Shield of Sparrows

“Odessa, wait. Please.” Zavier’s boots pounded on the steps behind me as he followed me to the second floor.

I ignored him, taking the stairs two at a time until I reached the walkway. Then I marched toward my door, more than ready to disappear inside and block out the realm.

Except I wasn’t going to get that wish. Not yet.

There was a scowling warrior blocking my path.

Ransom shoved off the wall where he’d been leaning. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You’re in my way.”

Did he move? No. He filled the walkway with his massive frame, forcing me to stop. His hazel eyes flickered over my head to Zavier. And then the hazel gave way to molten silver.

Was that anger on my behalf? Did he recognize the signs of a man who’d just fucked my lady’s maid—the rumpled clothing, flushed cheeks, and finger-combed hair?

Zavier wasn’t wearing his crown tonight. Maybe he’d forgotten it on Jocelyn’s bedside table.

“I’m sorry, Ranse,” Zavier said.

Why was he apologizing to Ransom? How about a godsdamn apology for me, the wife?

At this point, I didn’t even want to hear it. I shoved past Ransom, my shoulder knocking into his arm as I clutched Faze to my chest. And when I reached my suite, I threw the door open and slammed it closed, dropping Faze to the floor as my hands dove into my hair, tugging and pulling at the braid that was already coming loose. “Damn it.”

There were tears in my eyes.

Why? Why was I crying over this?

How could I be angry at Zavier? It wasn’t like there was a smidgen of attraction between us. He’d never once expressed a romantic interest, and I couldn’t even consider us friends.

It hadn’t even bothered me to know that Banner, my fiancé, had kept a lover in Roslo. Yet this was bringing me to tears? Affairs were commonplace in my father’s court. Of course there’d be affairs from Turan royals, too.

But why did he have to pick Jocelyn? Why, of all the women in Turah, did he have to choose my lady’s maid as a lover?

I couldn’t even blame him.

Jocelyn was beautiful and smart. Witty and strong. Most men gave her a second glance.

The only thing that earned me a second look was the crown some Turan soldier had stolen from my treehouse in Treow.noveldrama

It wasn’t that he’d chosen Jocelyn.

It was that he hadn’t chosen me.

Why was I never the first choice? Why was I always the consolation prize? With Father. With Margot. With my tutors. And now with Zavier.

What was wrong with me that I wasn’t enough?

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, and I swiped them away, breathing through the sting in my nose.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been overlooked. It wouldn’t be the last. So when would it stop hurting? When would I stop expecting anything different?

“Damn it.” I wiped the next batch of tears, then pulled the last tangles of my braid free, letting my curls spill around my shoulders.

Where did we go from here? Was I supposed to pretend it hadn’t happened? Did they expect me to turn a blind eye?

If Zavier thought I’d invite him into my bed after this, he was fucking dreaming.

The door opened at my back. It was one of two men, and at the moment, I didn’t want to see either.

“Go away.”

“No.” Ransom shut the door with a click.

Of course it was him.

It had always been him.

Maybe that was the real problem. Maybe that was why I couldn’t stop the tears. Because all this time, all this guilt, and for what? Loyalty to a prince, a husband, who would never be loyal to me?

“Did you know?” I asked. It was a foolish question, but at this point, I simply wanted to understand how deep this betrayal cut.

“No. Zavier just told me.”

Well, that was something.

“Will you look at me?”

I didn’t turn. “Please, Ransom. Just go. I want to be alone.”

“You’re really that upset.”

“Yes. No.” I shook my head, my hands diving into my hair. “I don’t know. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong. I shouldn’t feel…”

The air shifted as he moved closer. The warmth and scents that were Ransom might as well have been strong arms wrapping around my shoulders. Moss and cedar. Wind and rain. It was heaven and hell.

“Feel what?” His voice was a low murmur.

“Relieved.”

It was relief.

These tears might have started because of Zavier and Jocelyn and my wounded pride. But they kept coming from relief.

I didn’t want Zavier to want me. And if he’d found a connection with someone else, that meant I could stop feeling guilty. I could stop loathing myself for falling for Ransom.

I’d spent weeks and weeks smothering the truth. Stifling the guilt. And now I didn’t have to anymore. Because Zavier had fucked up first.

Shades, what a mess.

“A wife shouldn’t feel relieved that her husband is sleeping with her lady’s maid.”

He touched the end of a curl, and a tingle shot down my spine. “Is that why you won’t look at me? Because you’re relieved?”

“No.” If I looked at him, everything I’d been keeping inside would come tumbling out. And once I said it, there was no taking it back.

“Look at me, Odessa.”

No one would ever say my name like Ransom. These feelings I’d had for ages wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried to forget. And in the end, it didn’t matter that Zavier was with Jocelyn. It wouldn’t matter how many lovers he had in his bed.

He was a crown prince. A king.

And I was a silly princess who was expected to give him heirs and stand at his side.

The rules were different for women. I doubted Zavier would be willing to let me shatter my vows, even for the Guardian.

Ransom wasn’t mine. He wouldn’t be mine.

“I have to let go.”

“Of what?”

“You,” I whispered. “You are not mine to keep.”

He breathed, shifting so close his chest brushed against my back. “What if I was yours?”

“How? I signed my name in blood, remember?”

His exhale was so deep that it seemed to come all the way from his toes. A breath he’d been holding for months. “I saw you in Roslo. On the cliffside.”

My heart quit pumping. My lungs seized. Was this what he’d been trying to tell me all this time? Was this another secret I’d have to suffer?

He’d seen me that day, my wedding day, months ago. And he was only telling me now. Why?

“You went into the water with brown hair and emerged with red. And as you hurried into the castle, dripping wet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Then you were there, in the throne room, your hair dyed again. And I saw in you what I see in myself.”

My hands trembled. My pulse raced so fast I was getting dizzy. Hope and dread began to battle in my chest. Hope for what he might say. Dread for the same. If it had taken him months to tell me this truth, I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

“I know a thing or two about pretending,” he said. “About leading a dual life and wearing a disguise.”

“Ransom.” My voice wobbled. “Don’t tell me something that will make me hate you.”

“You already hate me, remember?” His hands, warm and strong, settled on my shoulders. “I came to Quentis to sniff out the Gold King. Figure out why he’d hired my warriors to kill a handful of marroweels when I know for damn sure his own soldiers could have done the job. I came to set eyes on the daughter who’d become the Turan queen. But then I saw you, and everything changed.”

“What did you do?”

“I decided to set you free.”

I whirled, his hands falling off my shoulders as I stared up at him. “Free? You think I’m free? Married to Zavier? You think that claiming me as a bride prize rescued me? I’m wearing twice the shackles I was before. You didn’t set me free. You chained me to two kingdoms instead of one. To a man more interested in his wife’s lady’s maid than. His. Wife.”

His jaw clenched. “You are not chained to Zavier.”

“There’s a treaty somewhere on this continent that proves otherwise.”

Ransom growled. “Who did you exchange vows with, Odessa?”

“Zavier.” He’d stood at my side. He’d signed his name in blood. He’d vowed.

Except he hadn’t uttered a word. Not once.

The Guardian, Ransom, had volunteered to speak for his prince.

Oh, gods. The color drained from my face.

Zavier hadn’t spoken a word, not until we were aboard the Cutter. It hadn’t been his voice in the sanctuary, it had been Ransom’s.

“The blood. The vial.” Zavier had kept it tucked into his palm, obscuring the edges. Had he held it to the light, it wouldn’t have shone red.

It would have been the darkest of greens.

“But he signed the treaty,” I said, shaking my head.

He took my hand, opening my palm.

The scar from Father’s knife was nothing more than a pale pink line in my flesh. In the darkness, it wasn’t even visible.

He splayed my fingers, spreading my hand wide. Then he held out his own to show a cut healed long ago. All that remained was a faint white line.

Twin scars.

The scars of a Sparrow.

And her king.

“With my blood,” he said. “With my oath spoken.”

My knees began to wobble and weaken. I yanked my hand free of his hold. “You tricked us. It was a lie. It was all a lie. What about the Voster?”

“The High Priest knew I had my reasons.”

So he’d allowed Ransom to deceive us. All of us. “And what, exactly, are these reasons? That treaty has been in place for generations. It binds countries through royal marriages. You are not a prin—”

A prince.

“It’s you.” I swayed, my balance faltering as the truth crashed, shattering everything I’d known for months into pieces of jagged glass. “You are the crown prince. It was all a ruse.”

“Not all of it.” His eyes darkened, shifting to that forest green as he took my arms, keeping me on my feet. Pulling me close and into his chest. “You have always been my queen.”

My queen. How many times had he called me that? How many times had he referred to me as the Sparrow? Countless.

He was the crown prince. Ramsey’s son. There was a reason Tillia didn’t bow to Zavier. Didn’t call him by a title.

It wasn’t Zavier’s to claim.

And neither was I.

“Why?” My voice cracked.

“I told you.”

“To set me free?” I jerked myself out of his hold. “You forced me into a marriage. That’s not setting me free.”

The softness in his expression made my heart pinch. “I am not long for this realm, Odessa. And when I’m gone, you will be free. Your tie to me will be broken. Your life can be of your choosing.”

He was going to set me free with his death.

My heart split, a crack down the center that would be impossible to repair. Tears flooded my eyes, making his handsome face blurry. My chin quivered. “You lied to me.”

“Yes.”

“I hate you.” The lie came off my tongue, past my teeth, and for once, it sounded convincing.

“Yes, you do.” Ransom tucked a curl behind my ear. Then left me alone.