Page 78 of Crownless King

“But did you love him?”

“No,” I said, lying a little less this time.

My feelings for Voron weren't love at first sight. There had been a time when I didn’t love him, or at least didn’t know that I loved him.

With one leg bent under her, she pushed herself in the rocking chair with the other.

“Are you ever going to tell him?”

The creaking of the old chair was getting on my nerves, but it was not nearly as annoying as the questions she was bombarding me with.

Bending my elbows, I rested my forearms on the cot, then pressed my forehead into my hand, riding another brutal swell of pain. They seem to roll one on top of each other now, with hardly any break for me in between.

Sauria had given me some tea earlier. It warmed my insides, relieving the pain, but not enough.

“Do you have more of that tea?” I exhaled the moment the cramp rolled downwards.

“You can’t have any more.” She got off the chair and massaged my lower back through my undershirt. “But you’re doing great, Sparrow. Tell me about your life in the palace. What were the royal parties like?”

I didn’t want to talk about Elaros. It’d be impossible to do without talking about Voron, and I was in enough pain already.

“No.” I shook my head. “How about you tell me how you became a hag instead? How old were you when it happened?”

She kept rubbing my back, her slim, quick fingers loosening the knots of pain out of my muscles.

“It didn’t happen overnight,” she said. “It takes a while to become a hag, and I’m still learning. But I always knew my magic was stronger than that of anyone else in our town.”

“You did?” I stiffened, racked by yet another contraction. Focusing on Sauria’s dry, rustling voice made this one easier to bear, though.

“Yes,” she said. “My parents knew it, too. My father served in the army of a High Lord. I’m not going to tell you which one. Because it doesn’t matter, he’s dead now.”

I panted through more pain and tension. “Who’s dead, your dad or the High Lord?”

“Both, actually. They happened to be on the wrong side during one of the wars of King Tiane. The king won, and my father was killed, along with the High Lord he served.”

That must have been one of the wars that Voron had won for King Tiane. And now, my thoughts flew back to that man, like a flock of homing pigeons going home.

“How about your mother?” I asked quickly, keeping the conversation on topic.

“She’s well and alive.”

“She is?” Somehow, I’d assumed both Sauria’s parents would be long dead by now.

“Yes. She lives in the High Lord’s palace with the court of his successor. I visit her sometimes.”

“Did your parents want you to become a hag?”

She shrugged. “It didn’t matter what they wanted. No one can force you to take the hag’s vow or to stop you from taking it. But they didn’t stand in my way, for which I am grateful. I was ten when I asked to learn more about hags and their magic. At nineteen, I was allowed to attend the convent.”

“To pray and stuff?” I could only speak in short sentences now.

“To pray? Ha!” She prodded my belly, checking the baby’s position. “No. That’s not what hags’ convents are for. We’re not priestesses. We serve people, not gods.”

“What did you do in your convent, then?”

“For three years, I had to subject myself to every possible kind of debauchery out there, to be fully informed of what I was giving up by taking the hag’s vow.”

“Debauchery? Like what?”

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