Page 26

“Clever, little bird.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Would you prefer ‘darling wife’?”

“I would have preferred going into that situation prepared,” I say. “Have you forgotten your kingdom’s customs so easily?”

His expression darkens. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here.”

Guilt snatches the air from my lungs, but Lyxander is already turning away.

We reach the top of the stairs, and he unlocks the door the innkeeper directed us to. I slip past him as he pauses to light the lantern on the wall, illuminating the room with its soft glow.

A small fireplace sits against the left wall, its hearth swept clean, with a modest stack of firewood arranged neatly beside it. Two chairs flank a table scarred by the passage of time beneath a window that appears to be stuck slightly ajar. But it’s the bed that holds my attention.

There’s only one.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter. Of course, the innkeeper wouldn’t give newlyweds a room with two beds.

“Not up to your standards? I can’t imagine the Aviary granted many privileges.” Lyxander steps up beside me, his gaze landing on the source of my concern, and the teasing light in it dims. He clears his throat roughly. “I’ll take the floor.”

“We can take turns. We’ll need to sleep in shifts anyway.”

I sling my pack onto the floor, and a searing spike of pain rattles my ribs. With a wince, I stumble forward, hand flying to my side.

Lyxander stills. Slowly, he turns to face me. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” I say. “Just a scratch.”

He takes a step closer. “Show me.”

“No.”

“Aella.” His tone leaves no room for argument, and for the briefest instant, I’m tempted to hold my dagger to his throat and wipe that command out of his voice.

I don’t know why it feels like a threat—it shouldn’t. But I’ve experienced this before. I’ve been hurt, exposed, and the last man I allowed myself to be vulnerable with is the very one who gave me this wound.

It throbs again, and my defiance falters.

I relent and peel off my cloak and winter layers, then lift the hem of my tunic. I tug the makeshift dressing free, revealing the crimson slash beneath.

Lyxander crouches beside me. “When did this happen?”

“Intana,” I mutter.

He hums, then straightens and steps away. “Raven. Your lover. He did this to you?”

My heart clenches, a deep, aching twist that feels like it might tear me apart from the inside. Lover. The word feels wrong now, as if I can look back on our history and see it more clearly in the light of his betrayal. It was always the Aviary for him. Always the mission, the cause, the secrets he held so tightly to his chest.

I believe what he said—that it was real. I don’t think even he could fake emotion so effectively, but in the end, he’d chosen. And he had not chosen me.

“Yes.” I clear my throat, letting my tunic fall back into place. “But I already told you, he’s not my anything.”

“A good thing, then. Because that man is a fool.”

A laugh bursts from my lips before the pain at my side halts me. “On that, we can agree.”

He opens his mouth, but a knock on the door cuts him off.