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“Don’t…” His voice trails away as if he isn’t quite sure he wants to speak, but he tugs my hand an inch closer toward him. “Don’t turn away.”
My eyes lock on his waiting ones, and for the first time, I find something more than the Crow King there. Something vulnerable, fathomless that I can’t even begin to understand.
“Don’t be afraid of me, Ayna. I am more than the monster you see.” That speck of blood reappears on his lips, and this time, I don’t hold back.
“Why are you bleeding?”
Myron’s tongue flicks over his lower lip, wiping away the droplet of blood like before, but his gaze leaves mine. “Because if I say what I want to say, I won’t be around much longer to save … the Crow throne.” He slides his hand over mine, fingers wrapping around my palm rather than my wrist. “Because if my bride dies this year, I won’t have it in me to try another time.”
Try what?I want to ask, but I’m spellbound by the way his features are fighting the feathers climbing up his neck. He’s shifting. Guardian’s, he’s shifting, and I’ve never been more terrified and more intrigued.
As I stare into his eyes, his feathers swim and blur until all I can see are the black voids between his lids. They threaten to swallow me whole if I don’t pull away, if I don’t save myself.
“I know you don’t want to be bound to a monster any more than I want to be bound to a human criminal, and I would let you go if I believed there was a chance for you to survive once you leave this palace.” He pauses, pursing his lips and the feathers recede from his head, revealing his black hair once more. It’s such a relief to see his face entirely human again that I almost sigh. But Myron is already continuing. “Give me one year, Ayna. If you survive that long, I’ll set you free.”
It’s the first time his words have a clear meaning. “Survive a year.” He owes me so many answers I can’t even count them, but what I really need to know is if he means what he says. “And then I’ll be free to go wherever I want?”
Dipping his chin, he releases my hand and leans back in his chair.
“And I won’t be chased by a flock of murderous shifter fairies?”
He swallows but inclines his head. “I will make sure of it.”
The tightness in my stomach unfolds with every deep breath I’m taking. This might be the best chance I’ll ever get, so I straighten my spine and will strength into my trembling voice. “It seems it’s in both our interests that I stay alive. Let me propose a deal.” I can’t believe I’m doing this, but what choice do I have? No one else in this palace is going to offer me freedom. “You do everything in your power to help me survive your riotous people, and I’ll play my part in our marriage. I’ll play the happy bride and walk around the palace on your arm. And on Ret Relah next year, you let me go first thing in the morning.”
As he lifts said arm to shake my offered hand, his feathers shimmer in subdued hues of dark purple and blue. “Deal.” He gives me a smirk that makes me go over every word I’ve said to make sure I haven’t dug my own grave before I shake with him.
I don’t know what changed, but as he eyes me over our joined hands, that darkness in his gaze lifts the slightest bit, and I could swear specks of gray frizzle the black of his eye around the edges.
“You’re smart, Wolayna. Smarter than I gave you credit for.”
If it was meant as an offense, I don’t take it as one. The Guardians know, if I want to stay alive, I’ll need to work closely with him, and that means understanding the situation so I know what to do and what to avoid.
“So, what do you need me to do to defend your throne?” I’m not referencing theso much morepart of his earlier statement because, the truth is, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what he has to win or to lose, or if he deserves to be on the throne. If keeping him there will guarantee my freedom, I’m all for it.
“Politics.” Brows furrowing, he glances at the bookshelf behind the couch. “The Crows meet once a month to discuss strategy.”
“Strategy for what?” Answers are something I have come to not take for granted during my time in the Seeing Forest, so I don’t expect it when he goes into detail, the serious expression settling on his features making his human face even more handsome. I try not to let it distract me.
“When my father failed to break free from this … limited kingdom and the crown fell upon my head, my people split into two groups. One who believes that we should continue the path my father had been walking for thousands of years, for whom the annual bride is mere entertainment, and who believes in the power of war.”
“And the other?” I ask when he pauses so long I’m not certain he’ll continue at all.
The corner of Myron’s mouth twitches bitterly. “The other faction believes I should stay the course and hold up peace with King Recienne of Askarea.”
His gaze becomes distant as he drifts to a world I cannot see in his mind.
“Royad said all nobles used to get a bride before the war,” I remember, earning a frown from the king before me.
“Royad should hold his tongue before he accidentally kills you.”
A startled laugh escapes my lips. This is surely a joke and a bad one at that. “I thought you said he can be trusted.”
Myron nods. “He can, but even he can make mistakes.”
I don’t know what to do with this piece of information, so I fold my arms over my chest and start pacing the room. “So, he could accidentally kill me by saying the wrong things?” Not that it makes any sense, but I humor him to get to the core of this.
“Technically any of us could. But it might turn out deadly for themselves. Plus, most of my people would rather take the more direct approach and slice you open with their claws and beaks.”
