Page 150 of A War of Crowns

He surely could have no further objections. There was nothing else keeping him from reaching out and taking what should have been his in the first place.

And yet, still, he would not look at her. His gaze remained averted even when he asked, “And how can you be sure I will not simply smother you on our wedding night, kirei?”

That question earned an indignant huff from her godfather.

But Seraphina merely wrinkled her nose. Surely, he was jesting. “That is bold of you to assume there will even be a wedding night,” she countered, arching an eyebrow.

For some odd reason,thatresponse was the one to earn a faint smile from Aldric’s lips and lure his gaze back her way. Finally, he reached out and clasped her hand. Within the first rays of dawn breaking through the stained-glass windows behind her, his one good eye shimmered.

Tears. The Crow of Drakmor’s gaze housed unshed tears.

“Agreed,” he conceded at last, his voice husky and low. But his touch abruptly withdrew from her hand with his voicing of that single word. As if her skin had suddenly scalded him.

Goosebumps prickled her arm in the absence of his warmth. But she gritted her teeth and ignored the sensation. “We have come to an agreement, then?” Seraphina asked instead.

“Yes,” her Crow breathed without pause. “It would seem we have.” Tilting his head to the side, he observed, “It would seem we are allies, after all. For now.”

Seraphina sat back on her heels and turned her head to look toward her family, where they stood nearby. Duke Percival wore his customary frown. Sir Tristan looked uncertain, while the very air around Olivia seemed to crackle with her displeasure. She would need to speak to her friend later. But her godmother looked on with a small smile on her lips and tears of her own shining in her eyes.

Duke Percival was the first to break the sudden silence between them when he groused, “It seems we’re going to war, then.”

Duchess Edith made a face, her smile gone in an instant. “We’vebeenat war, darling.”

But her godfather shook his head. “This is a different sort of war, my star. Coups and conquering.” Duke Percival narrowed his eyes, looking down at her Crow. “Let us pray the High Shepherd supports this man’s claim. We will need the Church to stand with us in the days to come.”

Olivia stepped forward, her lips pressed into a thin line. Stiffly, she eased herself down to her knees at Seraphina’s side. “To war, then,” her best friend whispered, though her gaze remained hard.

But still, she was with her. Even angry, Olivia was with her.

Seraphina reached over and took her friend’s hand. “Thank you, Olivia.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Duchess Edith echoed, “To war, then.” Stepping closer, the elderly noblewoman grasped both her and Olivia by the shoulders. “We’ll face whatever comes, together.”

Like that little flame from her vision, a sudden warmth sparked within Seraphina’s heart. It was small, that warmth. Weak. But she held it close as she leaned into her godmother’s touch and looked back Aldric’s way.

His gaze met with hers, unreadable as ever. He had no smile for her. No inspiring words. He did not place his hand back upon her arm. But he was there. He had stayed.

And that meant everything.

“Together,” Seraphina repeated, certain now this was the path forward. That word felt right, lingering in the air between her and her Crow.

She still didn’t understand her vision. There were still so many questions that needed answers. But this, at least, felt right.

Together, they’d face whatever might come next.

Together, they’d save the world.

Or they would die trying.

Chapter forty

Dane

Dane’s arms burned. His back ached. Sweat poured down his brow and blurred his vision.

He breathed in deep his own stink—the smell of which had long since soaked into the scarf he wore wound across his nose and mouth. Overhead, the Arathian sun peeked out from behind a rare blanket of dark clouds.

The sea of Arathian soldiers and war elephants stretching beyond the walls of Fort Mysai and out into Dry Reach remained unbroken. The inky smog still hung low over the port city, keeping the usuri grounded.

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