Page 2 of The Searching Songbird

Lily grinned, slipping into her clothes with lightning speed. “Have I ever told you you're my favorite sister?”

“Only when you want something.” Violet pulled the door open. “Shall we?”

Giggling, Lily pulled on her slippers and danced through the open doorway. Stopping on the other side, she extended her arm in Violet's direction. “Together.”

Violet's face softened, and she accepted Lily's arm with a smile of her own.

“Together.”

The two sisters headed down the corridor, chatting about the upcoming wedding. Violet was looking forward to the ceremony, but Lily was more excited about the wedding breakfast that was to follow, which was sure to have lots of music and dancing as well as food. Maybe she'd be able to convince Josselyn – that is, Her Majesty – to join her and her sisters in one of the traditional Kalo wedding dances. She hadn't seen Josselyn since leaving the castle the year prior, and she missed her terribly. Her beloved Shendri sister.

Maybe I should tell Josselyn about the dream. That dragon – there was something about it, almost as if I'd seen it before. Which is crazy. I've never seen a dragon before in my life.

Yes, she would mention it to Josselyn when she had a chance. But first, she would watch her eldest sister marry the man she loved.

Chapter Two

Draven Grant watched as the target skipped down the front steps of Jonathan Banri's large, red brick home, laughing at something one of her sisters was saying. It was the kind of laugh that made you want to smile just hearing it, even if you weren't in on the joke. It pulled at him, enticing him to get a closer look, so he might get a glimpse of the sparkle that was surely lighting up her blue eyes even now.

Steady, now. You're supposed to be observing her unnoticed, not tripping across the street like some addled milksop in hope of gaining the fair maiden's favor. You have a job to do.

A job which would likely make her despise him. No point in getting attached now.

The target climbed into a waiting carriage, disappearing from view. Draven leaned out the window of his hired carriage and called up to the driver.

“Follow that carriage. Discreetly.”

“You got it, boss,” the driver replied, giving the horses a slap of the reins. They followed the target's carriage through town, all the way to the town square, where it stopped in front of a large, stone church. People milled around outside the front steps, chatting and laughing. The target's father, Hiram Delaney, was among them, and he stepped up to the carriage, smiling as he helped each of the women down. The first out was one of the sisters, Rosemary, if his sources were correct. Her father's smile turned into a scowl as he took in her scandalously low-cut blouse, accented by multiple strings of colorful glass beads. The woman leaned in, kissing his whiskered cheek, and the older man's expression softened as he waved her toward the church.

Just behind her, was the one called Violet. Her ensemble was much more modest, and her father smiled with satisfaction as he watched her pass. That is, until he spotted the book sticking out from the waistband of her turquoise skirt. Plucking it out, he raised his eyebrows and said something that made the young woman shrug. She followed after her sister, leaving her father shaking his head as he turned back to the carriage once more to offer his hand to the remaining sister. The target.

She placed a delicate, white hand on her father's arm as she stepped down, each movement so light and graceful that she could have been dancing. Her father gave her an indulgent smile, saying something that elicited an answering smile from the target. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and the two made their way up the stairs toward the church.

Draven studied them, wondering idly what it would be like to be in her father's position, walking arm and arm with an angel.

No, not an angel. The target. Someone of great interest to the boss. Someone whom he would need to deliver to said employer in Antos, willing or otherwise.

A pang of guilt shot through him. He'd done a lot of jobs for the boss over the past two years and done them well. After all, he owed the man his life, not to mention the lives of his mother and sister. This, however, felt different from those other jobs. More... insidious. Spiriting a young woman away from her family for reasons unknown? Was that really the kind of man he'd become?

Now's not the time for assessing your conscience. Think of Mirabelle. She's counting on you. The boss is counting on you. Lily – no, not Lily, the target – will be fine. If you don't bring her to the boss, someone else will.

And while he would look after the young woman's well being, a random mercenary might not be so gentle. No, it was better for everyone if he followed through with the job. Watch her from the shadows, and when the moment was right, take her.

There was a flurry of action on the street ahead of him, as a large carriage bearing the royal crest pulled up in front of the church. Two guards stepped forward, one on either side of the door as a footman hurried to open it. The people milling around pressed forward, eagerly craning their necks as a tall, olive-skinned man with a dangerous looking scar marking his face stepped out.

That must be the infamous, new king, Alex Grey. There were rumors he was Kalo, but I hardly thought it likely. Looks like the rumors were true, after all.

The king turned back to the carriage, reaching up to take the hand of the young woman following close behind. Her lips twisted into a smirk as she raised her eyebrows at the proffered hand. Laughing, she ignored the hand and hopped down unassisted, before taking the king's hand in her own and saying something that made him chuckle and pull her in closer.

Draven watched the pair with disbelief. They were just so... in love. A stark contrast to the current sovereigns in Antos, who seemed to only tolerate each other. Not that he knew them well himself, but he'd had some dealings with the Antoski king due to his work with the boss.

The Eldourian royals strolled up the steps and into the church, and the onlookers turned their attention to the handful of men on horseback who'd escorted the royal carriage. Based on their attire, Draven would guess they were knights. They certainly acted like knights, strutting through the square as if they owned the place, soaking up the adoration of the crowd.

Knights. Was there anyone he hated more than knights?

Not bloody likely.

Draven pounded his fist on the roof of the hired carriage, signaling for the driver to move on. With the royals in attendance, the place would be crawling with guards. He'd have to wait. Patience and planning always won out over haste, and when the right moment presented itself, he'd be ready.