Page 43 of Faeling (Monstrous World #4)

They parted ways with Oberon and his charges on the eastern shores of Lake Lovath. Ravenna bid them farewell with promises to visit soon and tell Callistix all about her adventures, as well as bring Vallek to formally meet her and the herd.

Ravenna tried not to snicker at the look of concern on Vallek’s face when she informed him.

“Aren’t mares known for being even more vicious?”

“Yes, and for good reason. Callistix has led the herd for centuries. You two will get along royally.”

She chuckled at her own joke despite his pout. Ravenna took his hand and squeezed in recompense.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let them bully you. Much.”

“This is revenge for my sisters, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a little.”

They shared a laugh this time, and Ravenna found herself looking forward to being with Eydis and Asta again. She’d actually missed them—just a little—on this journey, and they weren’t a small part of why, when the spires of the city rose from the horizon, a few of the knots in her stomach loosened.

The remaining march back to Balmirra had been far less eventful—and far more pleasant with her getting to ride Oberon most days.

Her magic did its work, healing her battered body so that only the most stubborn bruises and cuts were still visible.

Her ribs and wing still ached, but she could at least fold her wings against her back again for longer and longer periods.

Twitch the onager didn’t seem to miss her, while Oberon enjoyed making a show of whenever she mounted or dismounted.

He’d also come to relish racing Vallek. On straightaways and in mountain meadows, her mate and Oberon raced the wind—and each other.

An odd sort of friendship bloomed within the competition, one which she would’ve found endearing had she not had to serve as an intermediary between them, with herself as a common topic.

Over the last six days of travel, the party of orcs had quickly grown accustomed to her now staying beside the king, wearing her true face. While not all were happy about the new arrangement, they appeared to begrudgingly accept it.

That was good enough. At least for now.

It was strange. Whenever she noticed a lingering wary gaze, a new determination grew inside her. It took a few days to describe it to herself, but eventually Ravenna found that she…wanted their approval. She cared what these orcs, those closest and most loyal to Vallek, thought of her.

The sensation was a new one. Isolated in the seaside cottage with her mother, there were never many people she had to impress.

By the time she was an adolescent, they’d stopped visiting Aine’s remaining family, and she hadn’t seen Maxim’s Illyinia kin since she was small.

Once in a while, they traveled to the nearby fishing village, Ravenna disguising herself with glamour to appear as Aine’s full-human daughter.

The fishermen and their families were hearty, no-nonsense people who rarely thought about the recluse and her strange daughter.

Now, though, she wanted to make a good impression. More than that, she wanted their respect—not just as the king’s mate but as Ravenna. It wouldn’t happen immediately, of course, and she intended to earn that respect. Yet the realization that she wanted to endeavor at all still surprised her.

As the barges ferrying them across Lake Lovath neared Balmirra, the port walls extending into the crystalline water spread wide in welcome, Ravenna once again slipped the glamour over her face.

She and Vallek had agreed that until an official announcement was prepared, she would maintain her kone disguise outside of his quarters in the citadel.

Those in the party had been told last night to keep their silence until the announcement was made.

The thought of the announcement had another nervous knot in her gut pulling tight. She didn’t know what form the announcement would take, nor how it would be received, and the unknown left her feeling more unsteady than she did on the lake waters.

Vallek had made plenty of assurances, but there was only so much he could truly promise. Still, his confidence didn’t waver, and so neither did Ravenna.

The king’s return to Balmirra was met with the usual enthusiastic fanfare.

The barges pulled up to the dock to the roaring applause of hundreds.

Orcs lined the streets and leaned out windows to get a look at their triumphant king.

As their party disembarked and began the climb up to the citadel, criers were sent ahead, announcing the news that the eastern tribes had pledged fealty to Vallek Far-Sight.

On one of the switchback turns of the main promenade, Ravenna spied down from her place near the front of the column to see the group of eastern tribesmen, kept in the center of the party and bracketed by berserkers three deep.

To a one, their heads turned like an owl’s, their eyes just as wide as they gaped at the majesty of Balmirra.

What an experience it must have been, to go from the small encampments in the eastern foothills to the splendor of this ancient stronghold. She could sympathize.

The climb up to the citadel, marching in procession as they were, took the better part of two hours. Ravenna was determined to do it unaided, just like everyone else, even though her thighs were positively burning by the time the citadel’s curtain wall rose around them. Thank fates.

More than a little sweaty under the cowl of her cloak—which Mattias had kept safe for her after Ulrich ripped it off—Ravenna hid beneath its shadow.

As the party spilled into the courtyard, finding relief in the shadow of the citadel as they greeted friends and kin, she slipped to the front of the column.

She watched with no small amount of pride as Vallek ascended the stairs of the basilica, turning on the top step to face the party.

Pulling Hormhím from his belt, he lifted it high above his head to another bout of applause and whoops.

Berserkers beat their breastplates and staff stomped their feet in a loud show of support.

“My people! We return united!”

Cheers echoed through the courtyard, surely down into the city below.

“This day is yours. So is my gratitude. You have helped forge this kingdom, your kingdom. To peace!”

“To peace!” they cried.

“Rest, celebrate, and know that the histories will always remember your strength.”

The courtyard burst with applause and good will. Eventually, the neat column broke up into smaller groups, warriors seeking their barracks, others returning home, some staff heading up into the citadel, and others leading the eastern tribesmen into the basilica.

A touch on her shoulder had Ravenna turning to behold Asta, beaming down at her.

“Welcome home, tristah! ”

Despite the glamour, Asta threw her muscled arms around Ravenna in a crushing embrace.

“Hello, Asta,” she wheezed.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes. It’s been so boring with both you and breddah gone.”

Ravenna snorted a laugh. Yes, they had been well into their own melodrama when they left for the east.

After finally releasing her, Asta took Ravenna by the shoulder to lead away. “C’mon, let’s get you off those weary feet.”

Once they were safely inside the cool walls of the citadel, deep within Vallek’s private wing, Ravenna let the glamour fall.

Asta hissed through her tusks to see the fading bruises. “All-Mother, what a prick. Honestly, it’s about time Vallek dealt with that bastard.”

Ravenna only nodded diplomatically, not quite wanting to admit that although the sight of Ulrich’s smashed body would haunt her, she wasn’t at all sorry about it. She doubted most orcesses would bat an eye at their mate cleaving a head in two for them, though.

They entered the king’s quarters to find Brynhíl awaiting them. The older orcess smiled fondly, hurrying to take Ravenna by the shoulders for inspection. She tutted over the almost-healed bruises and scrapes.

Gaze flicking over Ravenna’s head, Bryn scolded, “You were meant to take care of her.”

Ravenna looked over her shoulder to see Vallek walking through the threshold, Eydis and Hilde close behind.

Rather than a quip or imperious promise in answer, Vallek’s face fell with shame. “I know. It won’t happen again.”

“I hope you killed whoever did this.”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.” Patting Ravenna’s unhurt cheek, Bryn said, “Now, tell me all about why it looks like you broke a fall with your face.”

After changing out of their dusty clothes, Ravenna and Vallek recounted the tale as crates of his things were brought back and unpacked. A light meal of breads, cheeses, salted meat, and grapes and apricots was brought up from the kitchens, the six of them gathering in the comfortable den to talk.

“We’ll need to have the announcement soon. Three days at the maximum,” said Eydis as she contemplated an apricot. “I have the utmost faith that your people will try to keep it quiet. However, back from an exciting journey, some won’t be able to resist spreading news.”

“It needs to be formal, official,” said Vallek. “The whole Balmirran court and all the representatives gathered to hear.”

“We have to expect dissent—possibly from the other chieftains,” said Eydis.

“The whole garrison can be deployed throughout the city to manage any riots,” added Asta.

The fruit and cheese already in Ravenna’s stomach churned ominously. She didn’t think her unease showed on her face, but when she met Hilde’s gaze, the orcess leaned forward, clapping her hands together.

“Yes, yes, but most importantly, the gown .” Pointing at Ravenna, she waggled her brows as she said, “You’re mine for a few days, my queen.”

“That sounds ominous,” Ravenna teased, but she was grateful for the distraction.

Hilde waved her hand in an unconcerned gesture. “The gown will be the single most important statement you can make. You’ll enter the basilica—first they’ll see a fae, and then the gown.”

“ Your gown,” Eydis teased.