Myria's grin is wide as she decides not to argue with him. "You should head back inside. I'm sure a prince needs his sleep."

Leor does as she instructs as she quickly hurries to shut the gate and extinguish the outside lantern hanging by the door. Finally, she heads back into the tavern through the back kitchen door so she can lock it behind her. Inside, the tavern is completely dark, so Myria mostly feels her way through the kitchen, heading for her room.

She stops at the bottom of the staircase when she hears voices in the corridor above. Pausing, she strains to listen, recognizing Geffrey's and Emiri's voice just outside their doors.

"So what do you think of Myria?" Geffrey probes eagerly. "She seems to get along pretty well with Leor."

For a strange, inexplicable reason, Myria holds her breath, waiting anxiously for his answer.

To her surprise, Emiri's voice is gruff. "She's just another dirty barmaid, right? She's probably waiting to take advantage of him."

Her chest steels itself, and the blood rushing through her ears turns thick, drowning out any response Geffrey might have. She tries to make sense of Emir's words, thinking back to their brief exchange in the forest and wondering how she had given him such a poor impression. The exhilaration of kissing Leor has completely vanished as a new heat rises to her face. She forces herself to breathe evenly through her nose before quietly backtracking her steps from the kitchen.

She closes the door with slightly more force, signaling her presence, and her steps are heavier as she makes her way upstairs. The noise does its job because by the time she reaches the second floor, it is completely empty. She quickly takes refuge in her room, locking the door behind her before she throws herself on her mattress. To her dismay, the night passes quickly with thoughts of Leor, of Emiri, and her own insecurity.