Page 3 of How to Marry a Winged King

“Any more helpful comments before I leave the tree to eat you?”

The tūī said nothing. The branch grew thin as I neared his thorny cage, trembling under my weight, and the stinging in my chest had become a burning, a line of fire spreading out from my heart. Tears filled my eyes as the first rays of dawn lapped over the garden wall.

Even when I reached out to touch the thorny cage, the tree reacted sluggishly, so that I had to wrap my hand around each thorn and force the tree to retract them one by one. By the time I’d forced a big enough gap, I was panting, my limbs shaking with pain, unable to stop tears leaking from my eyes.

At last, it was done. The tūī darted free.

As soon as the tūī took flight, the bloodthorn relaxed, all its thorns smoothing out. I dropped to the soft earth, my knees threatening to give out, and stumbled across the bounds in blind agony to collapse in the meadow. The pain slowly ebbed, and I gasped myself back to awareness. My heart thudded loudly in my ears, still too fast.

A beak filled my field of vision. What ails you, my lady?

I yelped and sat up.

The tūī flew out of the way to perch on a nearby tree stump. You’re human, aren’t you?

“Well spotted. Also, you’re welcome for the rescue.” My arms and bare feet were dirty and scratched. I got up stiffly and stomped back over the boundary to my boots. I couldn’t help tensing as I did so, even knowing that the curse wouldn’t reactivate until tomorrow’s dawn.

That was a curse that struck just now, wasn’t it?

“Yes,” I said tiredly, lacing up my boots.

How does it work? He had the kind of voice that sounded like it was used to being obeyed without question, which was somewhat amusing coming from a bird not even a foot high.

“That’s a very personal question, and we haven’t even been introduced,” I pointed out. “Besides, I have to go.”

The tūī puffed himself up. You may call me Golden. An odd name for a dark-coloured bird, but it’s a rare fae creature who gives their true name to a stranger. I owe you a debt for saving me. Perhaps I can free you from this curse, if you tell me what it is, Daughter of Bloodthorn Manor. Is that something you want?

Freedom. My heart gave a single hard beat.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I want that.” The dangerous, vulnerable admission fell from my lips before I could stop it. I hurried on, my thoughts muddled by hope and caution. “The curse is a blood-binding, linking me to the manor house. Lord Bloodthorn laid it on me as a child. I have to be inside the boundary at dawn.”

And if you’re not?

I hesitated. This was dangerous information, but he’d already seen me lying weeping in the dirt. It wouldn’t be exactly difficult to guess. “Pain, increasing until I pass the boundaries. I tried resisting, once.” I swallowed, even the memory making my mouth dry. Did you know you can lose consciousness from pain? If my stepmother hadn’t come looking for me and carried me back across the bounds, I don’t know what would have happened. It had taken me a week of bedrest to recover.

Golden sat motionless, every feather pulled tight against his sleek body. I owe you more than I realised, for saving me at the cost of your own pain. I will try to free you.

There was a beat of magic, and something twanged in my chest. Hope surged, only to die a mere breath later as the sensation faded.

He shook his head. This curse cannot be broken by force alone.

I gave myself a shake. What had I been thinking, letting myself hope? The curse had been laid by the lord of a great house who also counted as my father in the strange ways that mattered to fae magic. Golden was only a wyrling, a fae creature with a bit of extra magic to distinguish it from the ordinary sort. “Never mind, then. It’s fine.”

In what manner is this terrible curse you suffer ‘fine’?

I didn’t know what to say. No one had ever challenged my declarations of fine-ness before. “I mean, thank you for trying, but you don’t owe me anything more than that. Consider whatever debt you owe me paid.”

No.

I frowned down at the bird, who didn’t even blink. Stubborn thing. I didn’t like the idea of holding a debt over such a small creature. “Grant me a feather or a song, then, if you still feel you owe me something. But I have to go.”

I hurried back to the manor before he could respond.

A FEATHER AND A SONG

MY STEPMOTHER WAS already up and preparing for the long day ahead when I returned. At my dishevelled appearance, her thin eyebrows nearly merged with her hairline.

“Whatever happened?” she asked.