I was alone.
Sulking in the entryway wouldn’t get me anywhere. With a sigh, I pushed off the frame and explored my temporary home—my cage. Crossing a hand-loomed rug, I walked over to the coffee table and picked up a grape. The sweet flavor burst in my mouth.
Next, the chewy, salt-crusted bread.
Guess it could have been worse.
“Enjoying your meal?”
I gasped, a piece of food lodging in my throat. Was someone in here with me? Hitting my chest, I coughed the bite down before I could choke to death while my head errantly spun to find the source of the feminine voice.
Other than my red-faced reflection in the mirrored cabinets, hutches, and drawers, not another being was in sight.
Movement pulled my gaze downwards, to where the fire flickered in the hearth.
Just above the coals, a face winked back at me.
I jumped back at the sight of a floating head crafted out of the flames, tripping over the velvet couch seat, landing in a mountain of frilly, beaded pillows.
A head. A face. In the fire.
“Oh, poor Helga just arranged those.”
“You—you talk.” Dryness crept into my mouth. “But what… what are you?”
“Someone they needed to keep quiet.”
My jaw dropped.
“Kidding!” The flames sputtered from an invisible draft. “I’m a fire nymph.”
I scooted to the edge of the cushion, peering into the blaze—at the distinct pointy nose, the dancing eyebrows, the lips parted in a smile. “What are you doing in my fireplace?”
The kindling crackled, as if the spirit stuck inside was… laughing. “I live here. What are you doing in my room?”
Fair point. “I was brought here against my will.”
“That explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“Why the servants came in so hot and bothered today. Sweeping up all my piles of ash, replacing my logs—I’d been collecting those for years. And the spiders, they didn’t even stand a chance. No warning, no nothing. Although I think I enjoy people more than arachnids. For the most part.”
My attention darted to the ceiling, the crown molding chipped and worn; to the walls, the floral paper peeling at the corners; and the bookcases, thick layers of dust gathered between the spines.
At first glance, the place had seemed fit for a queen. But as I looked closer… things were out of place, poorly hidden, quickly breezed over, as if the staff had been in a rush to clean up.
“It’s been so long since anyone’s been up here. I’m positive the court forgot I existed. I haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone in a long time. Am I doing it right?” The fire shuddered. “Am I talking too much?”
I shook my head, dropping my gaze to a runner at the foot of the white brick that made up the fireplace, a large stain fading the intricate pattern. It’d also been way too long since I had had a conversation like this—with someone who had no ulterior motive.
Even if that someone was a talking inferno.
Leaning forward, I brought my elbows to my knees. The element warmed my cheeks. “What’s your name?”
“The last visitor called me Eldi. It means fire in Icelandic. What’s yours?”
“River.”
