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“Your estimation is unhelpful,” he groused.
“There’s an entire library she might enjoy. She does translations, like her brother. I understand she’s keen to learn Vjestikaan.”
“You want me to...teachher a language? In an evening?” Grigor asked. “Is there not a more useful task I could set her on?”
“What, like scrubbing the kitchens? Butchering a hog? Stitching the old standards?”
He scoffed. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, Grigor, I don’twantyou to do anything except allow me a bit of silence for the rest of the walk,” Ludya said with a cool look and lifted her skirts, then pushed her pace ahead of his.
Addy turned back to look at Grigor. She signed something, but he no more knew her language than she knew his.
Grigor offered her a pained grin. She flashed a brighter one in return and looped her tiny arm through his. He stared down at the unasked-for union with a bland scowl.
“We’ll figure something out,” he muttered.
Tyreste used to dream of flying. It had started during his affair with Ana, when he had become fixated with trying to understand what it must feel like every time she broke and reformed her bones with magic. She once joked that if he were a touch lighter, he could hang from her talons and they could fly together, a bit prophetic in his present situation.
He’d expected to feel dread, terror, or even remorse as he climbed aboard the moving platform of ravens, but there wereso damnmanyof them that all he could see was a blanket of midnight. Above was sky but below... Therewasno below. Only the concerted effort of a hundred Ravenwoods carrying him skyward.
What would my mother think?raced across his restless mind. He tried to crawl closer to the edge of the pack, to make the poor decision of looking over the edge to see how high they’d climbed, but several affronted caws sent him scooting back to the center.
He squinted through snow and sleet for any sign of Ana, but he couldn’t find her.
Not in a hundred thousand years had Tyr ever imagined he’d be where he was in that moment, soaring above the clouds and preparing to be strength and shield for the woman he loved enough to risk everything for. Ana’s greatest battle was an internal one, and he couldn’t fight it for her, but he would stand at her side as she won it.
And when it was all over, when their child was safely born and their lives returned to some semblance of normalcy, he would travel back to Westerlands and tell the entire story to Asterin, Rhiain, and Sesto. He’d tell them he’d given the letters to the Wynters, with whom they belonged, so they could never fall into the wrong hands.
That they’d even fallen intohishands, as the same war waged beyond his walls, seemed an odd stroke of fate.
Everything, all of it, led back to one place for him.
Anastazja.
Love bade him climb aboard a flock of ravens and embark on the most ludicrous journey of his life.
Love would protect him.
Wisdom might claim love wasn’t enough.
But for Tyreste Penhallow, his eyes wide against the onslaught of wind and storm—and his face pointed bravely west, toward Icebolt—love was more than enough.
Love would set them all free.
Chapter29
You Devious Girl
Ana landed behind Elyria. The Courtyard of Regents was empty, as Ana imagined it was most of the time, a magnificent but lonely place where immortal goats milled about, munching on scattered patches of flora, and a frozen throne withered in solitude.
Though she’d seen and felt her talons, Ana didn’t know if they’d work until she came screeching toward the icy shelf at the north end of the castle. But her landing was as smooth and graceful as ever.
“Where did...” Ana looked around, staggering as she regained her bearings.
“Raelyria will bring him here, to us,” Elyria stated. “What do you need for this to... to work? What do you need from us?”
“I don’t know,” Ana confessed. The biting chill in the air took her breath away. “But I think I’ll need... solitude.”
