“I’ll send a bird to Kuren about Trendell. If we had their support, a storm crow could be enough to inspire them to stand against Illucia. But without the crow, I don’t think Trendell will listen.”

I nodded and reached for the circlet on her head, centering it.

She gave my hand another squeeze. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

I believed her, even as I withheld the truth: I had no idea how to hatch the egg. But I would find a way. I just needed time.

Six

With Caliza’s and my plan in place, I felt more confident facing Ericen. The engagement seemed less like a storm on the horizon than a single rain cloud. We would hatch the egg, gain Trendell’s support, and stand against Illucia.

In the meantime, I’d try not to insult Ericen with every breath.

A small army accompanied us into the city for our tour. Apparently, Ericen’s arrival had stirred several protests. A few abandoned shops had been broken into, one even burned. What would people think once the news of why he was here spread?

With every step, my mare shifted nervously next to Ericen’s. I didn’t blame her. His horse looked like it might eat us both. The prince rode like he’d been born to it, the thwomp of his stallion’s steps drowning the soft clatter of my mount’s hooves.

People stared as we passed, faces infused with hate. I understood. Looking at Ericen, all I could think of were burning rookery towers and the screams of crows and people, indistinguishable from one another in the night. But bitterness lurked beneath the hatred of some, and it wasn’t for him.

I gestured to our right. “We’ll go into the Thereal Wing first.”

“The wings are named after each of your Saints, aren’t they? And they correspond with a type of crow?” Ericen asked. “So this would be the wind crows?”

Fire hurtled through my veins, but when I shot Ericen a sharp glare, the anger vanished abruptly. He wasn’t looking at me, and his normally cool expression had warmed into a look of curiosity, until he caught my gaze. The look of interest disappeared, replaced by a slight sneer.

I scowled. “Yes.”

We followed a broad street that circled the castle and cut through each wing, forming a circle around the inner city. In the fading chill of morning, street performers gathered in the shade of side streets. Shops set in bright, colorful buildings propped open doors, and the soft hum of a violin resonated through the air as a musician tested the strings.

The Thereal Wing was known for entertainment. That hadn’t changed, but a subdued atmosphere hung over the usually lively wing. The street no longer teemed with visitors, and the echoes of distant music sounded like a melody of pain and sadness.