“You nearly sounded like her that time,” I said with a small smile.
I returned to my room, where my bed sat warm and inviting with the promise that if I climbed under the covers, everything would be okay again when I came out. My people wouldn’t hate me, Ericen wouldn’t be arriving tomorrow, and the crow would hatch and protect us from Illucia.
I didn’t try to fight it.
Four
The next morning, I lay beneath the darkness and warmth of the covers and tried not to think about what was coming. I’d never met Prince Ericen, but everything about Illucia made my stomach turn. Their vain focus on appearances, their militaristic lifestyle, their cold, rainy weather; I hated it all.
Groaning, I rolled over to face the massive floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of my room. Windows meant to open for crows. The sight made me feel even worse. I’d been trying to convince myself to get up for hours.
On the nightstand beside my bed, papers had been tossed in a haphazard pile. Letters. Some were from riders and house lords and ladies, others from soldiers I’d sparred with during training. Some were even from Caliza, written in invisible ink made from shadow crow feathers, like we’d done as children. All failed attempts to cheer me up. All asking if I was okay, if they could help. I didn’t deserve it.
Useless.The word echoed in my head, and images from my ride through the city yesterday joined it. People selling fake mementos on the dusty ground, Brynth masons with ice in their eyes, that little girl silently asking me why.
A fire kindled in my chest, but it wasn’t the first time I had lain there and let it die.
Someone knocked, and Kiva entered. The dullness in her normally bright eyes was stark, and her characteristically perfect braid was loose and frayed.
I frowned. “Don’t you have morning training?”
“My mother decided she wanted to take over for now.” She sat on the edge of my bed.
“Are you all right?” The question came out before I could stop it, and her reaction was what I expected.
Her jaw set, eyes narrowing. “I’m fine.”
I sighed, forcing the questions back down with the utmost restraint.
“You’re still in bed,” she noted.
I looked away, and something squirmed in my stomach. This was the worst part. The moment when I knew I needed to act, but my body refused to comply. With only days to hatch the egg, I needed a plan. But the need felt like it’d been swallowed by quicksand, there but buried.
You’re running out of time. Move.
Nothing.
“I could go get the bucket of water”—Kiva stopped with a smile as I shot her a glare—“or you can at least sit up.”
Grudgingly, I pushed myself up against the headboard and pulled the covers above my chest. This was ridiculous. Ericen would be here soon, and as much as I wanted to stay hidden in my room, I had to accept what was happening and handle it like a princess of Rhodaire should.
Problem was, the feeling inside me didn’t care about what I had to do. It didn’t care that I wanted to help Rhodaire, that I wanted to restore normalcy and peace and happiness. All it did was remind me that if I couldn’t even do those things for myself, I sure as Saints couldn’t do anything for Rhodaire.
“Take a few deep breaths,” Kiva said.
I forced air deep into my lungs, then back out. Already, my head felt a little clearer.
“Sit beside me.”
I moved to the edge of the bed. She stood. Slowly, I did too.
“Now get dressed. I’ll be back to get you soon.”
I marched into my closet, still feeling tired but better. That was always Kiva’s point—I had to take everything one step at a time. I just wished she’d letmehelpher.
Kneeling before my armoire, I pulled open the bottom drawer, shifting aside sweaters to reveal the egg. I ran my fingers along the smooth shell, and the quiet humming danced up my arm, settling my stomach and chasing away the snake coiled about my neck.
Bonds weren’t formed between crow and rider until after the hatching, and yet something about the connection between the egg and me felt intensely personal. It made me feelseen.Like the crow inside already knew me and I, it.
