The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(22)

I’d begun this tour with renewed confidence, then let Ericen take it from me without so much as a fight. My whole life, I had fought: for my mother’s approval, for my place as a rider, for my skills and strength and knowledge. I’d pushed unwaveringly, and when I had met a wall, I’d shattered it.

When had I stopped fighting?

No more. I was done.

Forcing a sharp smile, I met his gaze. “You know everything, don’t you? Who I am, what to say to make me react, how to use my people’s history against me. But if you truly knew everything, you would know better than to piss me off.”

“Are you threatening me, Princess?” His eyes flashed.

I kept my voice low enough that only we could hear. “Do you feel threatened? You’re practically alone in an enemy kingdom filled with people who would line up for the chance to personally disembowel you.”

“If a single person here touched me—”

“Your mother would rain down upon us with the full strength of the Illucian army. Yes, I heard you the first time.”

His jaw clenched, but I kept talking. “Don’t worry. No one’s going to touch a single hair on your pretty little head. But Saints damn me if I keep my mouth shut again. Your mother didn’t demand this engagement just so you could end it because your skin isn’t thick enough.”

He stared at me, eyes narrowed. I waited, my heart thundering in my chest, filling my ears with a roaring. What if I’d been wrong? What if this marriage really was simply a way for Razel to torment us further, and she would happily let it dissolve at her son’s whim?

Finally, the prince smirked. “Not as useless as I thought, it seems.” Tension washed from my shoulders, and he continued, “But I would advise you to remember that I have an army on your border, and your kingdom needs this. We don’t.”

I straightened, keeping a neutral mask. A small victory. He still held the power, but at least I knew, to some extent, Illucia wanted this marriage to happen. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t wait for his approval before urging the group on to the Garien Wing, once home of the storm crows.

As we passed quickly along the light stone buildings, their windows shining with stained glass of amethyst and saffron, cerulean and gold, each color flowing into the next like a sunset, I felt endlessly lighter. Better yet, Ericen remained quiet throughout the ride, even as we crossed into the Cyro Wing, where the memory of fire crows lingered in the scorch marks on buildings and in the street.

I glanced at my burned arm before I could stop myself, and when I lifted my head, Ericen was staring too. My face flushed, but I didn’t look away, waiting for the snide remark. Nothing came.

As we passed beneath a row of pale pink orchid trees, a hummingbird flitted out from behind the tree and zipped over to him, hovering excitedly at eye level. He watched it curiously, trying to track its movements as it jumped around his head, then sped off.

I blinked. He was smiling. Not the wolf grin that made my skin crawl. An actual, human smile. He saw me staring and quickly turned away, making a show of adjusting his grip on his reins.

He could smile at a bird, but me he had to drive wild?

“Princess! Princess!”

A trio of small boys came running toward us, their harried mother calling after them a step behind. The smallest of the three broke ahead, a broad grin across his face. One of my guards shifted, but I waved him away, and he allowed the boy to approach.

The boy raised his hand in offering. A single daffodil rested between his small fingers, the petals stark white as snow. Behind him, a trail of them led back to his mother and brothers, having slipped from his hand in his race to reach me.

I took the flower, the beginnings of a smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you.”

His mother called for him then, and the boy flashed me another grin before rejoining her. She bowed her head, and I nodded, watching them disappear down the road.

“When you’re done entertaining the riffraff,” Ericen intoned, “I’d like to get out of this miserable heat.”

We moved on to the Caravel Wing, once home to the city’s sun crows. After Ronoch, their absence had been felt the strongest. The crows’ healing abilities had been sorely needed. Nearly half the wing was educated in the healing arts, but they hadn’t been nearly enough to help all the injured.

I ran a finger along my scars, the daffodil still clutched against my palm. A sun crow could have healed the wounds before they scarred. They could have saved Estrel. For a selfish second, I wished the egg I’d found had been a sun crow. But that wasn’t what Rhodaire needed to survive.

Aris was crumbling bit by bit, more than I had realized. Seeing it had been painful. Seeing Ericen witness it had been worse. Though that pain lingered, this time, it didn’t overwhelm me. I couldn’t stop myself from snapping at Ericen, but as I watched his proud form, head held high, riding like a conqueror surveying his prize, I found I didn’t care.

I wanted him to know that I was angry, that as close as I’d come, I had not been defeated. Rhodaire had not been defeated.

I wanted him to know I would still fight.





Seven


Once home, I washed and changed for dinner, which Caliza had condemned me to eat with Ericen. We had to keep up appearances, but I would have rather stayed hungry, even though my appetite had started to return.