The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(36)

“Thank you,” I said through gritted teeth.

As Auma led us out of the throne room, I glanced back. Razel spoke earnestly to Ericen, who still refused to look at her. Then the doors swung shut.

We retraced our steps, and Auma took us down a left-hand passage and up a flight of stairs. I eyed the girl as we went. Something was off about her.

Without Razel around, she walked taller, her shoulders back like a tree straightening after a strong wind, but it wasn’t that. I blinked, realizing she was studying me as much as I was her. She turned away without a flicker of expression.

What life had she led before coming here to serve a foreign queen, and what desperation had driven her into the heart of enemy territory? Employment? A conscripted family member? She didn’t have any tama, the marks Jin earned when they apprenticed themselves to a guild, which meant she’d likely been in Illucia since before her sixteenth birthday. Either way, she’d lost everything, something Kiva and I could relate to. Did the echoes of her past haunt her too?

Auma slowed outside an ornate wooden door where two Rhodairen guards had been posted. They bowed as we approached, and I nodded in return.

“His Highness sent word you would prefer a shared room.” Auma’s voice was quiet but not soft, like the gentle grumble of a jungle cat. She opened the door.

The chambers consisted of four rooms joined together. The entry opened to a sitting space with large, comfortable red couches set before an already roaring fire, which I eyed warily. Massive rugs stretched across portions of the stone ground, and behind one of the couches sat a round dark wood table and chairs. At the back of the room, a door led in each direction.

Another overture of friendship from Ericen. I was thankful he’d thought of it; I didn’t want to be far from Kiva.

Auma followed us inside, then moved to the center door at the back of the room and opened it to reveal a large bathing chamber. Then she pointed to the doors on either side of her in turn. “These lead to the bedrooms. Your things are inside.” Quick. Blunt. She certainly didn’t mince words.

“Thank you,” I said as she retreated.

She paused at the door. “Her Majesty requests your presence for dinner in an hour. I will return to escort you.” She bowed and left. I stared after her, finally realizing what was so strange: her footsteps didn’t make any sound. Where had she learned to walk like that?

“She’s an odd one.” Kiva’s gaze lingered at the doorway. “Cute though.”

I smirked and, recognizing my luggage, dashed across the sitting area to the room on the left. Sona lamps lit a spacious room of dark wood draped in blue and gold. Two tall, narrow windows let in the fading sunlight, and a plush black carpet warmed the dark floor at the foot of a massive bed piled high with pillows.

Kiva filled the doorway as I dropped beside the trunk with the egg, fishing the key from my pocket and unlocking it. Carefully, I pulled away the blankets, my mind filled with images of cracks and scattered shell pieces. The last blanket fell away, revealing the egg, whole and in perfect condition.

A knot released in my chest as I pulled the egg into my lap. Going days without feeling the connection between us had felt like a form of withdrawal. Now, the warm, reassuring feeling that spread through me when I touched it made me feel safe, as if the crow had shrouded me in its wings.

“Now what?” Kiva asked.

I ran my fingers along the shell, the humming of the egg working away at my anxiety. “First we get through dinner. Then I see about getting out of this damn castle.”

*

Unlike in Aris, where dinner was family and close friends, Razel held a full court. The banquet hall was wide with a high vaulted ceiling, a massive glass chandelier dangling from the center, and on a small platform built into the back, Razel sat with her distinguished guests. Tonight, that meant me.

Razel had stuck me between her and Ericen. On her other side sat a handsome nobleman in his late twenties, who Razel occasionally flattered with her attention.

We faced a room with four long tables, each filled with food and richly dressed lords and ladies. Or were they soldiers? I couldn’t tell the difference. Some wore thick shirts and pants with matching jackets so rigid, they looked like uniforms, others uniforms so suave and finely cut, they looked like suits.

How many of them had family members sitting on Rhodaire’s border, threatening my people?

From my place at Razel’s table, I could see the sneers the rest of the room tossed in my direction. They stared with open disdain, their expressions made more hostile by the weapons they all carried. Mostly straight swords after Illucian custom, but some had baldrics of knives across their chests or simple daggers at their waists.

What I didn’t expect was the way they looked at each other, as if each tablemate were an opponent to be outmaneuvered and destroyed. I’d learned from tutors that even among families, Illucians cared only about competition for rank and prestige, but the way they looked at each other made my skin crawl. They were like wolves looking for a weak spot, their postures rigid in preparation to strike and scramble up the ranks.

Kiva sat at one of those tables, her elbows spread to each side to create space. We locked gazes across the room, and she flashed me a sharp smile to show she was all right.

“I do hope she’s not planning on skewering anyone tonight,” Ericen remarked. He lounged in his chair in a lithe, imperious way, as if the chair should be grateful to hold him. His expression held an air of disinterest, and once again, I saw the arrogant, vicious prince who’d ridden into Rhodaire.