Chapter
Eleven
Galantia Present day, Deepmarsh Castle, great hall
itter and malty, the air inside the great hall hung thick around dozens of wooden tables—the benches occupied by more Ravens than I would bother to count. They must have feasted for aB while already, given the unrestrained guffaws that echoed from the vaulted ceiling. Roasted piglings eaten down to the hocks sat between spills of foamy ale and red wine, the room warmed by two large hearths at the center of each length side.
A third, smaller one nurtured a fire at the wall across from us. The high table stood before it, easily recognized by the black cloth that hung around it, embroidered with the sigil of House Khysal.
And there, in the massive wooden high chair behind it, sat the Raven prince.
Staring at me.
I dropped my gaze as not to provoke him, still ever so curious about what had happened in Valtaris. “How can there be a court if everyone died in the blast of shadows?”
“Most noble Raven houses were decimated right after Valtaris fell, it’s true,” Cici said as she leaned into me, her voice low. “Prince Malyr established new ones; he handed out titles, lands, and
occupied strongholds among his most devoted and powerful followers. They congregated around him the moment word of his survival spread. King Omaniel, Queen Elnora, his sister… They all died in Valtaris.”
“I didn’t know he had a sister.” Of course I hadn’t… “Oh, you sweet thing, my father once spoke of how your parents guarded you, but I had no idea they’ve locked you in the highest tower.” She pointed at the lonely table only three short rows away from Malyr. “Sit.”
For a moment, I considered facing away from Malyr—fewer chances at affronting him. But having your enemy at your back? That didn’t seem wise, so I lowered myself onto the bench to face him instead, but didn’t dare look his way.
“Which one is this Captain Asker? Is he present?”
“The one with the braid and salt and pepper beard in the black armor, over there. He used to serve as ravenguard to the royal family. Annoyingly righteous and proper. Swore that he won’t remove his armor until he redeemed himself by helping Prince Malyr take the throne of Dranada since
their own lands are lost to them.”
Redeem himself? “What had he done?”
“Failed to fight off your father’s soldiers somewhere at the border of Vhaerya, I believe, which ultimately led to Prince Malyr’s capture and imprisonment.”
“There are quite a few humans.” Turncoat lords, obviously, and way more than I’d expected. Too many for comfort. They feasted and laughed at tables they shared with Ravens, many of them accompanied by women too young and vibrant to be their lady wives. “Gods, did every lord drag his poor daughters to the Raven court?”
“The smart ones brought their sons, too. You just never know with these Ravens… the unbonded ones, anyway. Which are quite a few since many lost their potential mates during this tedious war.”
Subduing her smile, she leaned slightly forward, but didn’t speak again until I did the same. “As for the daughters… don’t trust a single of these titled whores. They’ll conspire against you, scratching your eyes out before they turn on each other again. It’s what they do with every new girl that
represents competition.”
“What are we competing for, exactly?”
Again that arched brow that made me feel stupid. “For Malyr, of course. After all, he is the
prince.”
Ha.
Ha ha.
A prince with no kingdom, no kin, no rightful claim to the throne of Dranada. Five hells, he didn’t even possess manners. The only thing he actually did have was the personality of crotch lice.
But all I said was, “What a catch, indeed.”
“He has not found his mate,” Cici continued, “so the pressure for him to take a human wife is growing. As things stand, he’ll need a strong, reliable human ally who won’t stab him in the back to win this war.”
Unease welled in my chest at Father’s prospects should Malyr gain such an alliance. “Well, I am no competition.”
“Oh, don’t be so harsh on yourself for your obvious lack of experience in matters of seduction,” she said, which wasn’t what I’d meant at all. Not that her assessment was wrong, either. “Although, perhaps, it is for the best, given the rumors.” She leaned in even closer, letting her voice drop into a whisper barely discernible over the noise. “His sexual urges are… peculiar. Or so some say. I never
managed to find myself in his chambers. Yet.”
My mind wandered back to how hard he’d been in his breeches when he’d violated me in my room. How he’d held that knife to my mouth with every intention to see me bleed.
I shook my head, dislodging that memory. “I believe the prince has no interest in taking a human wife.”
Cici scoffed, “As if he would be the first prince forced into marriage.”
“He sounded adamant. Said he would never breed with a human. A strange thing to say, considering that he himself is a half-blood.”
“Half-blood?”
“His mother,” I clarified. “She was human.”
“Galantia, my friend, you ought to seek out the library. Your education is severely lacking.” That pitiful look coming over her regal features did nothing to make me feel any less ignorant. “His mother was a half-blood. For many years, she neither shifted nor did a gift reveal itself, so most written accounts refer to her as human; it’s true—the ones written and rewritten by our scholars, anyway. But she had magic, Galantia. And after what happened with his mother, surely Prince Malyr can see how political marriages make or break houses.”
Now I felt downright stupid. “What do you mean?”
“How beautiful you look, Galantia.” Sebian stumbled up beside our table wearing a white shirt with no adornments, halfheartedly shoved into his brown breeches as if he’d only just fallen out of bed. “In that dress, I nearly didn’t recognize you. Halfway expected to see a long-lost lady from some
noble Raven house.”
“Must be the feathers.”
“Indeed! I’m tempted to start a courting dance right here.” Grinning, he wiggled his shoulders and bobbed his head much like doves did when they walked. “How am I doing?”
A smile tugged on the corners of my lips, again, easing away some of my tension. “You look ridiculous.”
“It looks better on my ravens, maybe.” His attention fell to Cici. “What is court’s newest gossip?
Your mouth is talented in many things, but none so much as running it.”
“That the Lady Galantia is in dire need of books to pass the time while she hides away in her chamber,” she said. “Truly, Sebian, she’s as innocent and naïve as a cow in the pasture.”
My hackles rose at her remark, but I could hardly blame her. She was right. I knew nothing about anything, feeling like a child who had toddled out of the nursery and accidentally stumbled between the grown-ups, unable to follow their conversations. Why had everyone kept me from all this?
“Well, we all know how humans destroyed most of our accounts after the war broke out and rewrote their own. And ours? Well, they’re buried beneath shadows.” Sebian gave a knock on the table before he turned away. “If the ladies will excuse me.”
I looked after him as he turned and walked toward the high table. He jumped up, only for his ravens to cross the distance with one beat of their wings before Sebian reappeared seated… at the
high table. Beside Malyr.
They were close friends.
Disturbing.
“What about this one?” I jutted my chin toward Sebian but kept my voice low. “Can he be trusted?”
“That one charms himself between the legs of the most gods-fearing maidens, leaving them ruined and heartbroken,” she whispered, but Sebian must’ve heard it anyway, since he looked up from where
he poured himself a cup of wine, narrowing his eyes at Cici. “Also thoroughly satisfied.”
Sebian gave Cici a little gesture of gratitude and hinted a bow. Then he stared at me, mirth sparking light and color into his handsome green eyes before he winked. It sent an unwelcome flutter into my chest until his face disappeared behind the cup. Gods fetch him, he was a terrible scoundrel,
wasn’t he?
A flicker of light caught my attention.
On instinct, my gaze shifted to its source, a silver knife that reflected the lick of the flames from a candlestick. A finger ran along it, slowly, pulling dread down my throat and into my burning chest with how I suddenly held my breath. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t—
My eyes lifted.
Damnit, Galantia!
They connected with Malyr’s.
A chill spread across my skin, rising the fine hairs at my nape. They broke against that stupid collar of feathers when he lifted his hand to his neck. He ran his thumb along the healing cuts I’d left on the side of his throat. Then, in one unhurried, languid motion, he lapped the digit.
Lick the knife, Galantia.
My eyes snapped to that wicked grin he gave me. Teasing me, taunting me. Bastard!
Do not provoke him!
Right. No provoking.
Lowering my gaze took effort as I set aside that obstinance Mother often scolded me for. It would gain me nothing in this place, whereas keeping my mouth shut might just get me back to my chamber.
How long did I need to stay here? Could I leave now?
“Lady Galantia of House Brisden!” Malyr’s sudden shout silenced everything. Everything but my heart, which stumbled into a quicker pace. “Will you not sit beside me, where you belong?”
