The Storm Crow (The Storm Crow, #1)(82)

His smile faded, but he slipped from the ring, leading me over to the edge of the courtyard and into the healer’s quarters. The healer leapt up.

“Your Highnesses.” She bowed her head to us both. “Is something wrong with your hand?”

“No, thank you,” I replied. “Can you please give us the room?”

She nodded and gathered a few pieces of paperwork before exiting through the door we’d entered.

“I wanted to talk to you about last night,” I began. His expression darkened, and I hesitated but pressed on. “You seemed upset, and I kept thinking about it, and I…well, do you ever think about leaving? Abandoning it all and going?” More direct than I’d meant, but either Ericen was willing to hear me out or he wasn’t. And if he wasn’t… I shoved the thought away. He wouldn’t tell Razel, would he?

“Now that you mention it, I could use a vacation,” he replied. “If you were me, would you risk the freezing ice lands of Korovi or the sea serpents off the Trendell coast? My options are rather limited. Not very popular, you see.”

I smacked the back of his head lightly, earning myself a grin. “Serious answers.”

Leaning back against one of the supply tables, he crossed his arms. The grin faded as he let his gaze wander along the room, looking everywhere but at me. “Sometimes,” he said hesitantly, then as if regretting it, added, “But it would be disgraceful.”

Him and his stupid honor. Why did one of his most redeeming qualities have to be one that kept getting in my way?

“My mother would send the Vykryn after me,” he continued. “Sometimes I swear she’s waiting for a reason to. Hells, Shearen would volunteer in a heartbeat. He seems to have it in his head if I’m out of the way, she’ll make him Valix instead.”

Even as he said it, the heat faded from his words, and I wondered if he hated Shearen as much as he seemed to. Whatever burned between them, it seemed incapable of completely destroying the bond they’d once had.

I leaned against the table beside him. “How could you serve someone like that?” I asked. “Someone who would willingly send people to hunt down and kill her own son?”

I was pushing against some invisible boundary, and any minute, it might shatter and send me careening off an edge. But I needed to do this, not just because Ericen would be an asset but also because if my plan worked, I’d be leaving him behind.

I’d never have thought that would matter to me.

Ericen laughed mirthlessly. “What else would I do? Where would I go? She’d hunt me clear into the Eastern Wastelands.”

“You could come to Rhodaire. With me.” Even as I said the words, I marveled at them. How had we gotten here? “We could protect you.”

Doubt flickered across his face, drawing forth a spurt of indignation into my chest, though I understood. He didn’t know what I did about Res or the alliances being formed against his kingdom.

He didn’t respond. I could see his indecision, see him thinking maybe I’d said those things because I felt the same way he did. I felt something for him, something that made me want to get him out of here for his own sake as much as mine, but it wasn’t the same thing I had experienced with Caylus.

“I’ve worked my entire life to become a Vykryn,” he said.

“Your people don’t give you the respect you deserve.”

“They see the way my mother dismisses me, and they do the same. If I win the Centerian, I can earn her respect.” His hands tightened on the table edge. “I shouldn’t even react to it. I shouldn’t care. It’s half the reason people look at me the way they do.”

I pushed off the table, stepping in front him. “You don’t deserve it. You can make another choice.”

He met my gaze, holding it like a drowning man clinging to driftwood. His eyes searched mine, looking for something that wasn’t there. He looked away.

Shouting echoed in from the courtyard. Ericen’s eyes snapped to a spot above my head, and he pushed off the table, hurrying to open the door. I darted to his side in time to see Shearen at the front of a small formation of soldiers.

“Kiran, Seina, Raelynn.” Shearen eyed each soldier as he named them.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“He’s forming a team for something.” Ericen stepped into the courtyard, and I followed.

“Marin,” Shearen continued. Then his head jerked up, eyes falling on us. A cruel smile spread across his lips. “Ericen.”

Ericen stiffened, and I almost screamed. He’d been listening. He’d been about to say yes!

“Her Majesty has informed me a servant by the name of Auma is actually a rebel spy,” Shearen said. “We’ve been tasked with retrieving her. Any questions?”

“No, sir!” the soldiers said in unison, save for Ericen.

“Then move out.”

My mouth had gone dry, my throat rough as sand. That was why Auma had stolen the letter for me—she was a rebel, working against Razel for years. Had she run because Razel found her out?

I found Ericen’s eyes. “Don’t go.”

He hesitated, his expression fraught. This was the end of our conversation. This was his decision.

“I have to.” He didn’t look back as he joined the group of selected soldiers gathering beside Shearen.