Page 15 of Realm of Crows (Wings of Ink #5)

Twelve

Ayna

It’s past noon by the time I return to the palace, drenched in sweat, my feet heavy and my heart a lump of guilt residing in my chest. I drag myself past the tall columns along the hallways made of glimmering stone, glancing left and right at the portraits of fairies staring at me from beautiful, timeless faces.

If I ever have a palace to call my own, I won’t hang any paintings like these.

What I’ll put on the walls are images that represent the history of pain and loss the Crows had to suffer—and the hope for a brighter future that this court carries within.

I won’t care for portraits but for colors and expressions of the emotions that got the Crows cursed to begin with and saved them in the end .

Unless my residence would be in Tavras. Then, I’ll inherit a palace stuffed with portraits of Erina’s ancestors. At least, I’ll know what to use to kindle a fire in the winter.

Nodding to the guards stationed at every other turn, I make it to the guest suite, where I head right for the bathing room.

There, I strip out of my training leathers, careful not to push on the bruises blooming on my shoulder and ribs where Royad caught me.

It would be easy to heal them, but they serve as a reminder of what I almost did to him.

Swallowing the new onslaught of guilt, I climb into the bathtub, turn on the hot water, and sit there until liquid warmth envelops me.

For a long hour, I don’t move, just soaking in the lavender-scented heat, my mind circling and circling around what happened.

I didn’t kill him. It’s the only comfort I have as I stare at the fir-and-cream tiles, focusing on my breathing. I didn’t kill Royad. I didn’t.

No one commented in the arena, Royad’s reaction apparently enough to make the incident seem harmless, when actually I completely lost control of myself. I lost myself for a moment, so consumed by my anger and helplessness that I attacked one of the best people I know in this world.

By the time a knock sounds on the door, the water has gone lukewarm. “Can I come in?”

It’s not Myron like I expected—the sorrowful expression on his face when I left the arena is something I never want to see again—but Clio .

I send out my Crow power, slinging it around the brass doorknob and tugging the door open.

The fairy princess appears on the threshold, freshly clothed in brown leather pants and a tunic that matches the auburn of Tori’s hair and eyes.

Her copper hair is pulled into a bun at the top of her head, rouge strands sticking out of it in all directions.

It’s a good look on her, but the concern in her eyes gives me pause.

“What can I do for you?”

She answers with a small smile, sauntering into the bathing room and sitting on the floor, back against the side of the bathtub. “I’m tired of sparring.”

“And you thought here would be a good place to hide from the fairy general’s orders?” It’s a wild guess, but Tori is the one to oversee the fairies’ training.

“No, I don’t need to hide from Tori in order to defy his orders. I’ve done that all my life in plain sight.” A chuckle of pure amusement bubbles out of her. “Even though that could give the other soldiers ideas to do the same.”

“I doubt anyone else is brave enough to defy Tori.” I rest my head against the rim of the tub. “Besides, is he even allowed to order you around? You’re a princess and certainly outrank him in this court.”

Clio gives me a sideways glance, pretending to consider. “I outrank him, yes, but since I chose to fight in the Askarean army, he is my general, and in theory, I am obliged to follow his orders.”

“In theory,” I repeat, and we both grin. “But you’re also mated. How does that work? Do orders ever get in the way of your relationship? ”

“Why do you think I don’t follow all of them?

” It’s such a Clio thing to say I can’t help but laugh.

“Besides, when push comes to shove, I can order him as his princess not to order me around.” Her tone is so dry I almost take her seriously, but I know her better than that by now.

Clio might have an impenetrable facade of swagger, but a wealth of emotions lives inside her chest. “He doesn’t follow any of my orders either, by the way,” she amends with a chuckle.

I count the golden lines painted on the edge of the ceiling, pondering her words.

It must be difficult being so close and standing in different hierarchies with each other.

Different from what Myron and I have because we are equals.

Both rulers of the Crow Court, even if I haven’t had a chance to actually rule.

He’s made it abundantly clear he’ll stand by my choices—the same way I’ll stand by his.

“Here—” Clio reaches for one of the flasks on the shelf at the end of the tub, right beside the green-velvet-cushioned chair in the corner that Myron and I have made so much history on, and holds it up. “Dunk your head.”

I do as I’m told. When I come up again, she pours some of the floral-scented soap into her hand and foams it up. “May I?” She gestures at my head.

I nod, and she starts rubbing the soap into my hair, massaging my scalp while she speaks.

“When I returned from the Crow court a century ago, I couldn’t sleep at night.

I told myself it would pass, and Tori’s presence certainly eased the nightmares.

He spent his nights keeping watch by my side and his days preparing our troops for the war. ”

I’d never heard her talk in detail about what happened to her, and I’m doing my best not to show my surprise.

“The Crow War?” I whisper, barely daring to interrupt.

Clio nods. “The nightmares faded after some time, but I couldn’t rid myself of the sense of helplessness.

What had been done to me wasn’t remotely as cruel as what you have endured at both Ephegos’s and Erina’s hands, but it was enough to make me question if I would ever be the same.

So I threw all my energy into helping my brother in every way I could.

Anything to distract myself, anything to prove to myself that I was more than the female they locked up in a cell.

” She pauses both her movements and her words as if considering how much she should share.

“And for a while, I convinced myself I was fine. The war passed, but things didn’t go back to normal. ”

She stops scrubbing, and I lower my head into the water to rinse the suds from my hair.

“Why are you telling me this now?” I ask when I come up again.

Clio brushes back a strand of copper hair from her forehead, resting her elbow on the rim of the tub and staring into my eyes with that fierceness that will bring her enemies to their knees.

“Because I’ve been through what you’re going through.

I’ve almost lost myself to the memories of my captivity. ”

My stomach sinks, but she smiles at me.

“It’s all right to take out the anger in sparring. It’s all right to fight your demons.”

It’s impossible to return her smile when all I can think of is the moment I realized I was about to cut off Royad’s head. “You didn’t almost kill someone because of it.” My voice is so quiet it’s swallowed by the humid air, but Clio hears me anyway.

“I did.” Old shame lingers in her words, an emotion she probably never shows anyone.

I hold my breath, the water sloshing around my neck as I turn so still it breaks around my body. “Who?”

Moisture lines her eyes as she admits, “Tori. Except I didn’t stop my sword the way you did.”

I suck in a breath.

“He knew exactly what he was doing when he challenged me for a sparring fight, and he cheered me on not to hold back, mocked me even for not hitting as hard as he knew I could. Everything he said was to drive me into the rage that had been simmering beneath the surface since the day I was saved from the Crows. Saved. I couldn’t even find a way out the way you did with your smart bargain.

I had been promised to Carius the Cruel in a bargain my father made with the Crow King, and there was nothing I could do.

“Tori spoke to all those emotions. The helplessness, the hopelessness, the anger with my father, the fear, the rage. Every attack I made was one on Carius and the Crow guards who beat me half to death. An attack on my weak-fucking-self. And when I finally landed a blow, it went straight through Tori’s chest.” A bitter laugh rolls off her tongue.

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything at all, waiting for her to continue. Praying that she will.

A tear slips from the corner of her eye. “I stabbed my mate, Ayna. I stabbed him, not with a dulled training sword but with a sharp one. I could have killed him. ”

It’s as much a confession as it is an explanation of why she came to see me.

“He survived.”

“He did.” She nods, and a sad smile spreads on her face. “I site-hopped him to the healers immediately, not trusting myself with healing him after what happened. What if my powers decided to go out of control the way my blade had?”

I try to give her a small smile, but pain is all that fills me. Pain for what happened to her and how it scarred her.

“I apologized to him a million times. Despite his dismissals, I begged him for forgiveness. The healers patched him up, and after a few days of rest, he was back to normal. All that’s left is a tiny scar beneath his left pectoral.

” She wipes away another tear threatening to fall from her lashes.

“Tori knew what he was doing. He wanted me to work through my trauma with someone I trusted rather than having it eat me up from inside. He said as much when I wouldn’t stop apologizing.

” She turns back to the door, resting the back of her head on the rim of the bathtub, and closes her eyes.

“He never mentioned it again, but I haven’t lived a day since, not regretting what I did—and not a day being grateful for what he did for me. ”

A long silence fills the bathroom as we both fall into our own thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all that I can think to say, but Clio shakes her head.

“You weren’t even born when all of that happened.

” A slight swagger rises back in her voice.

“Be grateful you have people in your court who look out for you. Royad knew what he was doing. The next time you see him, you shouldn’t try to apologize again.

” She manages a real smile. “You should thank him.”