“Do you need anything, Sumaca?” Asha asks.
“Yes. I need you to stop calling me Your Highness and go rest.”
She rolls her eyes. “Should I send for some food?”
I shake my head just as a gruff voice behind me says, “Yes. I’d love some food, and Cruaih would appreciate a bowl of milk.”
“Milk isn’t very good for…” When Asha’s recommendation fades, I fathom that Cathal is firing a look her way about his desire for her nutritional input. She presses her lips together before muttering, “We will bring sustenance for all, immediately.”
After dispatching some guards to the kitchen, she hunts my expression in the hopes of gleaning my mood.
I give my steadfast guard and friend a warm smile before murmuring, “All’s well.”
But is it?He’s staying for a meal, I remind myself. He may depart soon after, but at least, he isn’t departing immediately. I lower my hand from the door, leaving it ajar so he doesn’t feel trapped, and turn back toward the Crow.
As our gazes twine, my stomach swishes, and not from hunger. I don’t ask if he forgives me for kissing another, the same way I don’t ask for how long he’ll be staying.
Instead, I wander back his way, giving his companion my full attention. “Hello, Cruaih. I’m Zendaya. I’m sorry for frightening you earlier with my shouting. I’m not usually prone to raising my voice.”
I reach one finger toward her muzzle. “May I?”
“You can try, but she can be quite?—”
I stroke up the bridge of her tiny nose, my finger sliding through her feather-soft black fur.
“—aloof,” he finishes.
I smile. “I’d expect nothing less with a master like yourself.”
She tilts her head to sniff my finger, then wraps her coarse tongue around my nail. My heart holds still because, although it’s scabbed, there was a smear of dried blood that’s now gone.
“What?” Cathal asks.
“She licked some of my blood.” I look up at him, then back at her. “It won’t poison her, will it?”
“Fallon’s blood doesn’t harm her, so I don’t see why yours would.”
“Because I’m part-Serpent.”
“And our daughter is part-Crow.”
Still, my pulse whooshes as hard as my stomach.
He crouches and sets Cruaih down, then strides over to the red velvet circle. “Shall we get started?” When I don’t move or say a word, he glances over his shoulder at me. “Daya, she will be fine.”
I nod.
He sits, muttering that my first order of business should be updating the throne room with armchairs instead of floor cushions with stunted backrests.
Cruaih twines her little body around my ankles, startling me out of my daze. My surprise surprises her in turn and she skips toward Cathal and skitters onto his lap.
When I’ve still made no move to follow, Cathal cants his head. “Shall we get started, Sumaca?”
“You’re staying?”
“Unless you prefer I leave, then yes.”
“All right.” I make my way toward him, choosing to kneel on the floor cushion instead of sitting cross-legged like he is. Cruaih scales his muscled thigh, teeters there a moment, before hopping off and moseying on over to me.
