Page 26 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens (The Crimson Duet #1)

Unique Use of Swords

“ W hat in the Kingdom are you doing here?” The worry in Florence’s voice was unmistakable.

Francis made his way around the table, taking the empty seat by my side. His eyes never left mine.

Does he remember?

My mind was on fire. A navy blue blazer stopped just above the bite I’d left him. I returned my eyes back to my dessert, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

Anxiety creeped in, settling down in my chest. What was I thinking? I wanted to scream at myself. Fool. I must keep my distance.

“Francis?” Florence persisted.

“Yes?” He finally acknowledged her.

“Are you—” she frowned. “What are you doing here? You need rest.”

“I’ve rested plenty.” Francis took my glass without my permission.

“Besides—” he choked on my drink before he could finish.

I pretended not to notice his curious gaze on me, though I could not stop a slight smile of amusement from spreading across my face.

“I woke to the empty house and assumed you all would be here.” Francis took a more careful sip from my glass this time.

“Where is Caleb?” Roxanne’s brows furrowed.

“How would I know?” Francis shrugged, finally putting my drink down. “So—” He looked over our table. “Anything interesting happened while I was busy?”

“Everything tends to be rather peaceful when you’re not around,” Simon crooked his head.

The conversation carried on, yet I could not pay attention to any words being spoken. As if an invisible barrier separated me from the world, I looked at my companions through thick glass. Too aware of who sat beside me, my mind was unable to break free from the prison of my thoughts.

“Never took you for a moonshine lover, Princess,” a whisper broke through the wall around me.

“I shall get back to the castle. It has been a long night.” I smiled at the table, putting the silverware back on the table with more force than I intended.

“I will join you.” Francis got up from his chair, stretching out his hand to help me up.

“No need, I remember the way back.” I ignored his hand. “Thank you for the fudge,” I smiled at Simon, getting up. “And the drink.”

“Of—” Simon’s brows furrowed in confusion. It took him a second to collect himself before trying again. “Of course!”

The whole table stared, their eyes jumping from Francis' outstretched hand to my face.

Enjoying the spectacle he had created, Francis theatrically dropped his hands when he said, “Why, I might need help getting back.” The smirk did not leave his face. “It’s a pity you do not have your fancy sword with you. I really enjoyed that part.”

Was he mocking me for saving his life? How dared he!

I put a sweet smile on my face. “I am sure you meant to say thank you, Cordelia, for not leaving me in the middle of the forest to die , and also,” I crooked my head to the side, looking him straight in the eyes. “Who said I needed a sword?”

A wide grin slowly spread across his face as he bestowed me with an approving nod.

I wished to set him on fire.

“Good night, everyone.” I looked at the confused faces of my company.

Francis’ childish behavior would definitely make me act upon my wish one night. Not tonight though, tonight I turned around and stormed out of the tavern.

“What in the Kingdom was that about?” Roxanne’s hushed voice reached me right before I escaped the building. If only I knew. I wished to reply to her question, walking towards Annabelle.

“Wait up, Princess.”

A groan escaped me. I did not need to turn around to know that Francis was walking directly behind me.

“What do you need?” I said, looking straight ahead.

“Would you please slow down?” He chuckled. “It is quite hard to walk when your leg has been shot through. I was serious. Let me escort you back home.” He caught up to me, limping. “It is not safe for either of us to be alone in the woods: not after what happened.”

“Even if I say no, you will still follow after me, won’t you?” My brows flew up.

“Aye, I will.”

I shrugged, mounting my horse. “Then why even ask?”

“I am merely being nice, that is all.”

I rolled my eyes at his comment. “Clearly, we have different definitions of nice.”

The night had settled down in the ice that painted the forest light blue. The snowy ground crunched under the weight of hooves, waking up the creatures that called these woods home.

We’d almost made it all the way to the castle, when Francis broke our silence.

“How did you enjoy your night?” his voice echoed from behind me.

The narrow pathway was my only salvation on our trip back: I could not face Francis’ eyes were he to walk beside me.

“It was great before you showed up,” I muttered.

“Is that so?” A bright laugh reached my ears. “Am I truly that horrible to be around?”

“Could we get back in silence?” I sighed. “I am begging you.”

“You see,” Francis did not pay any attention to my pleas. “I thought we had a great time together. I even think there is a part of you that really enjoyed my company.”

I did not need to see his face to know he was smirking.

“Don't get ahead of yourself.” I let out a small laugh. “I only let you come for protection.” The words burned in my throat.

“And yet, you couldn’t resist the urge to feed me,” he said so easily, as though we were talking about the weather. Perhaps for him it was indeed so easy. “Saved my life even—”

“I pitied you,” I quickly interrupted. “It would be an embarrassment to die like that—even for you. I knew that death couldn't live up to your name.”

He laughed even harder now. “Pity, huh?”

“Precisely.” My heart galloped.

“Why, thank you,” Francis teased. “Was it at least nice?”

“Was what nice?” I asked, my brows furrowed.

“Me drinking your blood, of course,” he replied as though it was obvious. “Was it nice? I hope you enjoyed it.” His playful tone made my head turn his direction despite my wishes. “I’ve been told I am great at it,” he winked.

Blood rushed to my face, coloring my cheeks bright pink. “You are surrounded by liars,” I scoffed, turning away from him.

My eyes stared straight ahead; the bright blue moon smiled down at me. I asked the moon to clear my head of this nonsense, yet it seemed it enjoyed my reaction as much as Francis did.

“I beg to differ,” he whispered as though telling me a secret. “How come your face is bright red?”

“You think too highly of yourself,” I shook my head.

“I’ve been told that too, but, as you said, I am surrounded by liars.” The most genuine laugh I had ever heard from him reached me. “Thank you, Princess,” Francis added more seriously this time. “I will be forever grateful for your unique use of the sword.”

I glanced at him and spotted a soft smile on his face. The moon lit up his features. My eyes bored into the lips I’d kissed this morning.

“Seriously, though, wear a sword on you from now on.” He caught my gaze. “For protection—” He cleared his throat. “I mean, wear your sword on you for protection.”

“I don't exactly know how to wield it.” The truth slipped my lips before I could catch it.

“Of course,” he laughed once again.

I glared at him, the seriousness in my features cut his laughter short.

“You weren’t joking,” Francis’ brows flew high.

“My father used to teach me when I was a child.” I turned away from him. “I stopped practicing after his death.”

The silence in between us stretched out for what seemed to be an eternity. Only the moderate slow steps of our horses were heard in this night forest until Francis’ voice broke free.

“Well,” he cleared out his throat. “I suggest you resume your training. Especially if you wish to walk out of the castle alone.” Francis paused, before adding quietly.

“People go missing, Your Highness. It is not safe.” His voice cracked as he spoke.

“Each night becomes more dangerous than the night before. I suggest you not leave the castle by yourself at all.”

“I see I am a prisoner now.”

“Of course not, but perhaps walk in the company of someone you trust.”

“I do not trust a single soul here,” I shrugged, turning Annabelle off the pathway, toward the stables of his castle.

Something about Francis’ presence prevented me from being truthful. Of course there was a small part of me that trusted him, Florence, and even Roxanne—a small, almost nonexistent, part of me...

Yet I could not bring myself to say it out loud, could not let him know my vulnerabilities, my weaknesses. For it was certainly a weakness. My Royal upbringing had taught me that lesson a long while ago: everyone kept secrets and would use you for their own gain.

“Not even me?” Francis dismounted his horse.

“Especially not you,” I smiled, following his lead.

“Allow me to help, Your Highness.” Francis rushed toward me, his hand outstretched in a graceful gesture.

I rolled my eyes at him, yet still took the offer. Francis bestowed me with a smile, his eyes full of amusement.

So aware of his closeness, a shaky breath escaped me. His touch forced dozens of thorns to scratch the insides of my stomach, and despite my vow to keep my distance, my treasonous body enjoyed the long forgotten sensation.

My eyes met his, trying to find the hidden truth in them. What are you doing to me? I wanted to ask him.

His hand stretched out toward my face. How would his fingers feel on my cheek? My treasonous mind wondered. How would they feel on my lips? He gently moved a stray strand of hair behind my ear, sending panic piercing through my body.

Everything in my body stilled in fear.

Don’t you trust me, Cordelia? Timothy’s laugh was loud and clear in my mind. My long hair was in his firm grasp, forcing my face up.

“Princess?” Francis’ voice traveled through the fog in my mind, his whisper brushed my lips. Francis’ brows furrowed, pure worry written on his face.

Stop moving! He roared at me, freezing every bone in my body.

“Princess?” Francis’ voice pulled me out of the memory as I jumped out of his reach, storming out of the stables. “Are you well?” He rushed after me.

“Yes!” I put all of my energy into forcing my birthday ball out of my mind. “Just need some rest,” I offered over my shoulder.

Timothy is not here. I calmed my breathing, walking towards the castle. He cannot hurt me anymore. I ignored Francis’ worried stare on my back.

“I am all right,” I said more to myself than to him.

The sound of our steps occupied the heavy silence in between us. My eyes were locked on the castle before me, though I could not tend to my surroundings for a heavy fog invaded my vision: I was blinded by my own thoughts.

“What in the Kingdom—” Francis' voice echoed behind me.