Page 77 of Crownless King

The other part of me—the far gentler part I could never silence whenever Voron was concerned—was sad for him and wished he’d be happy, even if without me.

My boots sinking into the wet fertile dirt, I crossed a field, then turned toward the one where Bavius was working that day. With the heavy basket dangling over my left arm, I held my cloak closed against the wind with the right hand.

The wind grew stronger, tearing at my skirts. The clouds thickened, making the midday look like evening.

A painful cramp stabbed like a prolonged punch into my insides. I tripped, bending over. A gust of wind slammed against me, nearly knocking me over. Anger flared in my chest.

“Fuck you, Voron!” I screamed through the pain into the approaching storm. “Youdid this to me.”

I dropped the basket, holding my sides with both hands. Spreading my feet wider, I braced against the wind and the pain. The need to have someone at my side at that moment was so strong, loneliness hurt more than any physical pain ever could.

“You should be here, Voron,” I whispered.

My knees shook, and I gave in. I sank between the icy patches of snow in the moist soil of the field.

“You should be here, dammit. With me!” I cried.

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. The wind smeared them over my skin, tossing my hair into my face. Bent over with another swell of pain rolling through my abdomen, I was scared and more alone than ever.

Heavy drops of water suddenly hit the dirt around me. Some landed on my skirt, quickly absorbed by the coarse material of the dress I wore. The pattering of the drops grew faster and faster.

My tears halted as I stared at the water hitting the ground all around me. I held out my hand, letting the drops chill my skin.

It rained. Heavily. In the middle of the day. This was the only daytime rain I’d ever witnessed in the Sky Kingdom. And I knew exactly what it meant.

The king was crying.

He was crying during the day, not in his nightmares at night.

“Cry, Voron,” I whispered, cruelly. “Cry, my king. May you feel at least a fraction of the pain you’ve caused me.”

I tried to hold on to that unkind thought to prolong the spark of resentment and anger, but it went out quickly.

The only thing that remained was an all-consuming longing.

* * *

Sauria found me drenched and curled into myself under the torrential rain. She called Bavius from the other end of the field, and he carried me back to the house.

I paced inside the tiny bedroom behind the main room with the fireplace. Bavius used to store here some of the spare furniture and his family’s mementos going back many generations. After he’d agreed to my moving in, we’d cleaned this room out, by taking most of the things over to the barn and leaving only a narrow cot for me to sleep on, a dresser for the few things I now had, and a rocking chair in the corner.

A couple of weeks ago, Bavius had also brought in an old, carved-wood baby crib. I didn’t ask where he got it from, but I suspected it used to be his, centuries ago. It looked so ancient, it might’ve also rocked his father and his father’s father, when they were babies.

During the long winter nights, I’d knitted a few blankets, some tiny sweaters, and hats. Sauria had sourced a length of soft swaddling material that we had cut into baby blankets.

All was ready for the baby to arrive. Whether I’d caught up emotionally with that fact or not didn’t matter anymore. This baby was coming.

Another torturously long spasm gripped my belly, depriving me of breath. With a groan, I bent over the cot, propping my hands into the stiff mattress, and waited until the pain eased enough to allow me to draw some air back into my lungs.

“Fuck you, Voron.”Bounced around my brain.

The rocking chair squeaked with Sauria sitting in it. She gave it a push with her foot against the floor.

“Do you love him?” she asked.

That was a random question, but I knew exactly whom she was talking about.

“No,” I lied, hoping it would be true one day.

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