Page 134 of King of Storms and Feathers

“Another letter from Coridon, sister,” said Van, catching up to me as I walked along the river with three ladies from the court.

“Who is it this time?” I asked, shading my eyes from the sun and feigning disinterest as I let my friends walk ahead.

He smirked, offering me the tiny scroll sealed with the Storm Court’s insignia, two lightning bolts on a background of floating feathers. “There’s only one way to find out. Hurry up and open the damn thing.”

Holding my breath, I snatched the scroll and unraveled it, scanning the signature. I swallowed my disappointment. Stormur again.

Three weeks had passed since Arrow left Mydorian, and in that time, he’d only written to me twice, both letters extremely unsatisfying.

I longed to read poetic declarations of love and devotion. And instead, he wrote long descriptions of the weather and repeatedly asked me to allow his Sayeeda to return to Coridon before the coronation.

That decision was beyond my control. No one, other than Arrow, could tell Ari what to do. If she wasn’t responding to his requests, then he should have realized he would only have her back in Coridon when she was good and ready to leave here.

Arrow’s letters felt wrong. Off. In fact, they didn’t sound like him at all. Not just the lack of frequency, but their content and tone told me he regretted declaring his affections and wished he could retract the words he had spoken.

But Ari saw no issues. Tensions still ran high between the Sun and Light Realms. And she assured me that Arrow would write little of importance, fearing fire fae might intercept the missives and use them against me.

I couldn’t wait to see him down on his knees, begging forgiveness for making me worry that his feelings had changed. And I couldn’t wait another two weeks for him to do it.

For dust’s sake, the man had wings. Why hadn’t he flown to Mydorian for a sleepless night of fun?

I stopped walking and spun in a circle, a thrilling idea taking shape in my mind.

“Van,” I said, linking our arms and strolling forward. “Everything is progressing well in Mydorian, is it not?”

“Indeed. Our people’s stomachs are full, and they wear smiles again, instead of grimaces of fear.”

I scanned his handsome face, noting that color and fullness had returned to his cheeks. “And you’re well and not tempted to take a dose of serum?”

“Absolutely not. Thanks to you and Ari, I never will again.”

“Excellent! Conditions are perfect.”

“For what?”

Grinning, I said, “Will you ask the scribe to send a letter to King Arrowyn? Tell him not to leave his city, a female envoy from Mydorian is coming to visit, leaving today. Be sure he underlines the word female.”

“Zali, you’re not serious. You can’t leave the city now.”

“It will be fine. I’ll go alone, cloaked, and sneak into Coridon with ease. Don’t look so worried. I know you’ll take good care of everything while I’m gone. I'm bored and need an adventure. I’ll only be away for a week at the most, I promise, then I’ll return. If I’m needed, Arrow can fly me back within hours.”

“It isn’t safe!”

“I’ve worked hard to improve my cloaking skills. If I can’t be seen, I can’t be hurt.”

“When will you stop being so reckless, Zali?” he said, raking a hand through his dark curls.

I laughed. “Probably never.” Tugging on his arm, I swung us to face the palace. “After you’ve had the letter sent, come and talk to me while I pack.”

The hardest part of leaving had been getting away from Van, Ari, and several worried counselors. But three days after my conversation with my brother, my white mare, Luna, and I were traveling across the desert near the Auryinnia Mountains.

The swift ride to the port and journey on a large fishing boat had been uneventful, and now, excitement bubbled in my veins, and I could barely keep my seat in the saddle. Because before long, I would be back in Coridon and engaging in my favorite activity—torturing Arrow in his crescent-shaped bed.

Smiling at the thought, I pulled Luna to a stop, wiped sweat from my face, then gulped water from my pouch. In the distance, a dust storm rolled toward me over the desert. Inside it, two midnight horses pulled a carriage so black it seemed to suck the red and gold hues from the dunes.

Since I didn’t recognize the armor of the five riders who galloped around the carriage, I prepared to draw a cloak of invisibility around my shoulders. Then I noticed blue hair escaping from beneath the first rider’s helmet, and my heart leaped into my mouth.

Esen.

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