Page 52 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

“That’s a thirsty little hummingbird in search of some nectar,” I said with a wink.

Everyone laughed louder, including the king.

“And what do you think about me, my baby bird?” he asked next.

A smile played on his lips, but by the way the king’s eyes narrowed with warning, I knew I had to tread carefully.

“You, my king, are a majestic swan, soaring high above the clouds.”

This wasn’t a joke, not a funny one, anyway. The syrupy flattery of my words made my own teeth ache. But the king’s smile grew wider. I obviously said what he wished to hear.

“Aren’t you a treasure,” he cooed, kissing my cheek. “Now tell me what you think about my High General.”

I should’ve noticed he’d asked that after glancing briefly over my shoulder, but I was too preoccupied with gauging the mood in the room to notice. I realized I was toeing the fine line between making people laugh and hurting their feelings. It was a delicate balance to keep, requiring all my concentration.

When it came to Voron, however, nothing I could say about him would be flattering at the moment. That man pushed all my buttons without trying, without even being present in the room. My body tingled with excitement at the mere sound of his name, and I wished to have none of it.

“The High General?” I said, my voice brimming with sarcasm disguised as glee. “Do you mean that buttoned-up, cranky old prude? He’s probably sitting with his books right now, despising all of us from the bottom of his heart that’s as dark as his clothes.”

The king roared with laughter, the rest of the courtiers did too, and I didn’t pay much attention to the change in their expressions or the way the king glanced behind my back once again.

I kept going, “Do you think that hanging out with his pet crow might be turning him into a grumpy old bird, too? What is he doing all day? Lurking around, glowering, and snatching things that don’t belong to him?” Like my memories, my name, and now my sanity. My voice lifted dramatically to the delight of the crowd. “A gloomy, wingless crow, that’s what he is.”

“A wingless crow!” The king doubled over with laughter, folding in half over my lap.

I smiled, glad that I could please him even if at the expense of the anger rising inside me. I didn’t want to think about Voron, but he just wouldn’t get out of my head, infuriatingly persistent.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Dove waving at me to get my attention. She stared at me pointedly, her big eyes growing even bigger as she flicked them toward the doors in front of the table. Since I was sitting sideways on King Tiane’s lap, the doors weren’t in my direct line of view.

Dread frosted my insides as I slowly turned in that direction, already knowing what, or ratherwhom,I would find there.

Voron stood by the doors, staring straight at me.

ChapterThirteen

SPARROW

Why? Oh, why did this room need two sets of doors, one on each end? The last time I saw the High General, he was at the doors behind the king. Then, he left. How was I supposed to know he’d returned using the opposite set of doors?

Voron was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest. His cape was draped over his shoulders like the wings he didn’t have.

Everyone was laughing at him. Because of me. He could’ve fled the room, but he remained in his spot, taking it all.

He tilted his head with a rather amused expression on his face. As if it wasmeeveryone was laughing at, not him.

“Is it because you’re perched on the royal lap, dear Sparrow, that you think there is no consequence to your chirping?” he asked as the laughter had died down.

It felt like a challenge. This man could heat my blood in so many ways. It was infuriating and oddly exciting at the same time. Adrenaline shot through my system like I was faced with a life-or-death situation.

I sensed I should keep my mouth shut at this point, but I couldn’t stop baiting him. It was like throwing stones into a volcano about to erupt. I knew I was playing with fire, but I longed for the light that also came with the explosion.

Words rushed out of me, impossible to hold back.

“Oh, how dare I!” I cupped my face with both hands, faking horror. “Pray tell, High General, what punishment should befall me for making jokes about you?”

I was inviting his wrath. But I felt I could take it, ready to fight him. I wanted his mask to crack once again. I longed to see the real Voron, no matter how devastating that might be for me.

He unfolded his arms, then rolled back his wide shoulders slowly, just like he’d done it back in the gardens. That deliberate way of moving before exploding into rage reminded me of the storm clouds gathering menacingly before the storm would hit full force.

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