I smirked and, recognizing my luggage, dashed across the sitting area to the room on the left. Sona lamps lit a spacious room of dark wood draped in blue and gold. Two tall, narrow windows let in the fading sunlight, and a plush black carpet warmed the dark floor at the foot of a massive bed piled high with pillows.

Kiva filled the doorway as I dropped beside the trunk with the egg, fishing the key from my pocket and unlocking it. Carefully, I pulled away the blankets, my mind filled with images of cracks and scattered shell pieces. The last blanket fell away, revealing the egg, whole and in perfect condition.

A knot released in my chest as I pulled the egg into my lap. Going days without feeling the connection between us had felt like a form of withdrawal. Now, the warm, reassuring feeling that spread through me when I touched it made me feel safe, as if the crow had shrouded me in its wings.

“Now what?” Kiva asked.

I ran my fingers along the shell, the humming of the egg working away at my anxiety. “First we get through dinner. Then I see about getting out of this damn castle.”

* * *

Unlike in Aris, where dinner was family and close friends, Razel held a full court. The banquet hall was wide with a high vaulted ceiling, a massive glass chandelier dangling from the center, and on a small platform built into the back, Razel sat with her distinguished guests. Tonight, that meant me.

Razel had stuck me between her and Ericen. On her other side sat a handsome nobleman in his late twenties, who Razel occasionally flattered with her attention.

We faced a room with four long tables, each filled with food and richly dressed lords and ladies. Or were they soldiers? I couldn’t tell the difference. Some wore thick shirts and pants with matching jackets so rigid, they looked like uniforms, others uniforms so suave and finely cut, they looked like suits.

How many of them had family members sitting on Rhodaire’s border, threatening my people?

From my place at Razel’s table, I could see the sneers the rest of the room tossed in my direction. They stared with open disdain, their expressions made more hostile by the weapons they all carried. Mostly straight swords after Illucian custom, but some had baldrics of knives across their chests or simple daggers at their waists.

What I didn’t expect was the way they looked at each other, as if each tablemate were an opponent to be outmaneuvered and destroyed. I’d learned from tutors that even among families, Illucians cared only about competition for rank and prestige, but the way they looked at each other made my skin crawl. They were like wolves looking for a weak spot, their postures rigid in preparation to strike and scramble up the ranks.