Page 30 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

They’d probably force me to obey. Or maybe the king would want to have nothing to do with me if I made a scene? What would happen to me, then?

I could always go back to my initial plan of escaping Sky Kingdom. I could find a way to jump back into the River of Mists and hope I didn’t end up in the time period where I’d risk dying from plague or famine, be killed at war, or burned at a stake. That left me with a very narrow window of time, barely a sliver of a few decades in the entire human history. With my luck, could I even count on landing somewhere safe back in the human world?

Once again, it seemed safer to just wait and see what this world had in store for me. I didn’t know enough about life in the palace to speculate on that.

“Tell me about the king,” I asked Brebie. “What is he like?”

“The king? Oh, he’s magnificent!” Brebie gushed. “Splendid and simply breathtaking. To be introduced to him is a huge honor. If you manage to impress him tonight and become his favorite, you’d never have to worry about anything ever again.”

Did I have what it took to impress the mighty Sky King?

“What does he like to do?” I asked. “How does he spend his free time? He does have some free time, doesn’t he?”

Leaving me in the capable hands of the maids and the woman artist, Brebie trotted around the room, putting away the items they didn’t need anymore, like the oils and the blankets they’d used during my massage.

“King Tiane has impeccable taste,” she said. “His parties at Elaros are famous all over Nerifir. His Majesty is an excellent dancer. He paints beautiful art. And he holds the highest appreciation for the best artists and performers. You’ll hear the most exquisite music tonight.” She paused her flurry of activities, giving me a curious glance. “Can you dance or sing? Paint maybe?”

My memories were gone. But when I thought about standing up and breaking into a song or a dance in front of a crowd, I felt no confidence. Instead, anxiety paralyzed me.

“I don’t think so.” I shook my head.

Brebie’s lovely face fell with disappointment.

“That’s a pity. It might have helped you gain a favor with the king if you did.” She tapped her chin with her finger, contemplating something for a moment. “Of course, you’d have to be exceptionally good at that to impress him. Well.” She shrugged, her voice lifting optimistically. “Maybe it’s for the best. You’re a human. Which makes you rare and special without you having to do a thing. We’ll make you look pleasant to the royal eye, and you’ll do just fine. All you’ll have to do is to smile and act sweet.”

ChapterEight

SPARROW

“Smile and act sweet,”I repeated in my head when it was time to go.

Brebie opened the door to my room to hand me over to the guards who would take me to the royal ballroom.

“You’re not coming?” I asked her, wishing to have at least one familiar face with me.

“No, honey. The royal balls are the affairs of highborn.”

She straightened the gauzy layers of my skirts. The pink fabric was so light and frothy, it felt like a cloud floating around my legs. Despite the many layers, however, the fabric was so transparent, one could easily see the shape of my legs underneath.

“Have fun.” Brebie smiled and wiggled her fingers at me before the guards whisked me away.

We headed up again, using the series of tiny little staircases. The vines in the walls grew thinner the higher we ascended. The crystal inserts grew wider, more brightly illuminating the space around us.

Servants rushed by. Many paused in their tracks to give me a quick once-over.

My face burned as I knew my dress left little to the imagination. The bodice consisted of four pink transparent scarves. The two in the front were attached to the waist of the dress and draped over my breasts. They were tied on my shoulders with the two similar scarves that crisscrossed my back. The thin material left my breasts almost completely exposed, with all the pretty swirls painted over my nipples shining through.

The only solid piece in my outfit was the belt. Made from light-gray leather, it was almost as wide as an under-bust corset, and just as tailored and stiff. It was laced with a golden ribbon on the back, cinching my middle in so tight, I could barely breathe. Or maybe my out-of-control nerves were the reason for my shortness of breath?

Either way, by the time we made it up to the wide, open space of the top floors, I feared I might pass out.

The vines in the walls up here lightened to ash white. Thinner than my arms, they held opaque crystal panels that flooded the space with soft, multi-colored light.

The walls retreated, opening the space for a wide, winding staircase in the middle. It circled the entire room, open to the floors above and below. This clearly was no longer the space meant for servants.

The vines twisted and curved into an ornamental railing, surrounding the glimmering white marble stairs. Leaning against the railing, High General Voron waited, looking effortlessly elegant like every other time I’d seen him.

He was wearing a white shirt this time. His black vest was stitched with silver shooting stars. It was shorter, reaching down only a little past his waist. Both the shirt and the vest were buttoned all the way up.

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