Page 38 of Winds of Darkness

“Did you want the window shut, Princess?” Sion asked, and Ashtine turned to find her general standing a few paces away.

“Yes, please,” she answered, returning to her seat and letting Nasima hop to the back of her chair.

“Shall we discuss your concerns from earlier?” Renly asked as staff began setting plates of food before them.

“It seems rather pointless. They are the same concerns we’ve discussed prior,” she answered, studying her plate of food. She wasn’t hungry in the slightest.

“The winds still speak of a coming war?” Sion asked with a slight frown on his lips. “Do you feel we are unprepared if such a thing would happen?”

“I am not doubting your skills or your leadership, Sion.”

“But you still feel we are not adequately prepared,” he repeated, cutting into his meat. “We’ve increased our numbers, and we’ve been working on relations with the Witches.”

“I am aware of what precautionary steps we have taken,” she snapped, her hands flat on the table on either side of her plate.

A warning sound came from Nasima, and Ashtine knew if she looked, her feathers would be ruffled.

Blood will be shed.

A prince will fall.

The realm hangs in the balance.

A beginning or an ending? Time will tell.

The answers lie across the sea.

She didn’t want to think about the kingdom across the sea. The kingdom that had been a part of starting the Great War in the firstplace, then created wards to protect their land while leaving the rest of them to finish the war and suffer greatly for it.

Ashtine stood then, her chair scraping as it slid across the stone floor, and Nasima released an agitated sound. “I apologize,” she said, her voice sounding as defeated as she felt in the moment. “You all are correct. I am not feeling well, and I think I will retire early this night.”

“Princess—” Ermir started.

But he was cut off when she said, “Good night.”

She did not wait to hear their protests or their inquiries as to whether she needed a Healer.

Nasima flew to her shoulder as the dining room doors were pushed open for her, and she made her way back to her private rooms in the Citadel.

But she did not climb into her bed or curl up in a chair before the fireplace. Noelle was already waiting for her, a cloak in hand along with warmer shoes. Nasima trilled a small greeting, gliding to a bed post to wait for her return.

“Be safe, your Grace,” Noelle said with a bow of her head as Ashtine pulled the hood of the cloak up over her hair and stepped into the winds.

She would figure this out. It was her duty to her Court to protect them.

She was their princess after all.

Not Ashtine.

PrincessAshtine.

This was her burden to bear.

Chapter 3

Briar

“Dammit,” Briar muttered, realizing he’d left the tip of his quill on the parchment too long, a large blot of dark ink now marring the page.