“You don’t understand.”
“I understand just fine,” she hissed back. “I understand that you—” She stopped, biting back her words.
“What, Kiva?”
Her jaw set, the turmoil in her eyes resolving into determination. “That you feel like you spent so long doing nothing that now you have to do everything. Train Res, secure the alliance, save Ericen, save the whole damned continent. But you don’t, Thia.”
Her words drew claws over a raw part of me. She wasn’t wrong, not entirely. I did want to prove that I could do this. I wanted to prove myself the leader I’d always wanted to be.
I am more.
“That’s not why I’m doing this,” I said. “I’m doing it because it’s right. You helped me learn not to give up on myself, Kiva. I can do the same for him.”
“And she is really good at it.”
We both looked at Caylus.
He shrugged at Kiva’s disapproving frown. “You know it’s true. Thia could befriend a rabid jungle cat.”
“That’s exactly what she’s trying to do,” Kiva griped. She glowered at Ericen as Res hopped over to where the prince had been retied to the tree.
A look of mild wonder slackened Ericen’s features, an expression that had slipped through more than once back in Rhodaire. Despite the role he’d been playing, he hadn’t been able to hide his interest in the crows. They fascinated him. It was that fascination that’d first led me to start trusting him.
“Look,” I said. “Even Res likes him.”
Kiva snorted. “Right. Let’s trust the magical stork’s opinion.”
“Kiva.”
“Fine!” She threw up her hands. “I won’t interfere. But I’ll be watching him.”
Fourteen
The next morning, we rode in silence through golden grasslands and fields thick with wheat. The path we followed was well maintained, nothing but grasslands and scattered trees in all directions, save for the occasional town we passed through.
The vineyards appeared as we grew closer to Eselin, lines of pale, woody vines resembling miniature trees, stretched out in rows like soldiers. They were lush and heavy with grapes, the scent of sugar subtle in the air. Come Belin’s Day, everyone who wished to would take the next three days off work to harvest the grapes, ending each day with a grand festival and family feast.
A dark shape formed on the horizon, growing clearer with each passing minute. The ground sloped up into low, rolling hills, which rose higher still, forming the beginning of the highlands that made up the rest of Trendell’s territory. And high on the hills sat Eselin.
The city was filled with color.
It unfurled around us like the spreading petals of countless vibrant flowers, the architecture here similar to that of Terin, only on a much grander scale. The arches rose into beautifully painted domes, the paved streets lined with walkways and alive with voices and movement as people prepared for the coming Belin’s Day feast.
Auma led us down a broad street where taverns bordered shops selling glassware and flowing robes of iridescent silk. Teams of people strung garlands of flowers across buildings and hung extra lanterns in the streets, moving with a swift efficiency that made me wonder if they were one of the committees Caliza’s husband, Kuren, had told me so much about. Trendell was a place of formality and organization, and he’d always said the kingdom never ran smoother than when it was preparing for something.
Voices rose as people spotted Resyries. A child shouted, pointing, and Res puffed out his feathers.
That was the crow I knew and loved. I grinned as he strutted alongside me. Maybe I’d been worried for nothing.
People recognized Auma and her soldiers, parting to grant us passage. We walked unimpeded up the sloping road toward the highest point in the city, where a terraced arrangement of rose-gold buildings waited. A set of low steps led up the middle, buildings bordering each side, interspersed with flat areas brimming with gardens of midnight-green foliage and dots of wildflower color.
At the top sat a wide, two-story building with an open face of columns and arches framed by curtains of brilliant royal purple fluttering in the gathering evening breeze. My stomach twirled along with the curtains as the reality of what waited for me sank in. Somewhere up there sat the Trendellan king and queen, and in their hands, they held the fate of Rhodaire.
Somewhere up there, Estrel waited.
We dismounted at the base of the terraced hill, servants emerging from buildings at the base level to tend to our horses. Kiva untied Ericen’s wrists from the horse but kept them bound, Sinvarra drawn and ready at her side. One of the Jin soldiers kept her bow in hand, an arrow in easy reach.
Res fluttered to my side. “No flopping over,” I warned him. “We’re supposed to impress them, not ply them for dinner.”
