“Why don’t you knock that down? It’s useless now.”
My spine went rigid, and I turned to look at Ericen. He stared at the remains of the rookery with a critical frown. When I didn’t respond, he glanced at me.
Every muscle turned to stone. “Say something like that again and I’ll—”
“What?” he asked. “What will you do, Princess? Yell? Curse? Hurt me?” He laughed, and the sound ripped into my chest like talons. “If you so much as touch me, if you push me too far, I’ll end this engagement and Rhodaire’s future along with it.” His eyes glinted like sunlight against the tundra. “Give me a reason.”
My words turned to ash in my throat, smothering my breath. Fire and frost danced along my skin like the waves of a fever as I fought to move, to think, to breathe. But all I could picture was the army on our border, the rows and rows of cavalry and archers who would kill without thought or mercy.
Ericen shook his head pityingly. “What am I saying? This is the girl who’s been hiding in her room for months. You’re not going to do anything, are you? Cowards never do.” His gaze flicked over me again before he kicked his horse into a trot down the street.
A heartbeat. Two. Still, I couldn’t follow.
Coward.
I’d leave him lost in the streets, spook his horse into throwing him off, lead him down a dark alley and—No. He was right. I couldn’t do so much as scratch him, or he might end everything. Somehow, I had to stay calm, had to keep from letting him push me off the edge.
Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, I urged my horse onward.
We passed through the Kerova Wing, once home to the shadow crows. The clatter of our horse’s hooves echoed like an unanswered call, the hot air still and thick with humidity, making me long for the mist water crows used to trail in their wakes as they soared overhead.
“There’s not much to see here,” Ericen said. His rough voice stuck out like a dove among crows.
“Then let’s move on.” While Ericen saw nothing, my eyes found only shuttered windows and smoke-stained walls, all blurring with memories of a night filled with fire and blood.
We went through the Turren Wing next, once home to the battle crows. Smiths called prices above the din of hammers and conversation, standing behind tables laden with weapons or in open doorways to larger storerooms. Thick heat wafted from outdoor forges, now small and hand-fed. There’d been a time when the Turren smiths shared the heat and power of the central forge, a massive structure at the heart of the wing that had fed countless other forges. Without fire crows to keep it blazing, it now lay cold and dormant.
Ash smudged the stone and brick buildings, sparks crackling like snapping bone. I stuck to the center of the broad streets, well away from any flames, and focused on my breathing. We still had over half the tour to go; I couldn’t lose it now.
Ericen cast a disdainful look down at the beggars lining the streets. Half the shops were closed, many sellers ousted to small tables along the main road without enough money for rent. He had no idea what these people had once done, the magic they’d once created.
The first time I saw a battle crow armor up, its feathers turning sleek and metallic, I’d screamed. At four years old, I’d thought the crow was dying. Then it’d released one of its gold-veined black feathers like an arrow, and a Turren smith had dropped it into a melting pot over a simmering fire. When Estrel had explained it was how we made black gold, a rare metal stronger than the finest steel, I’d prayed to the Saints for a black gold weapon of my own.
Estrel remembered. She gave me my bow for my tenth birthday.
Ericen slowed his horse to walk alongside mine. “Does it unsettle you, knowing your people could betray you again at any moment?”
My head snapped toward him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh? I know before either of us was born, a group of your Turren riders attacked my mother’s family on an unsanctioned mission to avenge your father’s death. I know they were relieved of their crows and Lord Turren was banished.” He moved his horse closer, the hot flesh of the beast’s muscular body pressing against my leg. I couldn’t move away without threatening to step on the items laid out for sale or the people tending them.
Ericen continued, his voice soft and slow, savoring each word. “I know when my mother came to Lord Turren, offering him the power and prestige he once had, he sold his loyalty to her, and his men’s loyalty, and helped us destroy every single crow.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away, trying to block him out, to block the memories out.After the fires had burned to cinders and only the smoke remained, people had wanted blood. Caliza had to show them she was taking action, but nearly half our army came from the Turren Wing. The people she needed to enforce the hunt for traitors had been suspects themselves.
And I’d done nothing but hide in my bed.
Coward.
Slowly, I became aware of something digging into my skin and looked down. I’d twisted the reins around and around my wrists and hands, tethering myself to the spot.
Ericen let out a low, rumbling laugh and dismounted with two of his guards to look at the weapons set out for sale. I stared at my hands, adrenaline leaking from my muscles like water from a punctured jug.
Today was only the second day of my time with Ericen. I couldn’t face an eternity with him.
Loosing a quiet breath, I unwound the reins to reveal angry red and white flesh and stiff fingers. I massaged my hands and scanned the crowd, spotting Ericen at a nearby table and his men at the one across from it.
Even without black gold, Turren weapons were still highly sought after, but the glowering eyes of several smiths made it clear Ericen and his men weren’t welcome. Others, desperate for any coin, called them to their tables, forming a line of tension that turned the air thick.
