He’d been Tiras for three days. Not Tiras the bird. Tiras the man. Whole. Present. And I hadn’t known.
“There is much to do,” he said flatly, though his eyes narrowed in warning, as if he thought I might start mentally pulling books from the library shelves and winging them at his head. The king’s advisors cleared their throats as if they’d suddenly realized there was a bit of a silent showdown underway.
I swallowed, keeping my words in my chest so they wouldn’t flood my head and become angry spells, but they slithered and snapped, and I stood, unable to trust myself to contain them.
The king’s advisors shot to their feet, parchment and scrolls falling to the floor. I acknowledged them, just a stiff jerk of my head, and moved swiftly toward the door.
“Lark,” Tiras called after me. I ignored him.
I donned my cloak and set out at a steady pace, making my way up the hill that led to the cathedral and beyond to the cliffs that guarded Jeru City. I didn’t wait for an escort. I was not a prisoner anymore. I was partially hidden beneath the large cowl of my cloak, and if anyone noticed me, they kept their distance. I kept my eyes on my feet until I reached the bell tower atop the church then stopped to catch my breath, peering up at it and waiting for the knell of the hour, signaling all was well as the sun sank beyond the horizon.
The air was cold, and the bite against my cheeks matched the raw scrape of my breath. I’d noticed that when I walked briskly, my belly tightened as if to draw my child to me, to brace against the physical demands I was making on myself. It wasn’t unpleasant or painful. But it made me aware. It demanded I pay attention and not ignore the life growing in me, early as it still was. Tiras had the same effect on my heart. It tightened whenever he was away, demanding I remember, that I think about him, that I wait.
Wait for him, the old Teller had said. Her words had been prophetic. I was always waiting.
I felt Shindoh, heard his excitement, his eager happiness at having his master on his back and fresh air in his lungs. I even knew the moment he sensed me and quickened his step toward me. But I didn’t turn to greet him.
“Lark,” Tiras called, the words he exuded very different from his faithful horse. Stubborn and woman were the most prominent ones. I stopped walking and turned on him, not even waiting for him to get abreast of me before I responded to his not-so-private opinion.
I may be a stubborn woman, but you are an insensitive ass.
“And you are the queen. You must think like one. You must act like one. You must do your duty even when you are angry with me.”
You chose me, remember? Me. Lark of Corvyn. I am not a Changer. I cannot transform into a queen.
He ground his teeth. “And where is your guard? You must have a guard when you leave the castle!”
I have no need of a guard. You are just like my father. I will not be a prisoner.
“You also have to stop wandering around at night, Lark. It isn’t safe. Especially when I am not here.”
I turned away and began to walk, frustrated by his imperiousness. With a snarl and a spur of his horse, he was on me, swooping me up with one arm and placing me in front of him on Shindoh, exactly as he had done a lifetime ago.
His fingers spread on my lower belly, testing the way it swelled against his palm. I tossed my head, my hood sliding down my back, and his lips found my ear as if he couldn’t decide whether to nuzzle my neck or berate me. He did both, running his rough cheek against my jaw and along my throat before he spoke again.
“You aren’t invisible. I know you think you are. But someone could harm you.” His tone was hushed but harsh. “Why do you do that?”
What? Get angry when you return and avoid me?
He was motionless, contemplating, and I waited for him to answer.
“No,” he finally whispered, and I felt his remorse drip from the word. I stared blindly ahead, refusing to blink so the angry tears would not fall.
“No, not that. Why do you walk in the forest at night, all by yourself? I see you, even as an eagle. I watch you. And I am afraid for you.” His voice was suddenly so gentle that my will crumbled like the dry leaves beneath Shindoh’s feet.
I know you watch me. That’s why I do it. I am looking for you.
His arm tightened around me and his lips found my ear again, but he didn’t speak, and his yearning covered us both, obscuring everything else.
You have told me to let you in, Tiras. Begged me. And I have. I have opened my doors wide. Yet . . . you stayed away.
He cursed and gripped my jaw in his gloved hand, turning my face toward him so I could lift my eyes to his.
“Don’t you understand? I would do anything to stay here with you. I am losing myself!”
I started to shake my head, pulling on his wrist and releasing myself from his grasp. No.
Indecision matched his yearning before he suddenly swept both away, and with a swift jerk, yanked the thick leather glove from his left hand with his teeth, revealing what was beneath. His hand was still that of a man, but as his fingers tapered at the tips, talons jutted from the very ends. My heart climbed my throat like a caged animal, and I could only stare, transfixed.
“I can’t even touch you without a glove anymore, Lark,” he groaned. “I will harm you.”
Without a word I smoothed my fingers over the talons that had broken through the skin. They were twice the length of his natural nails, tubular and sharp. His fingers flexed like he wanted to pull them away, but he didn’t.
I raised his palm to my lips and kissed it gently. Then I glided his hand over my jaw and held it against my face, welcoming his touch.