Page 2 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens (The Crimson Duet #1)

My lungs expanded in an attempt to calm my unresting mind. I will not show fear. I told myself, hoping I would act on this promise. Yet it was anger that consumed me.

Don’t do anything foolish, Cordelia.

“My lady.” Timothy tried to reach for my hand; a disgusting smile decorated his face.

A Royal should never put anyone down. I ignored the screaming voice as I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“It is Your Highness. ’’ I raised my chin despite the trembling in my body.

“You shall respect my status, Lord Barren.” I put emphasis on the last two words in a clear reminder of his own: the only way to truly hurt Timothy was to remind him I was the one with the power here—even if it was not true.

I’d told Mother I would behave for the sake of the family, yet Timothy’s presence made it impossible to commit to such a promise. The memory of the pain he’d caused overpowered any common sense. My spilled tears demanded revenge.

A low murmur went around me, though my eyes didn’t leave Timothy’s. He was visibly struggling to maintain his features. Perhaps I just worsened my already deplorable situation.

My stomach turned upside down at the idea of what awaited me when we were forced alone, but it was too late.

Timothy nodded once and took his leave without apologizing—not that I’d expected him to.

My lips trembled as I turned to face the disaster I was the creator of. The Queen involved herself in the conversation with some nobles when her withering gaze swept over me. Sandra squeezed my hand tight.

No one had asked me for a dance that night.

“I will take my leave now.” I aligned my silverware neatly before getting up from the table.

“Mother will notice.” Sandra caught my sleeve.

“Please,” my voice was barely a whisper.

Her lips turned into a thin line. “Fine.” She sighed, “I will come up with an excuse.” Sandra let go of my dress. “You owe me!” She gestured me towards the door.

“Thank you.” I quickly smiled at her, fleeing out.

My trembling legs stumbled towards the garden before I even realized. I clung to every breath as though it was my last.

Royals are collected. Royals know how to control their emotions. You are to be a queen—act like it. My mothers’s voice echoed in my mind as I threw myself past the arc of the palace, hoping for privacy.

Privacy? I almost laughed at myself. I had always been short on privacy, but after my oldest brother’s death made me first in line, privacy became nonexistent.

I slid down a cherry tree that often served as my refuge from prying eyes when the orchestra of nature finally eased my mind. The cold air enveloped me in its embrace; the owls and ravens sang me their lullaby.

A pair of golden eyes studied me from the darkness.

“Hello, friend.” I whispered, unwrapping the meat I’d stolen. “I brought you dinner.”

The gray cat took a careful step forward, assessing his surroundings.

For a while, we sat behind the cherry tree enveloped in the darkness of this cold night. Silver—what I’d named the cat when we first met—settled in my lap after he quickly devoured his dinner.

The trees dropped their beautiful red and orange dresses, letting the wind carry them away, abandoning them before my feet. I picked up a leaf from the ground, studying its fire-like colors.

How could something so glorious exist in such a dark place?

My mind wandered, listening carefully to the tale of the garden—

“What do you savages want from me?” a painfully familiar voice grumbled.

Gods, no! Someone is here. I scrambled to my feet, preparing to face whoever decided that a walk in the garden was a good idea at midnight.

The voices seemed to stop just a few feet away from me, behind the arc of the garden.

Please leave! I begged my intruders, yet they didn't follow my request. Apparently, whoever it was preferred my garden to the foolish ball in the palace and I could not even blame them.

Dozens of needles prickled my skin when the stranger's voice came in reply. His voice was as soft as velvet and as sharp as briar.

I could barely make out the conversation, as though my intruders spoke a different language. That would be impossible: there were only three languages used in our Kingdom, and I knew all of them to perfection—thanks to my tutors. Perhaps, I was too far.

I peeked out from behind the tree to see who was wandering this late at night. Despite the darkness, the gold patterns of the vest shone bright under the moonlight.

My heart threatened to leave my chest as my head flew back from their view. It was the same arrogant man from the ball, and he was not alone.

Their hushed voices filled me with an odd feeling of paranoia I couldn’t make sense of.

Mother wouldn’t allow me into the council meetings anymore, but I was no fool. I knew people had gone missing in the last month; I knew about the Vanishing List she kept.

I needed to get closer, I needed to know why the Royal garden—my garden—was the place they chose to meet in the dead of night.

Careful not to disturb the dry leaves underneath my steps, I took a step forward: just close enough to see their faces without abandoning the sanctuary of my tree. They both—the arrogant man and a woman I’d never seen before—seemed on edge. The frustration in his eyes shone bright.

His eyes... I’d never seen such abnormality in nature. His amber eyes reflected the moon light in this darkness like a nocturnal animal. My eyes traveled past him.

The woman by his side was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Her youthful eyes were not quite right either: light brown and glowing just like his.

Her copper hair shimmered in different shades of red; she—just like the man—neglected the dress code: her dark blue gown looked as though she’d walked out from the depths of the ocean.

“Roxanne.” The man snapped at the ocean woman. His hand touched hers in a kind of comfort I could not quite understand. “You’re making a mistake not believing our words.” He faced the dark silhouette: the figure wore a hood that completely covered their face.

I’d never heard such an accent before. The accent was quite beautiful: harsh but gentle all the same.

The words flew in charming waves, as though they were delicate touches of piano and violin.

The sound brought satisfaction to my ears, and I consumed every word with joy, despite my inability to fully understand them.

Focus! I chided myself for such an easy distraction.

The arrogant man spoke again. He talked so fast and quiet I could only catch a few words out of everything he’d said. Army, attacks, winter.

Army? My brows furrowed. Attacks? I shook my head, waiting for more when the mysterious silhouette’s voice reached my ears once again. “That won’t be necessary.” they bit out.

Where have I heard this voice before?

“Then we have nothing to talk about.” Roxanne drew out every word. Her tone left no room for an argument. She shared the accent of the arrogant man, though hers was softer.

The mysterious figure just hummed in reply, heading back towards the palace.

The strangers waited for a few moments before speaking: just staring at each other, as though they needn’t words to communicate. “You should go, Rox.” The arrogant man broke their silence.

The ocean woman looked as though she was about to protest, glaring at the man. After a long pause Roxanne shrugged—apparently she’d lost their silent argument—before turning to leave.

“Don’t forget your manners, Francis.” The woman called over her shoulder. “She is a royal.” Roxanne smiled as she disappeared into the darkness.