Crown of Feathers (Book 2 of the Crown Trilogy)

Nine

The king takes the lead, with us following close behind and our chaperone grunting his disapproval.

"We will meet with the Stigian counsel first thing in the morning. Hopefully, we will hear from Lucent by then. If the Allaji are brave enough to attack Stigian, our kingdom will not be far behind," Micah says.

"You don't think they attacked after we left, do you?" I ask, and a wave of nausea washes over me. If the Stigians struggled to regain order today, our people have no chance.

Micah's gaze meets mine and the command in his tone waivers. "I pray to the Statera that they haven't."

I look up as the light around us changes and gasp. The other side of the passageway is nothing like the one we entered. Naked winged beings carved out of marble stand guard over wide steps. At the top, blooming jasmine vines crawl up white columns and potted shrubbery decorates each side of the doorstep. The entrance is a massive wood planked door with golden hinges and a knocker shaped like the Stigian shield.

"Talk about over the top. This is just the palace entrance from the secret tunnels?" I ask.

My father shakes his head. "The LeFurs have always had a taste for unnecessary extravagance."

Micah straightens the lapel of his filthy red jacket and walks up the stairs. "There is nothing wrong with enjoying the finer things in life. Some of us just happen to walk on the side of gaudy." He pushes the door open, revealing a foyer with a huge chandelier and precisely placed pieces of wood lining the floor. They create an intricate design which must have taken months to lay.

The further we move into the castle, the more elaborate the architecture becomes—high archways, gold hand-carved wall trimmings, hand-painted ceilings with ethereal scenes, and endless spiraling staircases. Chandeliers adorn with crystals and candelabras designed to represent climbing vines speckled with blossoms. My neck aches from craning it back to take it all in.

"Her Majesty asked me to tell you that your room is how you left it upon your separation," the warrior says to Micah.

"I'm surprised my sister didn't turn it into a closet for her dirty laundry," the king mutters.

My father snickers. "A practice room for battle axe throwing with your image painted on the walls."

The warrior gives both men an unamused glare as we turn into a long corridor with doorways spaced meters upon meters apart. The rooms beyond them must be massive. Micah eases a door open and peeks his head around the frame. He releases a breath and his lips rattle together, and my father peers over his shoulder.

"It looks the same, Micah. I don't think the servants have even touched it."

The king walks inside and thumbs the dusty pages of a book left open on the table in the sitting room. The furniture is hand-carved in dark woods and covered in rich sapphire fabrics. It's a dwelling designed for a future king.

Micah glances around like he has entered the past, and his features take on a youthful appearance. I know how jarring it can be to return to a familiar place after changing into a new person. He was a prince who was sick of traditions which demeaned others, now he is the king of a free people.

"Princess Raelle, if you will follow me, I will show you to the room where your belongings are," the warrior says.

Both my father and Micah look up from the items they fiddle with, and Zek says, "Don't worry, I will be right outside her door."

The warrior leads me to one of the last doors, and I reach for the handle, coming up short.

"I'm going to summon a healer, otherwise it will leave a hideous scar, Your Grace," a small gray-haired man with bifocals says as he chases after the shirtless, stalking frame ahead of him.

"What is one more fucking scar?" Kyron mumbles, his gaze falling on me.

I freeze in place and shift under the weight of his stare.

"At least allow me to inspect the wound and sew it together."

Kyron holds up a hand, and the man, I assume to be a medic, clasps his mouth shut.

Zek steps between Kyron and me, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I see Micah has brought in a new lapdog to keep an eye on you."

"Someone has to watch over her, and we all know the Lucent army couldn't handle it." Zek eyes Kyron from head to toe. "An accidental lapse in His Majesty's judgment; he shouldn't have left the job of the Royal Guard to a backstabbing general with ulterior motives."

"You mean the same Royal Guard who she rode past not once but twice in defiance of the king's orders?" Kyron purses his lips and raises a brow. "At least I knew where she was at all times."

"Of course you did. What better way to keep track of your keep than to plunge your coc—"

I push Zek out of the way; my cheeks burning with anger and embarrassment. "I have nothing else to say to you, Kyron; I've said all I need to say."

"Good. I'm exhausted."

I stiffen at his words. Kyron can be hardheaded, but he has lost his mind if he thinks he's sleeping in the same room as me. Especially when there must be two hundred other rooms for him to choose from. And yet I can't deny the desire sparking to life within me.

"Relax, princess," he says, moving to the door across from mine. "I'm sleeping in my room...tonight."

"Every night," Zek counters.

"I'd let your future queen be the judge of that." Kyron walks into his room and looks back at me. "Goodnight, Raelle."

With a curt nod, I step inside my room and slam the door shut. I lean against the wall, the cool wood calming my heated body. Kyron has me a jumbled mess of emotions which contradict one another, and at the same time, they make perfect sense. I should attribute it all to the parah bond, but part of me knows my feelings for him run deeper than that. What I feel for him isn't just the result of a predestined match. And that is why the coming days inside this palace will be some of the most difficult I've ever had to face.