Crown of Feathers (Book 2 of the Crown Trilogy)

Nineteen

Three loud bangs come from the door and a booming voice says, "This is your wake-up call, Your Grace."

I dart up, and my eyes spring open. Searing pain rushes through my pounding head, and I hiss as I bring my palm to my forehead. It feels like a thousand horses trampled on my head and it makes my stomach somersault. I take deep breaths and look out the slit between the black curtains covering the window. Dim stars on the verge of disappearing for the day pepper the dusty blue sky. The last time I was up before dawn was one of the many sleepless nights I had after Kyron left.

I pat the mattress beside me, only to find it empty and cool. With a gravelly voice, I call for him, but the room remains quiet.

A thousand terrible thoughts run through my head. All of them revolve around Kyron realizing last night was a mistake. Not only was I drunk, but our purpose for being here has nothing to do with us. We should focus on the threat at hand, but we found ourselves wrapped up in our broken love life. But it didn't feel as broken last night. It felt like we were on the mend.

"Shit," I whisper, running my palm over my face.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts, readying myself for the rejection to come. I promised Micah and my father I wasn't coming here for Kyron, that he wouldn't be a distraction, and I let it happen my first night back at Basecamp.

I lift my head from my hand and look back at where I last saw him. A folded piece of paper rests on the pillow. My hands tremble as I pick it up, anticipating a confession of his regret.

The tea on the table will help your head and stomach.

My relief invigorates me, and I get to my feet and step outside of the room.

Kyron's jacket is gone from where it laid over the back of the chair and his boots no longer sit in front of the low fire burning in the hearth. On the breakfast table rests a teakettle, a plate of toast and jam, and another folded piece of paper.

I open the note with less fear than before.

Drink the tea and go soak in the tub. I filled it with oils that will relax you and steaming water, so it should still be warm.

With a smile, I pour the tea into the simple white cup waiting next to the kettle. As I sip the concoction of herbs, I make my way to the washroom. The tub is filled with warm water which smells like mint and eucalyptus, and another note awaits me on the ledge of the mirror.

I remove my tunic and undergarments, grab the next letter from Kyron, and sink into the water.

Today is the start of our legacy as our kingdoms' future rulers. You and I will heal our land and strengthen our people. We will break all the rules and rewrite them. And we will do it together.

Yours until my dying breath,

Kyron

P.S. I had your luggage brought to our room.

I press the paper to my wet skin and sink into the water. The weight of the world slides off my shoulders like the droplets traveling down the plains of my body. Kyron isn't going anywhere. He wants me to know a rule where the Stigian are not my enemy, where those who don't hone their power don't fear for their lives.

This is the manifestation of the dream Micah had for me when he placed my crown upon my head. The expectation always felt unattainable. How was I—a girl not born to rule and with dormant power—going to bring Pliris back together? I'm still unsure of the answer, but this is no longer my burden to carry alone. Kyron and I are fighting for the same outcome. We want a people and land which are united.