Page 38 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

She considered that.

“If you really need a walk, go down to the gardens. That’s what they’re there for,” she said. “My husband is the head gardener. I’ll get him to take you there.”

Everyone here, from a maid to the king, treated me like a toddler in constant need of supervision. From the moment I arrived at Elaros, I hadn’t made a single step outside of my room without someone escorting me.

Sure, it was easy to get lost here with so many floors and countless staircases. But if I couldn’t explore the palace at my leisure, how would I ever learn my way around?

This wasn’t the best time to argue with Brebie, however. She already looked winded and irritated, making sure hundreds of shoes weren’t accidentally put away with just as many gloves and my new barrettes didn’t end up stored in the same box as silk handkerchiefs.

“Fine,” I conceded with a resigned sigh, allowing her to call her husband in.

Brebie’s husband turned out to be one of the men who had delivered the metal tub for my bath. He was the one with the head of a bull.

“Kanbor, honey,” she said to him when he arrived. “Please take Sparrow to the gardens. She wants to walk a little while we’re finishing up here.”

Standing in the middle of my bedroom filled with piles of silk, heaps of ruffles, and trunks full of shoes, ribbons, and furs, the giant man looked rather lost.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he boomed, carefully stepping around baskets and jewelry boxes lined up by the fireplace. Something cracked under his hoof, and he froze with terror on his large, bovine face. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I assured him, as Brebie retrieved the remnants of the pulverized tortoise shell barrette from under his hoof.

“Why don’t the two of you keep going now?” She waved at the door impatiently. “Off with you both.”

Kanbor retreated to the door promptly, clearly relieved to be leaving. I grabbed a pale-blue velvet cloak embroidered with silver dandelions from one of the open trunks and headed out, too. He pointed in the direction of the nearest staircase, and I turned that way as he heavily stomped beside me.

As we walked down the stairs, I tried to study Kanbor without making it too obvious. He probably wasn’t much taller than Voron, though his hooves and horns certainly added to his height. But he was so much thicker everywhere, his brawn made him look massive.

He didn’t seem intimidating, however. His large, dark eyes trimmed with thick eyelashes gave him a kind, soulful expression.

Kanbor was dressed in a pair of long, brown pants and a light-green tunic with a simple embroidery around his thick neck. The extravagant, revealing clothing I’d seen people wear at the royal ball must be reserved for highborn only.

As the staircase ended, Kanbor turned toward another one and caught me staring.

I averted my eyes, but not quickly enough. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“That’s fine,” he boomed good-naturedly. “I’m used to being stared at. There aren’t that many of ustaureansin Elaros.”

“Taureans?Is that what your kind is called?”

He nodded his large head. His wide tongue lapped at the corner of his mouth.

“My folk tend to stay close to land, away from the big cities like Elaros. All my family are farmers. I have a farm, too, but I let my nephew run it while I’m here.”

“What made you move to Elaros and leave behind your farm?”

“Notwhat. Who. Brebie.”

His lips stretched in a smile. It was a bizarre image—a smiling bull. But the kindness and intelligence in his eyes set him far apart from the animal whose looks he shared. The more we spoke, the easier it was for me to think of him as handsome.

I tried to imagine these two as a couple. This slow, deliberate giant of a man and the prim and proper Brebie, who moved with the speed of lighting on her tiny hooves and probably weighed less than Kanbor’s one burly arm.

“How long have you been married?” I asked.

“We celebrated our one-century anniversary two years ago.”

“Wow, that’s a long time to be together.”

“Fae’s lifespan is about five hundred years. We have a couple of centuries ahead of us still.”

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