As a noble, Kiva would never have been allowed to join the Miska, a unit of all-female warriors known for their unparalleled swordsmanship.
I sat up, asking carefully, “All this because your mother married?”
Kiva snorted. “All this because she married a Northman from beyond the Cut, and for barely a day.”
“Before they forced her to leave?”
“Before they killed him.”
I recoiled. “You’ve never told me this.”
“It’s not really mine to tell,” she said softly. “But I think I needed to.”
Sliding off the bed, I came to sit cross-legged before her. Her sword lay between us, a ripple of night against my bright carpet.
“We can name it?” I suggested. “Not for the reasons they would, but in spite of them. Maybe something from the old language. Don’t the Northmen still speak it?”
She nodded, the shadows in her eyes receding. “My mother tried to teach me. I don’t know much.” Her brow furrowed before a grin spread across her lips.
“I’ll name it Sinvarra.” The old-language word was like a growl in her throat. “It means spite.”
Ten
Caliza had organized most of my packing. She’d even supervised the removal of clothes from my closet, ensuring no one so much as touched the armoire drawer hiding the egg. The morning of my departure, all I had to do was wrap the egg in as many blankets as I could find and settle it gently into a trunk.
The idea of taking it on such a long journey, deep into enemy territory, made my stomach turn. But Caliza had been right. I was our best bet.
I folded my flying leathers on top and added my black gold bow, then used a couple of pillows to prevent the egg from rolling around. Then I locked it and didn’t let the servants carry it out until they’d sworn to do so with the utmost care. I still ended up following them down to the courtyard to watch them load it.
When they were done, I started back to my room to do a last check for belongings to take with me, my mind lost in daydreams of hatching the crow, of feeling the wind against my skin again and the endless strength of a crow beneath me.
I almost walked straight into Ericen. He caught me, and I reeled back from his touch. He grinned. “Where are you coming from in such a state? You’re practically glowing.”
I tried to step past him, but he wouldn’t let me. Scowling, I stepped back. “What, Ericen?”
“You know, that’s the first time you’ve addressed me by name.”
“Is there a point to this? Because I have things to do.”
His smile faded, as if my abruptness had bothered him. “We’re going to be traveling together for nearly a week. And if you haven’t forgotten, we’re engaged.” It took effort not to cringe at those words. “I thought you and I should…I don’t know. Start over.”
“Start over?” I laughed. “Is this a joke or just more of your games?”
“Neither. I mean it. I’m not what you think. What would I get out of lying to you?”
“The usual sick pleasure.”
He sighed, moving out of my way. “Just think about it, please. It’d certainly make traveling a lot better.”
I stalked past him, keeping my expression neutral though my mind was a maelstrom of thoughts. Flustered by the conversation, nervous about leaving, anxious about the egg, I felt like a storm readying to break. I needed air.
Diverting from the stairs, I walked quickly down the hall and out through a side door that opened onto the south grounds. Crisp morning air cooled the fire in my veins, but it couldn’t settle the turbulence gathering inside me.
One moment, Ericen dug so far under my skin I wanted to pummel him, and the next, he acted like he’d been misunderstood. I hated these games, the deception and confusion. I wanted straightforward. I wanted clear lines and paths that didn’t split.
I followed a winding dirt path through the gardens to the royal graveyard. A black metal fence surrounded dark stone mausoleums spread across thick grass, and I had to navigate to their center to find the simple grave my mother had requested. A small crow statue perched on the tombstone with wings spread, fallen leaves scattered across the grave.
For several minutes, I simply stared at the grave, breathing in the crisp morning air. I never knew what to say to my mother. In my memories, she was always turning away from me, always sweeping into another room when I was nearby, quick to put a solid door between us. Even in death, anything I could say, anything I could do, felt inadequate. Always inadequate—it was practically my motto.
“I hope you know what a mess you’ve left us in.” My hands curled into fists at my sides. “You should have told me. You should have trusted me. Now I have a chance to save Rhodaire, but I don’t know how, all because you had to do everything yourself.”
My throat tightened, but the words pushed through. “You never should have gone into that damn rookery!”
A nearby tree shook as a startled bird took flight. Leaves dislodged by its sudden movement fluttered through the air and resounding silence, settling on the grave. Something shifted inside me, like a rope given slack after an age of being pulled too tight.
“All this is because of you,” I whispered to the silence, to the earth, to the gravestone. To the memory that slept underneath. “And now you’re not even here to help us.”
My mother and I may not have been close, but in a way, she’d held us all together, held our kingdom together. Her death had splintered mine and Caliza’s relationship, sent me spiraling down inside myself, and set our kingdom unraveling.
Her legacy haunted us all, casting a shadow I couldn’t outrun. Even in Illucia, people had known her name, affording her a grudging respect even as they cursed her. They’d called her Crow Queen.
My fists closed tighter. Caliza had tried to be our mother and failed. I had failed too. We would always fail, and maybe that was for the best. We didn’t need to be her. I didn’t need to be her.
I needed to be better.
“Goodbye, Mother.” I set my hand on the tombstone.
A vibration like an earthquake shot up my arm. I tried to pull away, but my hand wouldn’t move. Voices in a foreign language echoed in my head, flashes of trees and silver eyes swirling in my vision. Then everything shifted violently. I smelled the warmth and hay of a rookery, felt the heat of flames, saw Illucian soldiers dying all around me—then a man with eyes like golden fire.
In an instant, it was over. My hand came off the tombstone, and I stumbled to the side, breathing hard.
I bolted for the castle, trying and failing to process what had happened. Had I hallucinated? The stress and nerves were finally getting to me. I was cracking.
I sprinted inside, up the stairs, and into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me and falling back against it. It took several minutes before my breathing and racing heart even began to calm.
“Nothing happened,” I whispered to myself. “You’re fine. Nothing happened.”
Except my fingers still tingled from the touch. And the vibration… It had felt familiar, like a massive jolt of the feeling I got when I touched the egg. Magic?
The door shook, and I yelped, leaping off it and whirling around. It clicked open, revealing a bemused and uncertain Kiva. She raised an eyebrow, but I shook my head.
“It’s time,” she said.
* * *
Ericen’s carriage looked overloaded with both our belongings, and we ended up hitching a wagon to a couple of horses to lighten the load. Then suddenly, everything was ready. Ericen had already climbed inside, a package tucked under one arm.
“Are you sure you don’t want your own carriage?” Caliza asked, worrying at a few strands of hair with one hand.
I shook my head. “I have to learn to deal with him. Besides, the better I know him, the better off I’ll be. Whether that means outsmarting him or having
one Illucian in that damned kingdom who doesn’t want to stab me in the back.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “For all your worrying, you forget I’m a trained rider. Crow or not, I can still kick someone’s ass.”
She flashed a brief smile that turned into a grimace. “I just hope you don’t have to.”
I dropped my voice. “I won’t stop trying to hatch the egg. We’ll find a way to win the other kingdoms’ support. This isn’t over.”
She flung her arms around me, hugging tighter than ever before. I returned the embrace, trying to memorize the way it felt. If things didn’t go as planned, it may be a while before I hugged my sister again.
“Keep your head down,” she whispered. “I know it’ll be hard, but don’t give Razel a reason to pay attention to you. Don’t make her angry. She can be…unpredictable.”
I nodded but didn’t let go. Maybe if I never did, the world would just pause. I wouldn’t have to go. Rhodaire would be okay.
Caliza squeezed tighter, and finally, we pulled apart. She smiled, and I returned it. “Here.” I undid the clasp of Estrel’s bracelet, then wrapped it around her thin wrist. Her breath caught as I secured it.
“Keep this safe for me,” I said. “I’ll be back for it.”
Caliza’s jaw set, and she nodded. I stepped reluctantly away.
Kiva made a mock grand gesture toward the open carriage door from where she sat on a dappled mare. “Your handsome prince awaits you.” Though she smiled, I could see the tightness in it, the pain behind her eyes. This was difficult for her too. She was losing everything.
I pretended to gag, eliciting a laugh, but she wasn’t wrong.
With a final wave to Caliza, I climbed inside, and a servant shut the door, silencing the outside noises.
The sudden quiet was deafening. It pressed in on me like a flood, and I imagined myself throwing open the carriage door and leaping out. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to curl up in my bed under the covers and—no. I’m doing this. This was my opportunity to help my people, my friends, and my family. To help myself.
The carriage set off, passing through the castle gates. The hum of voices changed. Conversation turned to shouting. My jaw set—protests had been growing in the streets. The news of the engagement had spread, and people weren’t happy. Caliza would be hearing from the house lords and ladies before morning.
People would think she’d cracked under pressure, that she’d forgotten the past too easily. Caliza would suffer the whispers, the mistrustful glares, because she could and because it kept our people safe from the knowledge of how close we’d come to war.
Swallowing hard, I faced Ericen and found him watching me intently.
“I have a present for you.” He offered me the package that had been under his arm.
Eying him skeptically, I took it, removing the ribbon and pulling off the lid. The scent of orange flooded the carriage in a flurry of powdered sugar. He’d gotten me a box of orange cakes from the House Cyro cart at the canal.
I stared at the cakes, then at him, entirely caught off guard. “What game are you playing?”
“No game. Can’t a man buy his fiancée a present?”
“A man, yes. A cold-blooded snake, not so much.”
He laughed, the sound like needles of ice prickling my skin. “And here I was trying to be nice. I can do that on occasion, you know.”
I closed the box and set it aside. “Are you saying you’re not normally a prick?”
“Oh no, I am. Just usually a more charming one.”
I snorted. “If by charming, you mean arrogant.”
“If by arrogant, you mean extremely capable, then yes, we agree.”
I stared flatly at him. “Is this your attempt at a truce? Because you’re failing miserably.”
He smiled back, draping himself along the bench like a sunning cat. “Do you hate me because I’m Illucian?”
“I hate you for a lot of reasons.”
His lips twitched. “Fair enough, but perhaps I’m not so bad as you think.”
“You’re right,” I replied. “You’re worse.”
“Come now, Princess. I was just having a little fun.” He leaned forward, his pale gaze trapping me like a specimen for study in a glass case. “What better way to learn about my fiancée than to push you to the edge and see how you reacted?” His voice turned teasing. “People are their truest selves at their most desperate.”
My face flushed with heat. “My truest self wants to throw you out of this carriage and let the horses trample you.”
He laughed, sprawling back in his seat once more. “Part of you likes this game as much as I do, or you wouldn’t be so quick to play it with me.”
“This isn’t a game!” I snapped. It was so much more than that, not that he cared.
The amusement in Ericen’s face faltered. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he looked confused. As if he hadn’t expected me to get genuinely angry.
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “This was meant to be a peace offering. Clearly, I’ve handled it miserably. The last thing I want is for you to hate me. We are, after all, engaged.”
Engaged. The word settled around my shoulders like a scarf, one twist away from strangling me.
“What do you want?” I asked.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “To start over.”
I didn’t know how to respond. This had to be part of his game. Maybe he’d seen he couldn’t break me, so now he wanted to manipulate me. I met his gaze, reading the sincerity behind it. It meant nothing. A day ago, he’d been equally as convincing in his malice.
He let the conversation drop after that, and I was grateful. I didn’t know how to react to this strange attempt at civility. Liar, my instincts screamed. Murderer. Illucian. But my curiosity demanded I see everything. His smile, his wonder at the crows, his guard mocking him for being distraught over the Jin man’s fake death.
It’s all a game to him, I reminded myself. Those moments had been like everything else about him: carefully calculated to elicit a specific response. Whatever reason he had for playing nice—well, his approximation of nice—it was for his own gain and nothing more. Anyone who could shift through emotions like masks couldn’t be trusted.
And soon, I’d be surrounded by an entire kingdom just like him.
* * *
The days passed quickly, during which Ericen and my conversations remained mostly limited to bouts of verbal sparring. He couldn’t seem to resist the urge to dig his claws under my skin, but it was different than before. His words were playful and teasing, not the vicious cuts he’d inflicted in Rhodaire. Part of me reveled in the challenge.
In moments of silence, I planned. My first goal in Illucia would be to secure some measure of autonomy. I would need a hobby or a friend, something no one would question when I left the castle.
We camped rather than stop in towns for lodging, and I noticed that though Ericen sat with his men, he rarely spoke to them. In the free hours before and after dinner, Kiva and I would slip away to train. A short run followed by sparring and weapons training that made my body ache.
It’d been too long since I’d exercised, too long since I’d held my bow in my hands. Each maneuver and shot, technique and drill, threatened to make me think of Estrel. My wrist felt empty without her bracelet, but I sealed the memories away and pushed harder. In a kingdom of bloodthirsty soldiers, I had to be able to defend myself.
On the fourth day, we reached the border.
I heard the army before I saw it. Voices echoed across the camp, intermixing with the whinny of horses and the clatter of metal. My nails dug into my palms, and I forced my hands to relax. Ericen claimed we were only going to stop for fresh horses, but even a breath was too long a time spent surrounded b
y banners of blue and gold.
Don’t look out the window.
Calls went up as the carriage broke through the first line of tents. I could feel Ericen’s eyes on me. My own bore into the corner of the carriage, colors flashing at the edges of my vision as the camp flew by.
“We’ll be quick,” he said.
My gaze slid to meet his. “Why hasn’t the army pulled back?”
“My mother has ordered it to remain until the marriage is official.”
Heat pooled in my stomach. “If they touch a single Rhodairen—”
“I have no doubt you’d happily gut us all. Don’t worry. Their orders are very clear, and they will obey them.” He paused, then added softly, “So long as things continue as planned.”
It wasn’t a threat but a warning. Razel wouldn’t hesitate to use this army to ensure her plans weren’t disrupted.
The carriage slowed, and despite myself, I glanced out the window. The rows of blue-and-gold tents were endless, an ocean of vicious weeds.
My skin prickled. This was only half Razel’s army?
When Ericen didn’t move, I turned back to him. “Not going to visit with your soldiers?”
“Like I said. This will be quick.” His voice was low and sharp.
Sure enough, the horses were exchanged without much fanfare, and with a few final hollers between soldiers, we set off again. I stared out the window, the army passing in a blur of horses and blue.
So close. They were so close to Rhodaire, and there was so little we could do against them. Without the crow, without the aid of the other kingdoms, these soldiers would destroy us.
* * *
The air grew colder as we journeyed farther north, the nights even more so, until I had to sleep in sweaters or inside the carriage to keep warm.
The Storm Crow Page 10