Page 23 of King of Storms and Feathers

“You still don’t remember your birth name?”

“No, but if I did, I would hardly tell the man who’d enslaved me.”

My brow rose, but I said nothing, inspecting her slowly while she stared at my breastplate of golden feathers. I grabbed her stubborn chin between my thumb and finger, parting her lips and revealing the gap in her front teeth that I’d first spotted in the slaver’s cage. Back when spite and rage were the only things keeping her alive.

What a triumph it would be to tame such a rebellious creature.

“As punishment for this evening’s crime, your ankles will be cuffed,” I informed her. “The chain will make a pretty chime, don’t you think?”

She met my gaze. Her eyes flashed, the color as clear and bright as new leaves.

I stroked her cheek. “You’re small, and your flesh isn’t soft and pliant, but your green eyes please me.”

“Then hand me your knife,” she said, “and I’ll cut one out and add it to your pudding.”

“Know this,” I growled, squeezing her throat until her face flushed red. “If you harm yourself, I will spend my fortune, use the last traces of my power, hunt any living relatives of yours and cook them on a slow spit with lightning.” I loosened my grip. “It’s not a pleasant way to die. Do you understand?”

“Yes, King Arrowyn,” she said, her voice trembling at last.

A chuckle rumbled in my throat. This girl amused me. My hand glided from her throat to her chest, pressing against the warm skin over her collarbone. “You’re trembling like a blade of grass in a breeze. You are nothing, a leaf blown about by storms, used and abused for the wind’s pleasure. From this moment on, you shall be known as Leaf. There… I’ve given you a better name than Green. Make sure you answer to it.”

“Yes, King Arrowyn,” she said again, and if looks could kill, I’d be a pile of charred bones and ash upon the gold-veined marble of my hall.

“Tell the Sayeeda I want you to return to your room while I consider your punishment.”

I pushed her back onto her feet. She stumbled, then bowed and retreated, hurrying down the dais steps.

Beside me, Stormur laughed. “Am I dreaming? A human commits such an offense in your hall and simply walks away? Since your return from the markets, Arrowyn, you haven’t been yourself.”

I couldn’t argue. My High Counselor was correct. Shrugging a shoulder, I beckoned a guard over and instructed him to give Ari the same message I gave the girl in case she refused to relay it.

“I’m going to bed,” I said, rising and leaving my favorite dessert untouched. “The council will meet in the morning to discuss a plan to deal with the gold raiders.”

“My King,” Stormur and Ildri said, standing and bowing as I left the dais.

As I strode through the hall, Raiden and Esen peeled away from their conversation with a group of guards and fell into step with me.

Instead of leaving by my usual exit, I took a detour through the kitchen, nodding at Ari as she descended the cellar steps.

I exited the kitchen into the servants’ hall, a movement catching my eye at the far end. Three guards were tussling, partly hidden behind an auron kanara cage. My gut tightened, something telling me it was more than horseplay.

A few more strides down the hallway, revealed they were assaulting someone. It crossed my mind to let Raiden deal with it, and I stopped, about to turn away. Then a pair of green eyes flashed, staring unfocused over a guard’s shoulder armor.

They were attacking my human, who, by the looks of her, had regressed into a state of shock. If they supposed her lapse of obedience in the hall made her a fair target for their games, they couldn’t be more wrong.

“Arrow, wait,” said Raiden, reaching for my arm.

I pushed him away. “Stay out of this.”

The pungent scent of a storm infused the air as I marched forward and flung the guards off the human, their bodies hitting the opposite wall with three satisfying crunches.

“Leave,” I growled out. “Wait for me Underfloor, and do not move.”

The two that could walk scurried away like dung roaches. The girl slid down the wall, her body bruised and bleeding, the torn gold tunic exposing nail tracks on her breasts.

“Did they breach you?” I asked, whorls of blue lightning swirling my limbs.

She blinked. “What?”

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