“This is your Key.”
It was slim elegant translucent node glowed faintly on the inside edge.
“When worn it records and annotates spoken Crow tongue in your vicinity. It will build your lexicon, word by word. You will be able to replay, slow, and translate on your datapad. It also allows your husband and handler to push lessons and corrections directly to you.”
“So you can monitor what I understand,” I said.
“So you are not left defenseless when others are speaking around you,” he corrected. “Crows drop in and out of dialect as easily as breath. You will be expected to follow. And eventually, to lead.”
My chest tightened.
“You are expected to become fluent. To speak, read, and write it. Crow tongue is a privilege. Only blood and bond are given access. It is not to be taught. It is not to be recorded outside sanctioned devices. You will sign a language oath before your first lesson.”
My mind pulled up memories I didn’t want.
Vince, how he would switch between English and dialect. How I would remind him I wasn’t fluent in his tongue. Dynasties taught common phases learned at the chamber table.
But the memory that chose to haunt me now. Vince teaching me to say ‘I love you, Daddy,’ in Crow tongue.”
Sitting here now, staring at the official version—a ring, a slate, a parchment oath—the memory hit so hard my eyes burned.
I blinked fast, swallowing against the ache in my throat.
“So this is… what?” I gestured to it. “A language course with accessories?”
“This is the Tongue Rite,” the handler said. “Traditionally, it is bestowed after the crest is inked but before the Lock-In begins. In your case, due to timing, you are being grantedpreliminary access now. Your formal induction will take place on Crow Island, under your husband’s supervision.”
My stomach turned.
“During the rite, your Key will be locked by his ring. Your first lessons will be spoken by him. He will choose your initial phrases. Most wives begin with vows. Some begin with questions. A few,” his gaze flickered, a trace of something almost like humour, “begin with insults, if they are braver than they are cautious.”
A hysterical laugh nearly escaped. I swallowed it down. Of course there were other wives who hated this as well.
“You will keep the Ledger close. Along with the Codex. They are separate bindings, but they work together. Law and language. The Crow dynasty does not break brides,” he added. “It refines them.”
I stared at the open case.
“I think I might be sick,” I murmured.
“That is not uncommon.”
He pushed the Codex toward me, then closed the Tongue Ledger with a soft click and nudged that forward too. The weight of both shifted the air.
“You will take them with you. Tradition requires proximity during the first night.”
“Why?”
“The book recognizes its bride. The Ledger recognizes the first voice she chooses to trust.”
The words chilled me. As if ink and glass and a ring could think. Though with the power they held, it felt like they already did.
He stepped back and bowed.
“Welcome to the Crow dynasty, Madeline Thorne.”
Then he left.
Just like that, I had been absorbed and it was just as terrifying as everyone made it sound.
