“We can’t risk this not being an isolated incident. I mean it, Anthia. I’ll post guards if I need to.”

I almost laughed. For months, I’d hidden in these walls, and now that I wanted to leave, I wasn’t allowed?

I stood. “What a time for you to take an interest in my well-being.”

Her lips parted, but I didn’t wait for a response before stalking from the room. Kiva fell into step beside me. The blood had dried on her shirt and skin, turning a muddy brown. She looked as exhausted as I felt.

We climbed the stairs to the second floor. “What did your mother say?” I asked.

Kiva’s expression turned grim as it always did when we discussed Captain Mirkova. “The usual.” Her voice changed as she mimicked her mother’s Korovi accent. “Here I thought you were good enough to work alone, Sakiva. You need to train more. Perhaps I shouldn’t have you teaching my new recruits, Sakiva, if you’re going to make mistakes like that. You should know better than to go alone.”

“You nearly sounded like her that time,” I said with a small smile.

I returned to my room, where my bed sat warm and inviting with the promise that if I climbed under the covers, everything would be okay again when I came out. My people wouldn’t hate me, Ericen wouldn’t be arriving tomorrow, and the crow would hatch and protect us from Illucia.

I didn’t try to fight it.

Four

The next morning, I lay beneath the darkness and warmth of the covers and tried not to think about what was coming. I’d never met Prince Ericen, but everything about Illucia made my stomach turn. Their vain focus on appearances, their militaristic lifestyle, their cold, rainy weather; I hated it all.

Groaning, I rolled over to face the massive floor-to-ceiling windows on one side of my room. Windows meant to open for crows. The sight made me feel even worse. I’d been trying to convince myself to get up for hours.

On the nightstand beside my bed, papers had been tossed in a haphazard pile. Letters. Some were from riders and house lords and ladies, others from soldiers I’d sparred with during training. Some were even from Caliza, written in invisible ink made from shadow crow feathers, like we’d done as children. All failed attempts to cheer me up. All asking if I was okay, if they could help. I didn’t deserve it.

Useless. The word echoed in my head, and images from my ride through the city yesterday joined it. People selling fake mementos on the dusty ground, Brynth masons with ice in their eyes, that little girl silently asking me why.

A fire kindled in my chest, but it wasn’t the first time I had lain there and let it die.