Glow of the Everflame

“The familiar scent of him overwhelmed me. He should have smelled like wealth. He should have reeked of exotic incense and spices no mortal could ever afford, all the hallmarks of his privileged status. Instead, his intoxicating musk hinted at cedar, leather, and moss. He smelled like the forest—my favorite place in the world, the only place I felt truly alive.”

Diem has a visceral response to being close to Luther Corbois when they ride his horse back to the palace together. She doesn’t know Luther well at this point, but she is entranced by his “familiar scent,” which reminds her of her “favorite place in the world.” When she describes his musk as “intoxicating,” this wording conveys her burgeoning romantic interest in him, even though she will continue to suppress these desires for quite some time.

“In the mortal world, my ego had been nurtured by my parents. My father had taught me to be strong and fearless, adept with weapons of all types. My mother taught me to be clever and independent—and most of all, unafraid to use my own voice. But here, among the children of the gods, I’d never felt more mediocre.”

With the despairing tone of this passage, Diem expresses her sense of isolation and inferiority when she first arrives at the palace. Despite her new status as the queen-to-be, she still defines herself in the context of “the mortal world” and therefore feels “mediocre” when she is surrounded by the Descended. At this moment, she is comparing and contrasting herself to the royal family, and the passage also foreshadows the personal challenges that Diem will face as the presumptive queen.

“His voice softened, ‘Diem, about what happened earlier—’ I snatched the knife from his hand and shut the door in his face. Luther was a threat, that had become abundantly clear. Whatever might have passed between us before, it had to end. This was war. And he was my prime target.”

At this point, Diem stubbornly persists in regarding Luther as her enemy because she has grown up believing that all Descended are evil. She shuts “the door in his face” to end their conversation, but this action also captures her ill-considered desire to shut Luther out of her life and heart altogether. She is trying to squash the feelings that “passed between [them] before” to maintain her loyalty to her mortal origins.

“One moment I was shaking, panting, and then— I was levitating. Hovering in the air, cocooned by a glowing white sphere that crackled and hummed as my hair danced around my shoulders in a churning breeze. Spiked tendrils of pale blue light twirled from the orb’s surface, slinking across the floor and transforming the dungeon into a luminous jungle of gnarled, sharp-tipped vines.”

In this passage, the author uses figurative language and rich descriptive detail to describe Diem’s magical powers, creating a near-cinematic moment that dramatizes her shock. Her magic “crackle[s] and hum[s]” and sends “tendrils of pale blue light” around the dungeon, and this vivid language animates the scene and conveys a luminous, awe-inspiring mood that mirrors Diem’s own emotional experience.

“‘I will not break my promise, but I can give you this,’ he said. ‘If she isn’t back by year’s end, I’ll go get her and bring her to you myself. You have my word.’ My heart leapt. The end of the year was two months away. If I could survive the Challenging and make it through the coronation…”

In this scene, Diem has a physiological response to Luther’s promise to find and deliver her mother, Auralie. Luther’s words capture his desire to prove himself to Diem, and his promise finally allows Diem to accept that she might be able to trust him after all. Her heart leaps because she is learning something new about her world, her family, and herself, and she also longs to be reunited with her mother, whose absence continues to leave a gaping hole in her life.

“As Queen, I could help people. I could help mortals, of course, but I was starting to realize that I could help the Descended, too. The good ones—the worthy ones, however few they might be. Centuries of archaic, unjust traditions ruled this realm, and perhaps I alone had the power to end them.”

In this passage of internal monologue, Diem’s thoughts reveal that she has already undergone a considerable evolution of her ideas and beliefs, for rather than seeing all Descended as enemies, she now wishes to help them just as she has always wished to help mortals. The scene therefore conveys Diem’s hopes and her fragile new willingness to see herself in the role of queen. She also begins to feel the Burden of Leadership and expresses her desire to use her f power to help others. The moment conveys the full extent of Diem’s empathy, heart, and determination.

“Despite every reason I had to consider him my enemy, something in me yearned to trust him. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to his glow, even as my wings burned and curled in the intensity of his fire.”

The author uses figurative language and metaphors to express the intensity of Diem’s emotions as she struggles to sort out her feelings about Luther. Despite her confusion, she feels innately attracted to him—even though she knows that such an attraction is dangerous. By invoking the images of the moth and the flame, Cole conveys Diem’s desire to be close to Luther, even if being close to him could destroy her.

“I didn’t hate Luther. Against my better judgment, I had begun to genuinely trust him. I was even—Everflame forgive me—enjoying his company. I liked the way he unsettled me, the way he challenged me. I liked that he was a riddle I couldn’t quite solve. I liked…him. Oh gods. I liked him.”

The dizzy, puerile tone of this passage conveys the reality that although Diem is teetering on the cusp of adulthood, she still holds an adolescent viewpoint in many ways. Her internal monologue captures her attempt to make sense of her feelings, and the abrupt, awkward syntax creates a halting tone of wonderment as Diem finally identifies her emotions.

“I had never imagined my flesh as something to be admired. Even with Henri, I’d always struggled to see myself as an object of desire. We spent our childhoods swimming naked and stripping to our undergarments to avoid the summer heat. Revealing my body to him had never felt like an intimate act, even after our activities had gone well beyond platonic.”

In this scene, Diem studies herself in the mirror and begins to see herself in a new way as she searches for her true self. Her reflections on her childhood with Henri Albanon reveal the innocent freedom of her youth, for she never had to consider the broader ramifications of being desirable to others. Now, faced with a complex tangle of personal desires and political obligations, she must weigh her strengths by a very different measure. At this moment, she has yet to fully relinquish the psychological limitations of her childhood relationships and experiences.

“‘Being mated isn’t just a relationship,’ Taran said, his expression equally aglow. ‘It changes you physically. Your bodies become two halves of a whole. If you’re away from your mate for too long, you get ill and your magic weakens. They say you can even die from it.’”

In this passage, Cole uses Taran Corbois’s description of the Descended’s mated relationships to enhance her overall world-building and to foreshadow revelations about Diem and Luther’s connection. Taran therefore functions as a narrative device in this scene by teaching Diem new things about how the Descended world works. This lesson provides crucial insight into Diem and Luther’s as-yet-unrealized love for one another, contextualizing the long-term significance of their intense, life-changing relationship.

“I’d almost given in that night. I’d convinced myself my family and friends would be better off without me and the trouble I always seemed to bring, then I’d lain down beside the murdered guard and invited death to fold me into its embrace. But the voice had refused to give up on me. My godhood had saved my life by forcing me back to my feet and reminding me of the strength that lived inside.”

Diem’s reflections on the past help her to understand her experiences in the present, fueling her progress on her Quest for Self-Discovery. To understand where she is going, she must process what she has experienced. Once she accepts that the gods “forc[ed] [er] back to [her] feet” and “remind[ed] [her] of the strength that live[s] inside,” she feels ready to accept her duties and her new identity. This moment of self-reflection therefore gives her new insight and hope.

“His chin settled on top of my head, and we burned together for a tiny eternity, saying nothing and too much all at once. It felt so natural to be held by him like this. So right in a way that didn’t make sense.”

Diem and Luther’s physical intimacy captures the tenderness of their emotional connection. As their bodies nestle together, with Luther’s chin “settl[ing] on top of [Diem’s] head,” the intimacy of their body language conveys a sense of both protectiveness and safety, illustrating their soul-deep connection and foreshadowing the fact that their relationship will serve both of them well.

“For a moment, I worried I might not have gone far enough. In this room, my dress seemed almost plain. But instead of letting it feed my insecurity, I made it into my own quiet strength. I didn’t need baubles or tricks to steal attention. I was the Queen, and I wore the Crown of Lumnos on my head.”

Diem’s appearance amidst the other royals momentarily causes her to doubt herself. Because her dress “seem[s] almost plain” in comparison to the Descended’s “baubles or tricks,” she falls briefly into the trap of believing that she does not belong amongst them. However, by summoning her “own quiet strength,” she can forget about her physical appearance and proceed boldly into this rarified space as though she were born to it. She is claiming her power not because of what she is wearing but because of who she is.

“Not even if you despise me. Not even if I am nothing to you. Because my calling comes from a higher authority than even you can claim, Your Majesty. As she guarded my heart, I will guard over yours. Even if it kills me.”

In this scene, Luther employs an insistent tone to convey his heartfelt feelings to Diem. He wants Diem to trust him and understand that he is fully loyal to her. He therefore invokes the formal phrase “Your Majesty” and uses short, clipped sentences that convey his desperation and authenticity. The passage’s last line also foreshadows Luther’s willingness to die for Diem on the day of the Challenging.

“How could I tell him that had been the worst night of my life? How could I explain that every time my magic stirred, it was a reminder of everything and everyone I would eventually lose? He couldn’t understand. None of them could. This was all they’d ever known. And even if they did, it didn’t change the reality of my situation: if I didn’t master my magic, I would be dead in weeks.”

The Burden of Leadership makes Diem feel alienated from everyone around her. She knows that Luther and her other Corbois cousins want to help her, but her new royal position isolates her from their friendly efforts. Furthermore, her inability to “master [her] magic” sets her apart from the other Descended and causes her to doubt herself and fear for her life.

“Just before he disappeared behind a corner, I caught his eye, and one emotion stared back at me with dreadful clarity—betrayal. No love. No trust. No hope. No attempt to understand. No willingness to forgive. Only betrayal. A heartbroken sob cracked out of me. The pain was visceral, overwhelming.”

Diem’s relationship with Henri intensifies the Challenges of Balancing Love and Duty that she already feels as presumptive queen. She wants her relationship with Henri to stay the same, but she despairingly realizes that their interaction in this scene is void of “love,” “trust,” “hope,” “understand[ing],” and “forgive[ness].” She therefore experiences a “visceral, overwhelming” pain when she understands that Henri’s view of her is changing, and she falls into an intense physical response that captures her conflicting desires to please others and to remain true to herself.

“Any other day, I would have cherished a night of dancing and drinking with friends. Tonight, though, the idea of twirling in a ball gown while the mortals lived in poverty, Henri languished in the dungeon, and Luther took on the Guardians had me feeling every bit the selfish Descended monster I once accused all the people in this palace of being.”

The social pressures of the Ascension Ball complicate Diem’s Quest for Self-Discovery. On its surface, the “night of dancing and drinking” should be enjoyable, but for Diem, the night feels burdensome because she is compelled to luxuriate in the event while ignoring other more pressing sociopolitical concerns. She therefore feels like a “selfish Descended monster” and experiences a sense of shame amidst her struggle to reconcile her two conflicting worlds.

“‘Even before you had the Crown, I felt her urging me toward you. The more I see of you, the more I understand why. She wants change, and she believes you can achieve it.’ His thumb brushed across my cheek. ‘And so do I.’”

In this scene of dialogue, Luther uses direct language to affect an honest and open tone and share his true feelings with Diem. His physical attraction to Diem feels fated by the gods because he believes in Diem as a ruler and a person. The image of him brushing his thumb across her cheek as he speaks evokes the tenderness that he feels for her, while his simple sentence structures convey his authenticity.

“Then I saw him. In the kitchen. The last place I’d stood with him in this home. Where I’d screamed at him, insulted him, broken his heart. Where I’d told him he wasn’t my father, then left and never came back. There he lay, in a lake of red, his body so terribly, impossibly still. Dead. My father was dead.”

The death of Diem’s father marks a turning point in her Quest for Self-Discovery. Before Andrei’s death, Diem feels caught between childhood and adulthood, and with the sight of his corpse, she is forced to abandon the very last shreds of her childhood. By juxtaposing the physical carnage of his demise with the emotional carnage of their previous argument, Diem conveys her deep sense of regret over their past estrangement and tries desperately to process this immense loss. The repetition of the word “dead” also captures her battle to comprehend the bald fact that her father is gone forever.

“His defeated expression said he didn’t, though traces of doubt lingered. I reached for him and he stiffened, and just like the day he’d found me in the palace, a desperate kind of frenzy began to overtake my better sense. I’d already lost my father, and now I was holding on to Henri by the barest thread. If I lost him, I feared I’d lose myself forever, too.”

In the wake of Andrei’s death, Diem finds herself clinging to the illusory threads of her previous life. She therefore fears letting go of Henri because she is afraid of abandoning the person she thought she was. For years, Diem has relied on her relationship with Henri to understand herself. Although she does still care for him, her true concern lies in her belief that if she lets him go, she will be betraying her former self. The passage captures the Challenges of Balancing Love and Duty that Diem experiences in her interpersonal relationships.

“And what about my heart? I’d been chasing one man and running from another, agonizing over promises and secrets, loyalties and expectations. I knew who scared me, who excited me, who gave me dread, and who gave me hope, but one question I hadn’t yet answered: Who did I want?”

This cascade of anxious questions reveals Diem’s progress toward a personal revelation. She is trying to make sense of what she feels and thus finds herself musing on the “promises and secrets, loyalties and expectations” that define her world. Instead of bending under the weight of these pressures, Diem realizes that she has to be true to herself if she wants to survive. The passage marks a pivotal shift in her Quest for Self-Discovery, as she is trying to follow her heart for the first time.

“I had been giving up. It was only his Challenge that had refueled my anger and rekindled my fighting spirit. I almost laughed at the irony. He had indeed saved me—just not in the way he planned.”

Diem’s interaction with Luther before the Challenging empowers her and motivates her to fight for her rightful place in the world. She decides not to give up and resolves to both save herself and protect her people. Her love for Luther therefore empowers her by helping her to reach this crucial moment of decision that will lead to her triumph during the Challenging.

“Just as I cherished the humanity and love that my mortal family had entitled in me, so, too, could I wield my immortality, my magic, and my Crown with pride. Both halves were necessary to make me whole, and I would not succeed in this war without accepting them both.”

Diem’s vision during the Challenging grants her the clarity to fully accept her new royal identity. Diem is learning how to reconcile her “humanity and love” with her “immortality,” “magic,” and “Crown.” The former qualities represent her mortal half, while the latter represent her Descended half. She wants to reconcile both aspects of who she is so that she can be true to herself and serve both her mortal and her Descended subjects.