Page 4 of Crownless King

“He knows what I’m talking about. I stole your horse, and he woke you up to send you after me.”

Voron laughed, tossing his head back, and this time, I got to see it, not just hear it. The corners of his eyes crinkled in mirth. Creases winged the corners of his mouth, making his smile look even wider and his laugh appear even heartier.

I loved the sight of Voron in a cheerful mood way too much. It left me defenseless. I could fall for him. I could fall for him so hard, and I wouldn’t even know when exactly I stepped off the cliff.

He flashed me a teasing look. “Oh yes, that one time I let you trick me.”

“You didn’tletme! I did trick you. Fair and square.” I leaned back in my chair with a triumphant smirk. “Admit it. You lost that one.”

“All right. You did catch me off guard,” he confessed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Waking up with my feet tied up and my horse and my boots gone was a surprise.”

My smile grew wider in satisfaction. Sure, I hadn’t made it far in escaping him. All my victories had been temporary at best. I tended to win battles when Voron won wars. But if all that had brought me here to the patio of his family home, enjoying a breakfast in his company, I was not going to complain.

Magnus eyed me with heightened suspicion in his black, glossy eyes, like he expected me to take off with Voron’s silverware any minute.

I scooped up the remaining oatmeal off my plate onto my finger.

“Come here, Magnus.” I extended my porridge topped finger toward the bird as a peace offering. “Have breakfast with me. Let’s be friends.”

“He already had his breakfast.” Voron didn’t seem pleased with my attempt to spoil his pet.

“This will be his snack, then. Does he like oatmeal?”

Voron huffed. “He likes everything. I saw him gut a frog in the garden earlier this morning.”

“Eww. The porridge is so much better than a gutted frog. Please, Voron, let him have it.”

He released a long-suffering sigh.

“Why is it so fucking hard to say no to you? Fine.” With a hand gesture, he allowed Magnus to come to me.

The bird hopped onto my hand eagerly and scooped the blob of porridge with his beak.

“Ouch,” I hissed at the sting of his talons.

“You asked for it.” Voron shook his head disapprovingly, even as his lips quivered with a smile.

I laughed as Magnus took off with his loot for the second breakfast, or third, if we counted the gutted frog. The air stirred by his wings blew out my hair, and I smoothed my hand over it once the bird was gone.

“Do you think he’ll like me more now?” I watched Magnus disappear into the tall trees of the luscious grounds of Voron’s estate, probably to eat his oatmeal in peace or to hide it for later.

“He liked you too much already when he let you steal my horse,” Voron scoffed.

I licked the buttery trace of the oatmeal off my finger, giving him a look from under my windblown locks. “Then, there is hope for us still.”

“Us?”

“Magnus and me,” I clarified.

“Right.” He took a sip of his tea.

I eyed Voron’s breakfast—a plate of thinly sliced roasted white meat, fluffy egg soufflé, and grilled vegetables with a roll of flaky pastry. It looked so much better than my oatmeal. My appetite returned with a vengeance.

He intercepted my stare. “Would you like more food? You shouldn’t eat anything too heavy after your ordeal in the dungeon cell. But I can ring for some more porridge.”

“No. I’m good. Thanks.”

I refilled my porcelain cup with tea from the equally delicate teapot, trying not to dip the lacy ruffles of my sleeves into the liquid. The dress Brebie had gotten for me was made from the lightest spider silk, which was the perfect material for the warmer weather we were finally having.

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