Page 26 of Cages and Crowns
My eyes fly open, as wide as they can go, as I stare at this bird. This tiny black raven sitting before me, whose body could be no larger than the size of my hand.
It can’t be.
“Enzo?” I whisper. He nods and I nearly collapse, my free hand shaking as it grips onto the back of the chair. “No. No, that’s impossible. How can that be?” His eyes soften and he jumps back on my arm. I watch as he writes out the letters:W, A, I, T.“Wait?” I whisper. He nods again and I feel tears pricking behind my eyes. He jumps in the air and flies in a circle around the room before returning to me. His wing lightly brushes my cheek before he soars through the open balcony doors and disappears.
This isn’t real. This is a dream. It has to be. My gaze is fixed to the open sky, my heart pounding furiously in my throat.He’s coming. He’s going to come for me.Thel said he would, but this isn’t real. He can’t be a bird. There is no possible way—the bedroom door opens and Tobias walks in, a wide grin plastered to his face.
“My queen, I am so proud of you.” I whirl around to face him, quickly rubbing my arm on the side of my robe, hoping I smudged the lip stain enough to make it illegible, if he even notices in the first place.
“What?” I croak, my palms growing sweaty. He saunters over to me, mischief and excitement clouding his eyes as he clasps my cheeks between his hands.
“He is so beautiful.” His eyes flit back and forth between mine as he waits for a response. His hot breath fanning across my face. He looks like he is going to cry.
“What are you talking about?” I whisper.
“Our son, Cynfael.” My pulse skips and a soft, terrified voice fills my head.Help me, Elaenor.
“I don’t understand.” I turn towards the door as I see movement, his hands releasing my face so I can look. An older woman walks in with an infant, no more than a couple of months old, a dusting of copper hair along his head. He’s wrapped in a deep gray blanket, his eyes wide and curious. “Tobias. Whose child is that?” I ask, afraid that he’ll speak what I already know aloud.
“That is our son, Ela.” His voice is full of irritation, irritation that I don’t recognize this child thatisn’tmine. This child that belongs to another. Tiny blue eyes meet mine. Oh Gods.Nylah.
“Tobias, where is Nylah?” I whisper as the baby is pushed into my arms. I take the small bundle, and the tiny childcoosin response.She asked me for help. It wasn’t a dream. She asked me for help, and I could do nothing.
“She’s gone.” He says matter-of-factly before grabbing the whiskey off the bar cart.
“Tobias, did you kill Nylah?” My voice cracks and I look up at him.He pours himself some of the amber liquid and downs it before answering me.
“She was trying to take our son, it’s treasonous. I had to protect our family, Elaenor.” He drops the glass back onto the bar cart and I fight the overwhelming urge to scream, to panic.
“This isn’t my child!” I snap, a choked sob escaping my throat.
He killed her. He killed Nylah. I can’t believe it. I don’t believe it. This. Isn’t. Real. Cynfaelcoos, and I close my eyes, fighting the tears.
“Tobias, where is she?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed, but he doesn’t answer my question.
“Take care of him, my love, that’s a future king in your arms.” He turns without another word, leaving me with a child that isn’t mine, and fear brewing deep in my abdomen.
Chapter Fourteen
The Protector
1 Month Later
“How long are we supposed to wait?” I snap, restlessness pulling at my bones.
“Hmm?” A tired voice pipes up from my right. I glance over at Scarlett who is half asleep on the settee. Her pale blue dress is wrinkled and wrapped around her like a tourniquet. Her chestnut hair is free, spread out along the pillow beside her head. Her skin is deepening, less pale and more golden as she spends less and less time in her room. She looks beautiful, peaceful, as she lays there.
She has been joining us outside the walls lately. She comes when Nithe and I check the lake, ensuring that none of the Noterran forces arelaying claim to it. That alone has vastly improved her health, and she is no longer malnourished and weak. She’s strong. She’s exactly as my father described.
Scarlett and I have grown close these last couple of weeks, despite all odds. Despite our earlier hatred for each other. I don’t necessarily believe it was ever hatred, just discomfort. Discomfort that we both were hurting and in pain as we wait for Elaenor, but instead of fighting each other, we realized we worked better together. Not in any official way besides our need for comfort, for release.
She has started to spend some evenings in Emery’s room and the days in mine while we wait. While we wait for either progress or news that Elaenor is gone. It’s a weird situation, one that mostly benefits Scarlett, but not a single one out of the three of us are complaining, at least not to her.
It’s been a month since I saw Elaenor. One month since my hair returned to completely back to black. I was tired of everyone staring at it, so I cut it all off. Scarlett actually helped me, she found me losing my mind and going at it with a blade. I had small cuts all over the top of my head as I kept nicking my skin. She sat me down, told me to relax, and took the blade to my scalp. She was quiet as she worked, but I watched her in the mirror. I watched her eyes glisten with unshed tears. I watched her hands shake and her shoulders pitch inwards as she stared at the black strands. She was hurting, but she helped anyway. My hair has grown a bit since then, but so has our affection towards one another.So has our desire to bring each other comfort.
“How long should we wait until I go back?” I ask, my eyes still searching her soft face for any hint of regret. I keep thinking she’ll change her mind and decide it isn’t me she wants to spend her time with. I know feelings weren’t supposed to get involved, but I find I am calmer in her presence. She brings a feeling of peace I never expected. I look away, forcing myself to take a deep breath. Distance. I need distance.
But I don’t want it.
