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The fact that he laughs as he says it gives me hope that he’s only joking, but nothing has been a joke in this new world so far, and hope has gotten me nowhere.
“Let’s make a deal.” Gesturing at the too-long dressing gown along my body, I get to my feet and stroll behind the chair with the wet dress draped over it.
Royad raises a brow at me.
“You get me some clothes, and I promise to change, no matter what you bring me. And you’ll answer a few questions in return.”
His lips purse as he considers then shrugs. “I promise I’ll try to answer all of your questions if you get dressed first,” he makes a counteroffer. “And never suggest that same deal to Myron. He’ll come up with all sorts of ideas of what lacy little nothings to put you in.”
Even when I throw him a look of outrage, a part of me is surprisingly curious about what it would be like to have Myron’s full predatory attention on me as he sees me in said little nothings. And that thought horrifies me to no end.
“Deal.”
Royad’s lips curl, and he marches from the room, throwing over his shoulder that he’ll be back in a moment. That leaves me with memories of the stories people told me when I was a child. About fairies and bargains, about a time when humans had magic and that magic saved us from the immortal creatures of Askarea.
I replay the bargain I agreed to in my mind and am satisfied that at least I haven’t sold my soul. Whatever Royad brings me to wear, I’ll get some answers.
When he doesn’t return for a few minutes, I walk around the table and pick up the book Myron left there the night before. The heavy leather binding is worn from countless reads, as are the pages, some of them so faded they have become unreadable, I flip through the chapters until something catches my eye.
It’s a drawing of a tall stone palace with spires and battlements like an old fortress. The angle is different from when I glance out the window at the bone-white walls, but it is definitely the palace I’m standing in. Curious to find out more about the Crow palace, I start reading; only, there is not one single reference to the Crows. Not one word mentioning winged fairies or annual bridal sacrifices.
Instead, one word keeps coming up over and over again.Flame.Eternal Flame. I don’t know how Askarea dates its history, but this book is old. I browse ahead to find a hint of the Crows, but the book doesn’t even mention a war. All it does reference is high fae, forest fairies, andFlames.
I’m about to start reading in earnest when the door opens, and in strolls Royad, a stack of black fabrics in his hands that makes me think I will never wear a different color again.
“I see you have found a different source of information.” He eyes the book while setting down the clothes beside me on the couch. “Anything interesting in there?”
I debate telling him that his king is reading particularly steamy romance novels in his spare time but think better as his feathers brush my arm when he pats the heap of fabric. A shudder works its way through my body, and I’m reminded of all the reasons I should be shying away from these creatures—including the murderous lake Myron is hiding in his closet.
“Did the Crows build this palace?” It’s the most diplomatic way I can ask if they conquered their territory from another people without actually saying it.
Royad shakes his head at me. “We agreed you dress first.”
Something in his gaze tells me the head shake wasn’t entirely to admonish me for expecting answers before I hold up my end of the bargain.
“Can you at least point me toward a bathing room that won’t kill me?” I lay on the sarcasm heavily, but it’s fear driving me to that bravado. I don’t want to find myself again trapped in the element I used to love most in the world.
At that, Royad’s gaze flicks to the wet dress on the chair, and he steps around the table to examine it from up close. “Is that what happened?” He is working hard to hide his alarm, but as he bends over the damp feathers, his features tighten, and I could swear that’s fear in his all-black eyes.
“Part of it.” Laying the book back on the table, I gather the fresh clothes in one arm and start looking around the room. “Now, where can I change?”
Royad’s gaze darts to the plain wooden door before it bounces to the other side of the room, and he flicks a hand. A door I hadn’t noticed in the elaborate brocade wallpaper swings open, revealing the view on a bathing room double the size of the one in my room, complete with a toilet, a large bathtub with a golden rim, and a stack of fluffy towels sitting beside it on a carved wooden stool.
“Take your time.” He motions for me to walk in.
As I do, I throw over my shoulder. “Had I known he had a toilet in here, I wouldn’t have needed to pee in the lake. Maybe that’s why it tried to drown me.”
Not that I did. But my point gets across, and I nearly laugh at his horrified expression. He knows about the room without a doubt, and he knows what it’s capable of. Perhaps Myron isn’t ready to give the answers I’m seeking, but Royad and I have a bargain. And I’m ready to take advantage of it in any way I can.
I didn’t specify how many questions or when I’d ask them. It was he who pushed the asking after I got dressed. That could be in a few minutes or in a few weeks. As long as I can think of something to ask, there is no limit.
This is my first win since I was dragged to this palace, and I allow a half-smile onto my lips as I close the door behind me.
Sixteen
My room isas gray and unwelcoming as ever when we step inside after a brisk walk through the hallways. I learned that Myron’s room is situated on the same level but on the other side of the balcony-like corridor running around the square cut opening up into the entrance hallway below. Every few paces, guards are stationed by the columns as if the palace has been breached before and those dark alcoves are where thieves and assassins were hiding.
Goosebumps rise on my arms at the mere thought of any creature powerful enough to scare a Crow Fairy. The clothes I’m wearing are comfortable enough to allow me to feel like myself for once instead of a captive bride, thin linen pants and a fitted tunic that might be too tight to fight in, but then, whom would I fight—and with what weapon?
