Page 30 of The Bone King and the Starling

“Yes.” Her voice betrays confusion. She glances up at me and our gazes lock. “Just a little.”

“Do you usually do the cooking?”

“I help when I’m required.”

Not needed. Required. “Are you often required in the kitchens?” I say, trying to keep my anger enchained.

She nods.

“Eat,” I encourage, taking another morsel of meat myself. Her calf lines my thigh and I make no move to separate us, even if I can feel her feet rotating around beneath the blankets, the clearest evidence of her discomfort. “Do you enjoy cooking?”

“En…enjoy cooking?” she asks me and the question makes me glance at the exit. Perhaps, I will go tonight to Olec after all.

“Yes. Enjoy,” I repeat, ceding no ground. She will tell me what she enjoys if I have to wrench it from her by force.

“I…suppose I don’t mind cooking, my king.”

I bite my own tongue. My king. I growl deep in the back of my throat, only once, briefly, before I catch myself. “What else do you enjoy?”

“Spending time with Ebanora and her family. Though I have not much occasion to do so, my king.”

“Ebanora. Who is she?”

“She’s…” She hesitates, chewing nervously on her bottom lip and whispers, “She’s just a girl. Poor, but they have always been kind to me when I needed kindness. It is my hope that when you…” But her voice fails her. Her courage collapses on itself like a burning thatch roof.

“Say it. I will not be angry with you.”

“It’s just…” She lowers the grapes in her hands back to the tray. She’s nervous. I hate her nerves. I want to scrape them out of her with a blade. “Apologies, my king, I simply am not certain what will happen to me when you leave our small village.”

I could laugh. “What are your concerns?” My gaze does not pass to hers. If I try to look at her, she will look away, and I rather like the way her bashful gaze feels moving over my face, assessingly, curiously, hopefully… I will not let her down. Not after I already have.

“I worry that you have punished the chief and his wife because of me, and I will be punished severely. I will probably be killed,” she says, voice the ghost of what it was before. “Tortured, first. Ebanora and her family may try to harbor me. I don’t know. But I don’t want to see them punished, too.”

I tense. Nod. This changes things a little. A very little. “You have concerns, sweet bird, but what do you enjoy?”

“I…” She falters, likely put off by my abrupt change. I want to reassure her and I will, but I need to know this. “I don’t…know, my king.”

“You don’t know?” I shake my head. “I understand that you may not have been given many occasions to feel true enjoyment, but I want to know. What do you want from this life, Starling?”

“What do I want?” She takes another small bite of honey bread. I smile down at her, looking at her with pure longing. “I want to be free to learn what I want.”

Her words are honey riddled with thorns. I can’t stand them, but at the same time, they fill me with warmth. I lean towards her and watch as her eyes widen. She looks up at me and I cannot help myself. I shift up onto my knees so that I may loom over her and kiss her temple, the press of my lips full against her skin. Gods, she tastes heavenly. Nights spent with her while she is injured will be excruciating. But I will shackle myself.

I whisper, “And you shall have that, little bird. I promise.” I retake my seat with a loud grunt and resume eating. As I do, I tell her, “I have decided to extend my time in your little village by several days. There are some matters that need sorting. I am displeased with the way Winterbren has been running. Your hall is the poorest I’ve seen in my travels across Wrath yet your Chief and his wife, among the most finely decorated. I intend to set it right.

“There is also the matter of the games. I have delayed their start by a day, but they will begin tomorrow. I had hoped to ask if you would do me the honor of sitting beside me at the games and at the feasts to follow. It is my hope to keep you close while I remain in Winterbren.” I clear my throat. “But I also understand if it…if my company… If you do not prefer my company, I will not be offended,” I lie, thoughts drifting to chains and shackles should she decline.

“I… You… I’m sorry, my liege,” she starts, and I tense, fear gripping me, “but I have many duties to attend to.”

“I have already spoken to Rosalind and Olec. They are pleased to dismiss you from your duties if you should have any interestin spending the coming days with me.” All of the days until the end of them.

Starling blinks at me brightly, looking so pretty wearing her swollen cheek like the mark of a warrior I could weep. “I… I’m not sure, my lord.”

My heart sinks. “I understand.” My voice is gruff and I struggle to hold her gaze, but force myself to anyways. “If I may be so bold as to ask what concerns you, I would be grateful for your response.”

“It’s just…I… My body is very tired and I worry that I won’t be able to give you what you want from me…”

A small rage floods my spine, causing me to sit up. “Ah,” I grunt. “I see. And I am sorry for not being more clear. I wish to sit with you, dine with you, speak with you, spend time with you…but I am fully aware that I will not have the privilege of bedding you again until you are well.”

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