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And just in time for my body to sway as the momentary shock retreats and pain rushes my arm and my throat so badly I can hardly stay on my feet.
Royad looks me over head to toe before he grabs me by the shoulders and leans me against the wall right next to the door. “Don’t move,” he orders and disappears inside the underground spa for a heartbeat. Two.
It’s not nearly enough time for me to wonder where he’s going but more than enough to relapse into panic. I grit my teeth at the pain as I tighten my grasp on the torch. I’ll be a bloody mess tomorrow. Serves the king well if he forces me to marry him; I won’t play the pretty, happy bride—if I survive the day. Guardians, if I survive thehour.Which I realize I might not, considering the puddle of blood forming at my feet.
The Crow got me bad, and if there isn’t a way to fix me up with magic, this wound might just do the trick and save me from ever being bound to King Myron and his court of monsters.
Royad is back before I can lose consciousness, but I barely make out his face as he returns with a bundle of fabric in his claws. He takes the torch from my hand with what feels like too much ease to make me believe I could have kept it one more moment. He drapes the fabric over my shoulders, slipping my arms into sleeves and loosely binding a belt around my waist before tugging the falling towel from under it and pressing that to my forearm.
“Let’s get you fixed up,” he says, voice a hiss as his features turn birdlike at the edge of my vision.
Guided by his claws, I take a step forward, but my legs give out, and he catches me around the waist.
A growl tears through the hallway, forcing my fading consciousness to hold on one moment longer. When I turn my head, King Myron is striding toward us, menace in his eyes, and Royad’s claws slip from my waist as I slip into darkness.
* * *
I don’t know if the pain is because I hit the floor as I blacked out or because I nearly drowned in the pool I believed to be lovely, but when I wake at dawn, I can barely take a breath, and even the soft mattress hurts around my ribs. My left arm is bandaged, and so is the side of my throat. Even thinking about moving hurts, so I lie still as I listen to the whispered voices that woke me.
“What were you thinking?” one of the voices asks—King Myron. And Guardians, does he sound furious. “You were supposed to make sure she makes it back to her room and stay there until…” His voice trails away as if he doesn’t want to speak the words he was about to say.
“I wanted to do something for once that won’t make her think we aremonsters.” Royad emphasizes the last word as if to prove a point.
Myron growls, and I shudder, opening my eyes, but I find neither him nor Royad in my room. The bathing room door is cracked open, though, and I can see shadows moving in the narrow gap filled with fairy light and sunrise.
“That’s what we are, Royad.” Myron’s cold tone makes my breath catch. “Wearemonsters. And we will always stay monsters. Ayna will hate us whether she takes a bath or washes her hair. And she will die like the others. There is nothing you can do about it.”
It’s a command more than an explanation, and I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end. For, whatever this is about, was I merely doubting the Crow King wants me dead, now I am certain he will personally see to it. He might even have been the one who sent the Crow to kill me.
The rustle of wings sounds in the bathing room, and the door opens, exposing the room is empty. Royad enters the bedroom alone, and I wonder if I merely imagined the conversation. There were days in prison when I was so desperate for Ludelle’s company that I dreamed him up. This might be no different. Perhaps, my mind is trying to protect itself by making me hallucinate that someone in this palace might actually care whether I live or die.
My gaze locks with Royad’s, and he shakes his head as if answering my thought.
“I will die.” It’s no longer a question.
Royad doesn’t shake his head.
“The attack at the pool…” My voice turns into a croak.
“That was only the beginning.” His brows furrow while he studies me as if debating saying more.
“How did the others die?” I must know. I need to know so I can prepare myself; because there is no question I won’t leave this palace before the wedding. The morning of Ret Relah has broken, and I am bandaged and recovering from an attack. If I can drag myself to the ceremony on my own feet, that will be a surprise, let alone climb down a wall or run through a forest if I were to ever make it out of here.
Royad considers me for so long I think he’s not going to answer. He sucks in a breath, eyes shuttering as if he’s looking into a memory. “That’s not for me to tell.”
I don’t know if I should be grateful he is speaking at all or frustrated he isn’t being helpful with the information he gives. “Who will tell me?”
He crosses the room, bending down to check the bandage on my arm. “The king. You are his concern, as is your life or death.”
Something about the way he says it makes me think there is more, but he probes the white gauze where the cut must start right under my elbow and nods at himself before straightening and walking toward the door.
“I’d send someone to help you get dressed for the wedding, Ayna, but there are only Crows in this palace, and none of them are female. I don’t trust them to put a dress on you even when the king trusts them to protect his palace.”
There was so much in those few words my head started to spin all over again. “What do you mean, no females?” Were they all dead? All victims of Myron’s cruelty?
“There are no female Crows.” He pauses, scanning my face, words obviously held back as he purses his lips, directing his eyes at the armoire instead. “Your wedding gown is in there. Be ready at sunset.” He leaves it at that, disappearing through the door the air around which ripples as it falls into the lock. Warded or spelled, or simply a magical wall meant to lock the bride in, I don’t care as long as the Crow who tried to kill me can’t get in here.
I spend the day in thoughts of Ludelle, of what he told me when we were captured.
