Page 118 of Crownless King

“What are you doing here?” He frowned with concern but held me tightly. “It’s not safe.”

“But it is. You did it, my king.” Dove flashed him a grin, dipping into a brief curtsy. “We came to congratulate Your Majesty on yet another victory.”

“Where is High Lord Bussard?” I asked.

“Killed in battle,” Voron replied, stroking my arm.

It clearly was a victory. The royal army took a wide circle above the castle, waving their weapons and bellowing in triumph.

Voron looked up, his eyes lit up.

“Go,” I urged. “Fly with them, Voron. You earned it.”

He glanced at me in wonder, as if it didn’t even occur to him to join his men in the victory lap around the palace.

Tentatively, he slid his wings out, unfurling them from his back. He moved them once, twice, gaining strength before lifting into the air. Instead of joining his men above us, however, he circled the tower in flight as I turned on the platform to follow him with my gaze, my hands pressed together, my heart beating with pride.

He could fly!

My wingless crow was wingless no more.

With every move of his wings, his confidence soared. A smile curved his lips. With a cheeky flash in his eyes, he zoomed into a spiral toward me.

“You’re coming with me.” He snatched me from the tower.

I cried out in shock, then threw my arms around his neck.

“You promised to trust me,” he said. “Remember? By the bridge over the Cloud River?”

I did. But that was before he broke my trust by ordering me tossed into that very river…

I shook my head, chasing away the doubts.

This was Voron’s day, his victory. Today, he’d avenged his injuries and mine. And I wished to celebrate it with him.

I tilted back my head, turning my face to the gentle caress of the breeze.

“I love it.” I laughed. “I love flying way too much for someone who has no wings—”

“But you do,” he said softly. “My wings are yours, little bird. I couldn’t have had them without you.”

His great, black wings beat the air steadily, lifting us higher. The men cheered as we joined them in their victory flight above the palace. The rising sun pierced through their wings with the light of a new day.

Voron was happy.

And that made my heart lighter, too.

ChapterThirty-One

SPARROW

For the rest of the morning, Voron wouldn’t let me out of his sight, keeping some form of physical contact with me, too, whenever possible, either by holding my hand, touching my leg with his, or simply dragging me into his side in a hug.

Together, we went through the palace as Voron organized the court life back to order. I enjoyed watching him being in charge and got a chance to learn first-hand how he ran the place. I also got to talk with many courtiers of Voron’s inner circle, including those who had accompanied him during his visit to Bavius’s farmhouse.

I loved the changes Voron had brought to Elaros. I believed Aithen and I could be happy here. Still, I didn’t tell Voron about our son. The invisible cabin in the woods felt safer for my baby to be at than the royal palace.

At midday meal, Voron sat me next to him, on his right hand side—the place reserved for spouses and closest allies. I got a chair, placed very close to Voron’s. For once, I wasn’t sitting in the king’s lap, being hand fed like a pet. I got my own plate for every course, too, like every fae at the table.

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