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At that, he winces, the sound pulling up instant remorse for my words. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
But Royad shakes his head like my words aren’t what hurt him. “Of course, I would.” He exchanges a look with Myron that is loaded with a century of painful history before blowing out a steadying breath. “It doesn’t matter how I feel for my king, though.”
I don’t know if I imagine the droplet of blood on his lower lip as he averts his face, studying the sunny sky through the half-drawn curtains.
“What are the guards saying?” Myron demands, changing the topic so smoothly I almost don’t notice the brief flare of upset crossing his features. “They surely can’t all have gone after the traitors.”
“Some of them were put in a daze and dragged into the dungeons. I would have been around to stop the assassins had those not been eliminated before, and I wouldn’t have had to track down the assailants with a fraction of my usual forces.” The way Royad speaks makes me wonder if he has more of an official role in this court than I was led to believe. Not justthe new bride’s bodyguard.
“This is bigger than the curse, isn’t it? It’s not just about whether the Crows want to remain as they are—in theirmonsterform”—I phrase it carefully as not to offend either of the two males in front of me—“but about how they don’t believe you’ll free them.” Not from the curse but from this forest.
“I’m still the most powerful fucking Crow in this realm,” Myron bites out, and the icy rage I find in his gaze as I glance his direction mutes me. “I don’t care what they believe. I made my choice, and that includes the last bargain I made with Cliophera.” He opens his mouth to continue but bites down on his lower lip to stop himself.
We’re back at that moment when I realized that particular piece of information has nothing to do with putting any of us in danger if he spills it. It’s about him not wanting to tell me.
So, I press on as I find my voice again. “What did the bargain say?” I hope I sound as determined as I feel because having slept with him or not, he owes me this honesty when it comes to a bargain he made because of me.
“Tell her, Myron.” Royad has regained his color, but his features are lined with exhaustion.
The sound of Myron gritting his teeth runs through me like a screech of metal on rock, and his features are blurring from beautiful fairy to monstrous Crow.
“Tell her, or I will.”
I’m not certain what put Royad on my side in this battle, but I’ll take it, leaning back in my chair with folded arms as I try not to balk from the monster I’m not certain he’s putting on display on purpose or has lost control over.
“It can’t be that horrible.” It’s a weak attempt at encouraging him, but at least, he shakes his head.
“You’re the only one who’ll see it as not horrible because it benefits you when it damns my people.”
There it is. The one line I might have never expected to hear from him. Him who’s only ever been scheming and bargaining to save the people trapped in these lands by a curse.
“Damned them how?” My voice is a mere whisper, and even Royad has gone so still I might have forgotten he’s there had his claws not dug into the edge of his seat.
Myron’s eyes meet mine, feathers receding from his features as he blows out a breath. “We’re trapped in these lands, not primarily because of the curse but because I bargained with King Recienne for a bride a year in exchange for remaining in the Seeing Forest, because I hate for my people to hunt females as they please at each Ret Relah. No one should suffer for the Crow’s wrongdoings, especially not innocents. But we need the brides for a chance to break the curse, so the original bargain with King Recienne states that I get one bride each year at Ret Relah.”
I open my mouth to tell him I already knew that, but he continues with an expression on his features that informs me if he doesn’t say this now, he’ll never say it. “One woman or female from Fort Perenis. A prisoner charged with unforgivable crimes. Someone who is lost to society in the fairylands or the human realms.”
My throat clogs with the simple fact that this is why I’m here, and my eyes cut to the thin tattoo on my wrist that is a permanent reminder of what I am. A prisoner. I’m a traitor to the Tavrasian crown by the simple logic that my father was, plus the numerous royal ships I plundered. Of course, those… We can’t forget those.
I shove the bitterness aside, focusing on what’s truly important about the original bargain: Myron made sure he protected innocents from being taken by Crows in the middle of the night.
His gaze speaks volumes as he pauses, assessing every detail of my features as if memorizing them in case I’ll turn away from him once he delivers the full story.
“What does the new bargain say?” I prompt before I lose all resolution. “The one that made her agree to help with my magic.”
Myron’s gaze darkens, but he nods. “I bargained for Cliophera’s help in exchange for refraining from taking any more brides. All other conditions of the original bargain with King Recienne remain in place.”
Horror plunges my stomach into my knees.
No more brides. No more chances.
If what he says is true, he’s bargained away their chance at both freedom and breaking the curse. And he’s done it for me. To help me become stronger, to learn to wield my magic so I can defend myself when the Flames attack again. How I’m supposed to feel about that, I don’t know. All I know is that my mouth has dried up, and my tongue is unwilling to form words, and inside my chest, my heart is being jostled around like a boat in a thunderstorm.
“Fuck—” Royad sums it up pretty well as if he is hearing this for the first time, too, and I almost agree with a laugh. But incredulity overrules the nervous humor threatening to break through.
“You gave up your chance at saving your people to buy me a chance at surviving the next fire fairy attack?” I half-scream, my heart beating so hard I’m sure both males can hear it.
Royad shakes his head beside me as if to say Myron lost his mind while the Crow King merely stares at me with those all-black eyes like I’m a lighthouse on a dark horizon.
