A Wicked Game [The Crown Saga II] (Under Editing)

Shadow of a Feather

The room was cold, but the heat from the glowing lamp above our table kept my face warm while the blanket over my shoulders took care of the rest. The crisp air smelled like frostbitten grass—with an odd hint of smoke.

By this time of day, we usually sat in the dining hall, anticipating the arrival of a new hot meal at our tables. However, today—the last day before the new year—we'd been invited to the castle conservatory for our midday meal.

The view would have been wonderful if the sky hadn't been so gray and a mist hadn't poured ever so slowly down the hill of vast mountains miles away.

It had been a few days since the Rising Sun party, yet, for some reason, it was still the most interesting topic of conversation around the closest tables—including ours.

"I still can't believe Neith accidentally broke one of the guest's feet while dancing," Calla whispered, chuckling.

I sighed. They'd discussed that specific incident twice today already, and I didn't particularly care to participate again.

Instead, I kept my eyes locked on the vaguely misted world outside the glass panels shielding us from the frost-cloaked hinterlands ahead.

A forest of pine trees loomed at the foot of the smoking mountain, the mist snaking between the trees like serpents.

Between us and the mountains was an open field of snow-dusted grass and a few leafless trees scattered across its space. It bore a striking resemblance to the wastelands not far from my home.

Oh, how I missed home.

"Will?"

"What?" I jerked out of my daydream and found them both staring at me with a frown.

"You dozed off again, didn't you?" Calla asked, moving her blanket closer to her flustered face.

I had no great excuse, so I just shrugged and looked away.

"That's the sixth time today, Will," Piper said, putting her icy hand on top of mine. "What's going on?"

I sighed and pulled my hand back to escape her frozen grasp. "I'm just tired, I guess." I leaned back into the warm fur covering my chair, crossing my arms.

An utter lie.

We had hardly done anything but unwind since the Rising Sun. There had been no mandatory courses, training exercises, or sessions with Art. There had been nothing to keep my unraveling mind occupied, so I had been wallowing in self-pity and sabotaging my mood more and more each day.

Faye was still avoiding me, and I was at a loss for new ways to approach her.

I constantly worried about my family and whether they had enough food to survive this unusually harsh winter, with the debt eating away at their compensation.

I'd cried every night in my lonely room, leaving a headache pounding behind my eyes during the day.

"Are you sure that's all?" Calla added. The skin across her knuckles stretched until white as she clutched the blanket's edge tighter in her fist.

"Yeah," I said, forcing a nervous smile without meeting her eyes as guilt nibbled on my nape.

My family and Faye weren't the only complications troubling me. My crappy, selfish heart had yet failed to break out of its cage.

It wasn't fair to any of them—not after what they'd been through to get here.

"It's nice out here, but I just want to get through this meal so I can head to the Battle Arena and practice my routine."