Crown of Feathers (Book 2 of the Crown Trilogy)

Three

Lucent has never looked so foreign to me, and I'm a stranger to my homeland.

As Leif and I ride down the main road on the back of our horses, busy citizens go about their every day. They carry baskets of goods in and out of the wooden storefronts and the square bustles with the sounds of animals and hammers banging against metal. Most wear drab attire—brown trousers and shifts covered with aprons—clothing they don't mind getting dirty with a hard day's work.

Many of the shopkeepers look up from their tasks to nod or flirtatiously wink at my best friend, but they don't spare me a second glance. No bows or shyly spoken Your Grace—the people of Lucent don't recognize me.

Perhaps it's my appearance. After two days of occasional stops and sleeping on the ground, I must look like something a tornado tossed into town. My hair is matted, clothes rumpled, and my eyes are heavy with big dark bags. I look and feel anything but royal at the moment.

But isn't that what I spent the last seven months doing, hiding what I'm anointed to be as I tried to find myself? I wanted a chance to catch my breath and know who I am before I'm fully dedicated to my calling. I learned to harness the Sacred Gift of the Statera, wield a sword to almost perfection, and met new people from the five kingdoms. Yet I still don't have a firm grip on who I should be. Though my time away was cut short, I doubt I would have come to a definitive answer. I lost a bit of who I was. I'm not as poised or as trusting. The part of me which held on to romantic dreams and smiled more than frowned is missing. I hope I can find her again and merge her with who I've become.

We round the last corner toward the palace, and my heart flutters like it has transformed into an enormous butterfly. I reach out and brush my fingers through Nortus' black main to hide their trembling. My horse snorts and his stride switches to a trot.

"Are you happy to be home, big boy?" I ask, patting the side of his ebony neck.

"Statera, yes. I'm ready to sleep in a bed."

I drag my eyes away from my horse to Leif and cock a brow.

"Oh, you were..." He points to Nortus.

I chuckle and shake my head.

Zek rode ahead of us early this morning to let Micah know we were on our way. It relieved me to be out from under his watchful eye and to spend time alone with Leif. But most of the journey home focused on me and the things I did while away. Now that we are close to the palace and the demands which come with our status, I regret not inquiring about him more.

"We can talk about your bed if you like; who is warming it now?" I ask.

"The same bronzed, drill sergeant god who was warming it when you left."

"Really? Wel is still putting up with you?"

Leif's entire face lights up like the surface of the sun. "Yeah, Wel is still putting up with me. Is that so hard to believe?"

"No. I've put up with you my entire life. Some of us have stronger nerves than others." I flash him a wide, mocking smile.

"Or some people are just a perfect fit."

My mind races to the last conversation I had with the sibyl archivist. "Is he your...are you parahs?"

"No, but he's the one."

The hope rising in me sinks to the pit of my stomach like a boulder in water. It would have been nice if our promise to wed didn't shackle us both to this life. I could have found some peace in knowing Leif was free to belong solely to the man he loves. But like so many things in my life, it's not that simple.