“Then you have nothing to worry about. The second you tell me you wish to be the woman in my bed, there will be none but you. I am a loyal man, but I am a man.”
“I don’t understand you.” I shake my head. “You act like you actually care about me but we both know you don’t.”
“You don’t get to tell me how I feel, Taylan.”
A lump rises in my throat. “Did you just…?” It’s not the first time he’s used my real name.
“I know you. Better than you think I do. We’re not all that different. I think you’ll see that soon enough.” He kisses the top of my head, then rises. “Rest. We’re preparing the camp and we’ll leave at first light.”
What the fuck just happened? I must have hit my head. Maybe none of this was real. Maybe I really was dead.
If I am, the afterlife is terrible.
I whisper into the darkness of my tent. “Are you there, Mara? Can you hear me? Are you going to give me anything besides cryptic messages? You could help me, you know? And if I’m dead, can you please get rid of Caiden? Or is he dead with me?”
There’s no answer, of course. Just silence.
I lay like that for a long time. Then I realize I’m naked. With a sigh, I toss aside the blankets and walk to the tent flap, then peer outside. There’s two guards I don’t recognize.
“Hello?”
They flinch, then look at me. “Empress?”
“I need some clothes, please.”
They both open and close their mouths a few times before the one on the right manages to speak. “I’ll send for your trunk.”
“No. I want trousers and a tunic. Nothing that was inside my trunk.”
They don’t mask their confusion.
I stare at them, deciding it’s best to just maintain eye contact and expect them to follow my orders.
The one on the right nods. “Yes, of course.”
“And find Nate. I want him at my door.” I close the tent before they can argue, then stumble back to the pile of blankets on the ground, weaving a little as I walk.
I sit, taking slow breaths while I wait for my head to stop spinning. I’m not sure how long it takes, but the sound of birds cawing makes me open my eyes.
Brow furrowed, I make my way to the front of the tent again and peer outside.
Both guards are standing in front of my tent, about five feet away, staring in my direction in horror. But they’re not looking at me. Their eyes are locked on the ravens gathered in front of me. The birds caw and jump around, leaving little footprints in the snow.
A few of them notice me, turning their beady black eyes on me. They watch me with their heads tilted, as if studying me. Then the rest of them turn in my direction. They fall silent.
Shivers run down my spine, but not from fear. These ravens aren’t dangerous. At least not to me.
Then one of them hops toward me, something hanging from its beak. I lean down, careful to keep the fabric covering me. “What do you have there?”
In its beak is a finger and a lace ribbon. It drops them at my feet. The finger is crimson, as if it’s reacted to poison.
I blink a few times, making sure I’m seeing things properly. Then I look back at the bird. It’s staring at me, as if waiting for a response. “Is that for me?”
The bird nods.
I swallow hard.
The bird just nodded at me.
