Page 32 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

“Wow.” I whistled softly. “The tempers run high around here.”

He glanced at me with that ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Royals tend to be swift and dramatic in their actions,” he agreed. “As it happened, King Aigel didn’t live long enough to rebuild the palace. His son, King Herane, the father of the current king, inherited still very much a ruin along with the Sky Crown. He was the one who finished the construction, using marble and crystals instead of relying solely on thelilialavines. It makes the palace far more resistant in case of fire.”

“Was the old palace made exclusively from the vines, then?”

“Mostly, yes. Thelilialavines are highly responsive to the royal magic that comes with the Sky Crown. The wearer of the crown becomes a part of the Sky Palace. King Tiane can move the walls or reinforce them if needed in case of an attack on Elaros.”

“Interesting.”

He stopped. And I realized the stairs had ended. I realized something else, too. By having a small talk on an unrelated topic, Voron had helped me calm down. My nerves had settled somewhat, and breathing became a little easier.

“The most significant part of this story, however,” he said, helping me from the last step onto the marble of the top floor, “the most significant foryou, I shall say, is that the gorgonian queen happened to be human. Just like you.”

“Human?” I stopped, rooted in my place. “How long ago did you say it was?”

“Over a thousand years.”

The hope of seeing another human woman died almost the moment it appeared.

“It was a long time ago.” I sighed.

“It was. While the human queen was held in the Sky Palace, apparently, she managed to leave quite an impression on King Aigel.”

“Is that why he made that deal with Trez, then?” It dawned on me.

“Precisely. King Aigel didn’t live long enough to see thebrackfulfill his end of the bargain. Which turned out lucky for King Tiane.” He darted a glance at the white double doors up ahead. “Now, he gets to have you.”

Anxiety rippled through my insides at the mention of the king. I tugged at my ear as we stopped in front of the doors at the end of the landing guarded by at least a dozen men in silver-gray uniforms. At the sight of Voron, they opened the doors immediately, without asking a single question.

Music rushed from the ballroom. The crystals in the walls and the floor glowed with pale violet light that slowly turned into magenta pink, then golden yellow, flooding the huge open space with light.

I gripped Voron’s arm so tight, he winced but didn’t extract himself from my fingers.

“Just breathe, Sparrow. This is supposed to be a fun, relaxing evening,” he said. Then added, “For most of us, anyway.”

Not for me. The room was filled with strangers who immediately turned to gawk at me. Nothing about it felt fun or relaxing.

“Just breathe…”Voron’s words echoed in my mind.

I forced my lungs to expand, my chest heaving. Exhale. Inhale again. That was all I could do as Voron led me through the parting crowd.

People were everywhere. Some reclined in wide armchairs placed along the walls and by the numerous tall windows. Others mingled in the middle, stepping aside to make way for Voron and me. A fair number of the guests hovered under the ceiling, wings of all shapes and colors beating the air between the pale gray rafters made of intertwined vines.

All eyes were on me. My skin prickled with awareness. But at least, I didn’t feel on display because of my outfit. The clothes of many of those present were even more revealing than mine.

Most men were shirtless. Some had on only prettily decorated loin cloths in lieu of pants. And with those men fluttering around under the ceiling, the tiny loin cloths really covered nothing at all.

Many women were topless as well. The rest had their breasts at least partially exposed, too, their chests painted with beautiful designs similar to mine.

As far as clothes went, I fit right in with this crowd. It was Voron who stood out as severely overdressed with all his buttoned-up layers.

Not only was his outfit out of place, his facial expression didn’t match the cheerful mood of the room either. His eyes narrowed. His shapely mouth pressed into a firm line. He held his head high as if in challenge to everyone present.

The crowd split in two, parting all the way along the room for us. A round dais came into view, with the king sitting on his throne.

There was no doubt the man was the king. And it wasn’t just because of the massive crown of gold and silver spikes he was sporting. The man’s self-assured pose on the tall throne of interwoven vines, raised on the dais, betrayed the high position he held.

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