His mouth moved a notch higher. “And my crime?”
I regarded him. “Stealing? I don’t know. Don’t ravens like shiny objects?”
Corvin laughed out loud, throwing his head back.
I stood up from the table. “Thanks again for making me breakfast.”
He reached out to gently touch my arm. “You’re very welcome.” A pleasant tingle erupted on my skin from thecontact. Corvin looked down, as if taken by surprise to find himself touching me. He withdrew his hand. “Let me come,” he said. “To the dinner party. Please.”Please.The heat I felt earlier came roaring back.
“Alright, you can accompany me,” I conceded.
What was a dinner party without a date?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The weeks leading up to the dinner party passed quickly. Nix and I settled into a comfortable routine. I had to admit the island didn’t feel so lonely with him around, even if he did stubbornly refuse to tell me more about his life. No matter how gently I pleaded or how cleverly I tried to trick it out of him, my new companion clearly did not wish to talk about the past. Eventually, I stopped trying to press him for more information. I had enough to process as things were.
I had a timeline now.
Three hundred years ago something changed.But what?
And did it have something to do with the woman haunting my dreams? Moira?
There was one image I couldn’t shake. My thoughts kept drifting back to the throne of living wood. An oak tree laden with green leaves. Springtime leaves. And the cruel man who sat upon it, demanding his right to marry a stolen bride.
However, the Spring Court was ruled by Archlord Ailmon, not the man in my nightmare. A rather useless piece of information on its own. Since it wasn’t like I could simply waltz into his court demanding answers. That seemed wholly out of the question for now until I figured a few more things out. Until I was powerful enough not to fear his wrath. Less than two moons from now, after the inauguration, my reputation might have changed enough to demand an audience, but until then…
That wasn’t the only thing on my mind.
I was also thinking about Terani’s visit. How the people of the realm were meant to offer me a moonstone if they wished to strike a midnight bargain. Terani suggested the moonstone protected her on her travels. I suspected my necklace had done the same for me when I was in Sivell. She also told me they were difficult to find.
What did that mean for the future? No one would come again if moonstones remained scarce in the realm.
The last week had brought another new development, this one exciting. There were buds on the Green Man’s vines. I just hoped they didn’t bloom while I was away. The buds, still twisted into a tight knot, were mostly light green, but I could see glimpses of a pure white flower peeking out, waiting to emerge. A hint at what was to come. Still a mystery—but not for much longer.
Somebody knocked at the front door bright and early in the morning.
I knew right away it would be Corvin since we spoke the night before using the study mirror. He was still planning to accompany me to Rogam Vunzaver’s mansion. I gave Nix a stern look as I headed toward the door. “Be nice, please!”
Nix flicked his tail back and forth noncommittally. “I don’t think you should be alone with Bird Boy; I don’t trust him. His intentions may not be honorable.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked with a frown.
“His smell. I don’t like it.”
“Really?” I responded. “I think he smells quite lovely, like fresh rain and sweet honey… Err…” My cheeks pinkened and I reached for the door handle, choosing to ignore Nix’s confusing assessment of Corvin’s character in favor of welcoming him inside.
Corvin greeted me with a wide smile as Nix waltzed into the foyer, taking a seat by my side.
“Hey there, Nix,” Corvin said, observing his approach. “You’ve put on some weight!”
“Bird Boy,” Nix acknowledged in return, earning a scowl from me.
Corvin was wearing his cloak again—the one adorned with countless colorful feathers. No longer quite as distracted by its appearance, I could tell it reeked of magic, and I thought I detected the presence of several different enchantments woven into its threads. The magic was restless, like wisps of cloud floating through the sky, constantly shifting, shimmering delicately, its tendrils weaving in and out of the cloak’s fabric, constrained to its canvas.
“One type of feather wasn’t enough?” I asked him, a teasing lilt to my voice. “You had to have them all?”
Corvin peered down, pursing his lips. “You can see all the different feathers?”
