Page 1 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens (The Crimson Duet #1)
Nocturnal Animal
C rimson bouquets surrounded my presence, overwhelming my senses on this sorrowful day. Celebrating seemed foolish, if you would’ve asked me, but no one valued my judgment. Perhaps they didn’t lose as much as I did: didn't experience the suffering and grief.
Today was not a celebration day, it was a memorial. At least it was for me.
Seven years should have been enough time to overcome my distress—my disgust—for today’s festivity, yet I was still all the same.
Disgusted. No matter my feelings, I must play by the rules of our twisted ways.
Putting differences aside, I would be a good daughter, a good princess. That was what I’d promised.
“I suppose I needn't remind you to behave?” A familiar voice came from behind me, making the air in the room grow colder as though the winter herself walked through the front door and settled down near my heart.
Masking my discomfort, I slowly turned to face the woman standing in the threshold of my bedchamber.
The woman looked like me, yet foreign all the same.
Her long face, fair skin, and dark hair were all I saw when looking in the mirror; though her features felt sharper, as if even her appearance had to announce the importance of her presence. “Your Majesty,” I bowed.
“I expect your punctuality, Cordelia.” The Queen exclaimed, turning on one heel towards the door without sparing me a glance.
If it hadn’t been for the restless night I’d had, I would have laughed at the absurdity of this situation. My mother came here to remind me to behave as though I was a child that knew no manners. Ridiculous.
I shook my head in disbelief as I took my seat at the dressing table, preparing for the most uncomfortable evening awaiting.
Mories’ studying eyes bored into my skin, yet I ignored it altogether. I did not need her pity. Not today.
Her fingers brushed over the ends of my old braid. “Would you like your hair down for the celeb—”
“No.” My heart dropped just at the idea of it. Mories sent me a nod of understanding, reminding me of the horrors I had endured.
No matter Mories’ soft touches, the moment my hair fell down my shoulders my muscles tensed, as though my hair grew thorns that punctured my flesh. I fidgeted and shivered, though it did not seem to bother Mories: she kept quiet.
Her dull eyes were full of exhaustion, or maybe it was just her age that made everything about her look weary. Her wrinkled and scarred skin revealed a long life of battle and hard work.
“Thank you,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.
In complete silence Mories skillfully worked through my long raven hair while I stared at my reflection in the mirror: something I’d tried to avoid doing at all cost in the past month.
My red dress revealed my shoulders, stopping right above the scar that marked my heart. I stared and stared, not recognizing the person I saw: as though in a dream, when meeting a stranger you’d known your whole life.
“You look lovely, dear.” Mories tucked the stem of a bright red flower into my braid.
A small smile of reassurance tugged on my lips despite the anxiety and anger deep in my stomach that threatened to sabotage all the promises I’d made.
“It is time,” she whispered, squeezing my shoulders. “Everything will be well.”
I nodded, heading towards the door, leaving my last moment of peacefulness behind.
My heart banged against my rib cage with every step I took. My stomach turned upside down the closer I got to the reason for my restless sleep.
The ballroom doors at the end of the hall entered my vision moments later. Red flowers made the door look as though it was covered in blood. I supposed that was the intention.
The guards stood at their designated spots adjacent to the entrance, ignoring two small figures leaning on the wooden door.
“It is my turn, Frederick!” Eleanor tugged on her brother’s tunic when I reached the door. “Let me see!”
“You two should not be here and you know it.” My voice froze my young siblings in place.
“But we want to dance too!” my little sister whined. “Please convince Mother to let us attend.”
“Come now, we both know I cannot do that; besides, these balls look far more fun than they truly are.” A small smile spread across my face as my fingers brushed along Eleanor’s blonde hair. “I’d much rather stay out here with you.” I let out a small chuckle, acutely aware of the truth in my words.
“We just want to dance.” Frederick sighed.
“Please, Cordelia!” they whined in unison.
“Take them back to their rooms before they find trouble.” I whispered to one of the guards before returning my gaze back to my siblings. “I promise we will dance all day tomorrow if you go back to your rooms right this moment.”
“You swear?” Frederick narrowed his eyes on me.
“I swear to the Moon.” I said, ushering them towards the guard.
My words seemed to convince my brother and sister as they took the guard’s hands, dancing down the hall.
Soon enough they would have to learn manners and enter a very boring—proper—Royal life. Just like me and Sandra. A life full of expectations. A life that took your freedom away.
My eyes traveled back towards the ballroom as I waited for my announcement.
The red doors opened before I had a chance to prepare myself; although I was unsure I would ever be ready to face the nightmares that had been haunting me the last month.
The ballroom’s stone walls were fully decorated as well. Red flowers represented the blood of our enemies after a deadly battle: celebrating the day our kingdom became free of vampires. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity.
Candles rested on every single table, illuminating the faces of those gathered. All eyes were on me.
My chin rose high as I put on a mask of indifference. The mask I was required to wear when in public as the first in line to the throne. The mask I hated so much for stealing my identity. The mask that couldn't protect me from the horrors of gruesome people.
I had to play a role I did not choose, but on which my reputation and the reputation of our entire family depended. For the good of the family as Mother would say.
I put my trembling hands behind my back and headed for the Royal table.
Mother sighed with relief, clearly worried I wouldn't come—as though I actually had a choice. I bowed, greeting the Queen just like etiquette required; my sister sat to her right. Sandra offered me one of her happy smiles unaware of what the night had in store.
I waited for Mother’s dismissal before taking a seat beside my sister who wouldn’t stop grinning. The hairpin I gifted Sandra for her eighteenth birthday decorated her golden waves. Her hair and deep green eyes reminded me so much of Father.
“I heard the Barrens were coming,” she whispered to me. “Perhaps Timothy will ask you to dance.”
“Perhaps he will,” I replied with more disgust than I intended to show and I scolded myself for not playing my role well already. “Maybe someone will ask you for a dance.” I pinched her side.
“Maybe.” She grinned, scanning the ballroom.
Using Sandra’s distraction, I glanced around before my hands stretched out towards the meat. Covering it with a napkin, I hid it in my sleeve.
“There!” Sandra whispered to me, making me jump in my seat; though she didn’t seem to notice my reaction nor did she notice the food I’d stolen. Sandra carefully pointed at a man in red attire. “Hm... He might be a noble from the North, came here to find a bride!” she fantasized. “Me, perhaps.”
“Sandra,” I laughed, “he is too old and not nearly as handsome.” Sometimes it seemed Sandra just wanted to leave no matter the groom. I couldn’t say I judged her for it, but Moon forbid she’d end up like me.
How could I ensure her future husband would treat her right? How could I trust another soul to keep my Sandra safe?
“What about that one?” Sandra crooked her head, peeking from behind me. I attempted to turn in that direction, but she quickly stopped me. “Cordelia!” Sandra hissed at me. “You will give us away!” Her adorable reaction made me crack a smile—a genuine one—at her terrified face.
“I will be careful.” I promised my sister, turning towards the two men engaged in—what seemed to be—a serious conversation.
“The one on the left,” Sandra whispered into my ear.
The man she chose was handsome indeed, yet my gaze traveled past him.
In the corner of the ballroom stood a man in a black and gold vest. Odd , I thought to myself. Today’s dress code was red only. At the end of the day we were celebrating the end of the Crimson War. Him dressing like this was at the very least disrespectful.
I studied the man, trying to figure out who he was. Of course I couldn’t remember every single member of the court, but him I had never seen—that I knew for a fact.
The stranger held wine in one hand and a pipe in the other. He didn’t seem to care about his appearance whatsoever. Arrogant, indeed.
The man looked young, in his twenties perhaps. He had dark brown hair that fell on his face in a perfect mess. His curls barely touched his shoulders. His sharp features contrasted with his smooth bronze skin.
“Well, what do you think?” Sandra leaned in.
“Arrogant.”
The stranger smirked. Our gazes locked as he sent me a curt nod.
I’d been openly staring at the man this whole time.
Straightening my back, I tried to mask my embarrassment. How unroyal of me: I’d been scolding a stranger for his outfit when I myself had forgotten any manners. I couldn’t just stare at strangers. People would talk.
“Cordelia?” Sandra nudged my shoulder; judging by the tone in her voice, she’d been calling my name for a while.
“He’s fine,” I finally spoke not even remembering who she had pointed at.
How dared he smirk at me? The audacity behind such a gesture! The arrogance! Was he mocking me? I’m sure he was; that smirk on his face was full of pure amusement.
“Timothy is here,” Sandra whispered.