Shield of Sparrows

The dining hall was full of laughter and conversation. All of Treow seemed to be crammed inside tonight, the room vibrating with excitement as Zavier’s rangers were reunited with their families.

A man named Rafe sat on the table beside mine, his wife perched on one knee while their baby boy bounced on the other. His beard was just as bushy as it had been in the throne room weeks ago and still braided beneath his chin.

Marlowe, another of Zavier’s rangers who hadn’t been in Quentis, was sitting beside Mariette, her mother. The caretaker wore a smile for the first time since I’d arrived in Treow, overjoyed at her daughter’s safe return.

And the third ranger, Hale, was holding hands with his husband. They were at a table in the center of the hall, but from the way they stared at each other, they might as well have been the only two people in all of Turah.

“This reminds me of home,” Brielle said from her seat beside mine, sorrow dulling her eyes.

Jocelyn put a comforting hand on her shoulder. While Jocelyn had fallen into a routine, like me, settling into Treow life, Brielle had withdrawn. Each day, she seemed more melancholy and homesick. Watching these families reunite had pushed her to the verge of tears.

“I miss home so much it hurts,” she said. “Don’t you?”

“Yes.”

No.

Maybe I should be sad. Lonely for my family.

Except I didn’t miss Quentis. Not really. I missed the sound of the ocean. I missed the pastries the castle’s chef would bake fresh each morning. I missed Arthy’s laugh when I’d sneak a treat into the nursery.

But the rest? The castle. The city. My father and Margot.

They crossed my mind less and less each day. And when they did, all I could feel was the weight of responsibility on my shoulders.noveldrama

Spy for Father. Kill for Father. Find Allesaria for Father.

How? I was stuck. Totally fucking stuck.

Maybe the reason I didn’t miss home was because home meant Father. And when I thought of him, I pictured the disappointment on his face when I failed him completely.

“Highness.” Jocelyn nudged my elbow with hers, jerking her chin toward the door.

A hush had fallen over the dining hall. A hush caused by a quiet man.

Zavier stood inside the doorway, arms clasped behind his back, posture rigid. He nodded to his people, then looked to me.

A summons.

I wasn’t done eating my dinner, but I hadn’t had much of an appetite today. Not since I’d watched Evangeline launch herself into Zavier’s arms.

Her father’s arms.

I’d spent less than a day in his company. He was as much of a stranger to me as most of the people in this room. Yet it hurt that he hadn’t told me about his daughter.

“I’d better go,” I told Brielle and Jocelyn, standing. “See you tomorrow.”

Brielle forced a smile. “Good night, Highness.”

“Odessa.” It was a pointless correction but one I made anyway.

No one spoke as I weaved past tables to join Zavier. I’d give it to the Turans, they were discreet with their rumormongering. In Roslo, whispers and rumors would have been flying before I’d made it out of my chair.

Zavier nodded to the entire room, giving everyone permission to resume their conversation. Then he opened the door and escorted me into the muted evening light.

He didn’t speak as we walked away from the commons. Just like we hadn’t spoken in the clearing. He’d given his full attention to Evangeline, carrying her away with only a nod to me and the Guardian.

This reunion was inevitable. Still, I didn’t want to talk. All those questions. All that dwelling. This was my chance for answers. Yet all I wanted was to put it off for another day or ten or twenty.

I had a sinking feeling that I wasn’t ready for the truth.

“How are you, Odessa?” he asked as we started down the empty, narrow path that led to the training area. Away from the treehouses.

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Tried again. Changed my mind.

Awkward wasn’t strong enough a word for this. Even though we were walking, I started to squirm.

“So…” I said. “You have a daughter.”

“Yes.”

“That would have been good to know.”

He ran a hand over his jaw. It was the hand he’d had bandaged at the wedding. Did he have a scar like mine, pink yet fading each day? “You and I haven’t spent much time together.”

“No, we haven’t. Your choice, not mine.”

I’d never asked him to stay away. I’d never asked for any of this. It was his doing. Since the throne room, this was all on Zavier.

And now, I wasn’t only a wife, I was a stepmother.

When Father married Margot, she’d known he was a father. She’d known she’d be taking on the responsibility of his child.

Was that why Zavier had married me? Because he’d decided I’d be a better stepmother to Evangeline than Mae?

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Mae wasn’t the motherly type. But it was just another shock. Another secret. I was so, so tired of being the last person in the know.

“Evie is four,” he said. “Very few people know she’s my daughter.”

“As in, don’t tell anyone,” I muttered. “If I hadn’t followed her today, would you have told me?”

“No.”

It was brutal. Honest. I tried to hide my flinch.

“I do not want her involved in court life,” he said.

Fair. As a woman who’d been married off without her choice and forced to sign a magical treaty, I definitely couldn’t recommend princess.

Was Turah next in line for the Shield of Sparrows? If the royal families in Calandra knew about Evangeline, would she be the next princess forced to marry to uphold the treaty?

It all depended on the next generation of royals. If she was the only princess, then Turah would give her up.

Zavier would give her up.

Unless no one knew she existed. Even the Voster.

“And her mother?” Was that Luella?

Oh, hell. Was this why he hadn’t consummated our marriage? Was he in love with the mother of his child?

When it came to the Shield of Sparrows, love didn’t matter. He was always going to be forced to wed. Maybe he’d thought I’d be more understanding of his situation than Mae.

“She died,” he said. “In childbirth.”

“I’m sorry.” And more confused than ever.

“Evie has spent most of her life in Treow and Ellder. I’m with her as often as possible, but…”

But he was a prince with obligations. And if he spent too much time with her, people would become suspicious.

“How do you hide it?” I asked.

“She learned young to keep the secret.”

“But she called you Papa today.”

His mouth flattened. “And she was reminded that those kinds of slips cannot happen.”

“Ah.” Oops.

We walked for a few more paces, my mind still reeling. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

“There is nothing to do.”

Would he hide her forever? Would she ever be able to claim him as her own?

I understood why he’d keep her hidden. Sort of. But my heart broke for her. And him.

“Do you mind if I get to know her?” I blurted. Maybe I was just missing my little brother, but I wanted to befriend this girl. This daughter. “I won’t betray your secret. I’ll understand if you say no, but I’d like—”

“Yes. You can get to know her.”

“Thank you.”

He stopped, staring at me for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Then he brought his hands to his heart and gave me a slight bow.

That gesture was the same one the Guardian had given and received from the Voster High Priest. What did it mean?

Before I could ask, Zavier set off down the trail again. “How are you liking Treow?”

Was he asking because I’d be staying here for a long while? “It’s been unexpected. But I like it.”

It was the truth. I liked my treehouse. My time with Tillia. I liked that I had some freedoms.

“I’m glad.”

“My lady’s maids have been staying with others. Would it be possible to move them in together? One of them has been incredibly homesick. I think it might help if she had more time with a friend. Please.”

“I’ll see to it first thing tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Pleases. Thank-yous. If there was anything to say about our marriage, at least it was polite.

“Where have you been?” I asked.

“Traveling.”

Did Evie get these vague nonanswers, too? Or were those just for me? “Will I ever go traveling with you? Or do I get to stick around here?”

Zavier stayed quiet.

“You just ignore the questions you don’t want to answer, don’t you?”

“Sometimes.”

“It’s rather annoying.”

He smiled. “Evie says the same thing.”

“Smart girl.”

“That she is.” He nodded. “It is safer for Evie here. As it is for you. But before long, we’ll go to Ellder. As much as I love Treow, it’s no place to be when the crux migration begins.”

My heart, my hopes, sank to the dirt.

If he meant to keep me in Ellder, then we wouldn’t be going to Allesaria before the migration.

There’d be no way for me to send Father information. Not while I was stuck in some fortress. And if Father was right, our people would die, as they had for generations, when the crux flew.

What did I do? How did I fix this? Was there any way to change his mind?

My head was spinning, whirling over the impossible, so that when we reached my treehouse, it took a moment for me to recognize my own rope ladder.

“Good night, Odessa.”

I blinked, snapping out of my head. “Oh, um, good night, Zavier.”

Fix this. Do something. Anything.

Before he could walk away, I rose up on my toes and pressed a kiss against his cheek. His jaw was smooth, and his skin smelled like cedar and soap.

He didn’t jerk away, but his body stiffened. When I dropped to my heels, there was something like pity in his gaze.

“I don’t know why I did that.” I closed my eyes, shaking my head, wishing I could take it back. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His hand came to my cheek. His palm was calloused. Not typical for a prince. Though Zavier was nothing like any prince I’d ever met. He wasn’t spoiled or cruel. Pompous or arrogant.

When he dropped his hand, I waited for the sound of his retreating footsteps. Then I cracked an eye, waiting until he was gone before I buried my face in my hands and groaned.

“Ugh.” I stomped a clump of dirt before I started up my rope ladder. Once I reached the balcony, I trudged inside, about to kick off my boots, but froze when I found a visitor.

“Late night, my queen?” The Guardian lounged on my bed, his arms behind his head.

“Get your ass off my bed. Now.” I raised my hands, fingers splayed and flexed, and envisioned them wrapped around his neck. How good it would feel to strangle him right now. “Go. Away.”

He crossed his ankles like he was getting comfortable for a nap.

“Do you have any respect for a person’s private space? Or is it just mine you insist on invading? Are you afraid to be alone? Is that why you’re always here?”

“I think we both know something about being alone.”

Was that vulnerability in his voice? Or was he taunting me?

His jaw was still clenched, irritation written all over his face. But something in his hazel eyes betrayed that expression. Something that said he’d come here to not be alone.

Or so that I wouldn’t be, either.

Before I could make sense of it, the look was gone and his eyes were as hard and angry as ever. “Where is your home?”

“This again?” I tugged off a boot. If he was going to invade my bedroom, then he could deal with my smelly feet. “Roslo. Though at the moment, this charming treehouse is my home. Next question?”

The Guardian’s eyes turned silver. “Careful.”

“Or what?” I yanked off the other boot, tempted to throw it at him. “I’m not scared of you.”

He was infuriating. But not a threat. The Guardian would never hurt me.

“Any more questions? Or can we call it a night?”

“How many men have you bedded? I know you’re anxious to join Zavier in his, but a word of caution—he’s not fond of women who reek of desperation.”

My jaw dropped. My nostrils flared, and my cheeks reddened. Of course he’d seen me make a fool of myself outside. This man was always lurking, ready to throw my humiliations in my face. “Get. Out.”

He jackknifed off the bed, standing so fast to cross the room, I blinked and he was towering in front of me. He leaned in so close that his nose nearly touched mine. When he spoke, his breath caressed my cheek. “Did your father send you here to spy?”

“No.” It was said too fast, too unsteady.

He scoffed and was out the door in another blink.

“Did I pass your test?” I called to his back.

He answered by unclasping my rope ladder and letting it fall to the ground. Then he stepped onto the railing of my balcony and leaped to his own.

“I guess not,” I muttered.

He slammed his door.