Thirty-Three
T he ride away from the Reinholz estate was a blur for Cin.
No one questioned Emma’s inclusion, for which he was grateful.
As more and more people joined the edges of their procession, her presence became one oddity of many.
The growing crowd seemed to make the queen nervous, but she kept a barrier of watch members between her own little party and the rest of the world as she put on her best smile.
Some changes, Cin figured, would come slowly.
By the time they’d reached the main square of Darmburg, it seemed as though the whole of the town had emerged to see them.
The excited villagers packed so thoroughly into the streets on either side of the square that it stalled the royal party at the center.
Through the dispersing morning gloom, Cin caught the gleam of the castle towers.
With Lorenz beside him, they did not feel quite so distant anymore.
The prince’s horse danced on its hooves as Cin’s flock-creature rubbed up against it.
Cin leaned close enough to whisper, “I think you may need to abandon your dream of a bare-chested statue in this particular village. Now that they’ve seen your own sculpted musculature, no metal or stone will live up to it. ”
Lorenz laughed, adjusting the torn fragments of cloth that still hung off his shoulders.
For all that he claimed his rakishness was a front, he had denied the watch’s offer of a jacket, though he’d played it off as chivalry.
Cin suspected it had more to do with the fresh skin over his newly freed heart though, with the way Lorenz’s fingertips kept tracing the magical flesh absentmindedly.
It shimmered in response to his touch, alive with Lacey and Rags’ spirits.
Cin had caught himself smiling at the feather-like shine every time.
Now though, his attention was taken in by the still-growing crowd.
Cin recognized the better half of them, and for once, it seemed some even noticed him in turn.
Echoes of the same conversation traveled through the amassing villagers—“Is that one of the Reinholz children? The quiet one? Oh, what is his name?”—but more and more, those confused whispers turned to excited shouts.
“Is he the one?” called the miller’s daughter, pulling herself onto her tiptoes to wave at Lorenz.
From the other side of the square, the old man who lived two houses down from Dorthe cried, “Tell us, does the shoe fit?”
“Show us the shoe!” someone nearer demanded, the desire echoing in a wave throughout the crowd.
Beneath Queen Idonia’s regal poise, she seemed hesitant, all the bravado she’d had while within her castle walls clearly strained by the uncontrollable anticipation around them.
Lorenz seemed almost to buckle with her, but Cin slipped his hand into his prince’s and squeezed.
The light returned to Lorenz’s face tenfold.
He raised Cin’s hand above their heads, shouting back to the crowd, “Shall we find out?”
A cheer sprang up at that. The queen and king nodded their approval. From her spot on her mount off to the side of the party, even Emma gave her own call of encouragement.
The crown’s watch cleared space for Lorenz to dismount, and Cin allowed his own steed to vanish into a flock of spiraling pigeons that made the crowd cry out in shock and delight.
Talk of magic spread through them, until it seemed like the whole village was debating whether they knew that Cin could control the birds—every person who claimed they’d known was certainly a liar—and Cin swore he heard the words Plumed and Menace together, though no one seemed to take it seriously.
This was the man their prince had chosen, after all.
He could only be good and gentle and pious, surely.
A happy flutter spread through Cin’s stomach as Lorenz settled onto one knee in front of him, drawing Cin’s other shoe from the small bag at his waist. Blood still stained the heel and toe, but the leather shimmered gently, dark yet sparkling, as though its magic were coming alive especially for Cin.
He didn’t extend the shoe to Cin, though, his voice low as he asked, “You do know that while my love for you is as deep as any love could be, I am still not one to feel the dreamy passions of romance?” Lorenz looked nervous, but hopeful, his brow tight and his eyes pleading.
“The bonds on my heart are gone, but who I am hasn’t changed.
I would cross kingdoms to be at your side, and without you any future of mine would be empty and unbearable, but my affection is still a steady beast, committed, but, I’m afraid, a bit unexciting if you’re looking for a love with the same giddy passion as our physical intimacy.
Are you certain you’ll be happy with that? ”
“ I am a little giddy for you , I think.” It had been slow in coming, and it was a sensation so firmly tied to who the prince was at his core, in the corners of his soul that only time and attention had revealed, but the feeling was there.
Cin brushed his thumb over his own heart.
“But if you say your love for me is so deep as this, regardless of the ways in which you feel it, it’s enough.
The giddiness of a new romance fades, anyway. We’re simply ahead of the curve.”
Relief and joy spread across Lorenz’s face. “Then what do you say, my dove?” He raised his voice, its charming arrogance only outmatched by the tender kindness Cin had grown to love him for. “Would you marry me?”
“I suppose.” A giddy smile pulled across Cin’s face. Carefully, he lifted his bare foot, giving his toes a little wiggle. “You do owe me a shoe, after all.”
Lorenz laughed, wiping at the corner of his eye before sliding the shoe onto Cin’s foot.
It fit perfectly. The whole village seemed to erupt in revelry, but their joy faded in comparison to the peace that settled over Cin.
He knew in that instant, if he hadn’t known all the moments before, that this was the future he’d always been heading for: one where this man, this prince, was beaming up at him with awe and pride and wonder.
Lorenz laughed again, fuller this time. “I think this means you have to tell me your preferred name.”
This time it felt easy, simple: “It’s Cin. Not like the misdeed, but the ashes. Cin like a cinder hot enough that when wrongfully stoked it will light the world ablaze.”
“You are covered in the stuff.” Lorenz grinned, brushing his hand through Cin’s hair a few times, each sweep dislodging more gray clumps. Perdition cooed at him for it, and the tangle of new flesh over Lorenz’s heart shimmered in response.
“Don’t you start,” Cin grumbled, but he found he didn’t mind the thought of his old nickname, if it was Lorenz laying claim to it. He was Cin, but he could be Cinder, too, and a thousand other things, some more bloody than others. Though, he thought, not a king.
And that was all right. He and Lorenz would serve Hallin in other ways, just as valuable but far more suitable.
Cin’s prince looked as though he was already serving his kingdom then, as he lifted Cin’s hand into the air once more, grinning his wide, satisfied smile as he announced, “Behold, my fiancé: Cin Reinholz, the Pigeon Prince!”
Cin’s flock responded to the call, encircling them both in a rush of feathers before most veered off into the sky where the cheers of the crowd still echoed.
Perdition stayed behind, landing—not on Cin, for once—but atop Emma’s messy head, picking free tangled strands of her hair as she laughed.
Pigeon Prince . Cin felt his smile ache in his cheeks, beaming out of him in ways he couldn’t understand, much less contain.
It felt like… like being seen, for the first time. Pigeon Prince.
He squeezed Lorenz’s hand and it felt as though he might never, ever have to let go again.
His prince leaned in to whisper to him, his warm breath tickling Cin’s ear. “How do we make them part for us?”
Cin glanced toward the sky. He had always been connected to his flock, but now they seemed to share one heart as the simple look brought them down again.
The birds flew through the crowd, their magic sweeping the villagers harmlessly to the side to carve a way forward for the royal party.
When part of the flock returned to form back into Cin’s mount, he pulled Lorenz up behind him.
His partner wrapped both arms around him, hugging close against his back, no gap this time for the cage of his heart, just flesh on flesh, love against love.
It felt righter than it ever had—like with Rags and Lacey’s magic in his chest, Lorenz, Cin, and their flock were all made from the same stuff now.
In a way, Cin suspected they were.
He leaned his head back, settling it against Lorenz’s shoulder as they meandered their way out of the village, waving to the crowd as it finally dispersed. “Now that we’re engaged, does this mean that we get to have sex in your bed?”
Lorenz gave a tiny nibble on Cin’s jawline. “Only if we still get to have it everywhere else, too.”
Cin grinned. “Everywhere, and then some.”
They’d need to be on the move anyway, if they were going to find Adalwin.
While Cin still worried he’d given the royal family false hope, he was more and more certain of himself by the minute.
Right now, Lorenz’s brother was out there somewhere, as green as the frogs that croaked around him, trying to be content in the knowledge that at least Lorenz was loved.
If they could find him again, perhaps they could figure out how to break whatever curse had been placed over him, the same way Cin had broken the dark magic in Lorenz’s bonds.
Despite the ease with which Cin’s flock had led him there last time, he could already feel it would be a harder journey now. But a worthwhile one. Anything was worth bringing Lorenz back his brother.
And all the while, Cin would have Lorenz at his side: a man who didn’t need him, but wanted him all the same, wanted him for everything he was, bloody hands and all.
Riding toward the palace, under the light of the noon sun and the shadows of his flock’s wings, Emma’s tired giggles before him and the dwindling smoke of his family home behind, Cin knew he might not have been as pious as his mother had hoped.
But he felt that what he’d done was good. And that was enough.