Warbirds | Rebecca Thorne #2
“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” the duke said to Tasi. Meanwhile, Korvi straightened, casting a suspicious glance at the servants and the snowy owl.
Tasi offered a demure bow. “My liege.”
“This is Tasi, my lady-in-waiting,” Cera said. “She’s currently mad at me.”
Tasi rolled her eyes. “I will deposit your things in your quarters, duchess.” Back to titles.
Cera grimaced, and Tasi’s lips tilted. She shouldered the bags, bowed again to the duke, and followed as he gestured to a servant waiting to lead her inside.
As she passed Cera, she said, “Don’t fall for him. ”
“I thought that was the point,” Cera whispered back.
Tasi snorted, and vanished through the palace’s double doors.
It left Cera with the duke. Now that he wasn’t wearing the hooded cowl or cloak, she could see him properly. And damn it all, he was gorgeous. She stared longer than necessary at his ivory skin, his sharp blue eyes.
“Just us, then,” the duke said with a laugh. “Anyway. I’m Raiden. Your bird is stunning. A raven?”
“Certainly not a crow,” Cera replied slyly. “And be glad for it – they travel in murders. Can’t have that while visiting a foreign dignitary.”
He laughed again, brightly, and tension slid from his shoulders. It was wholly possible he was just as nervous to meet her as she’d been about this trip. “Of course not. What’s his name?”
“Korvi,” Cera said.
“Korvi… the Corvus.”
“It’s spelled with a K.”
“Naturally.”
They smirked at each other, and Cera’s heart squeezed. Don’t fall for him. What a joke.
“And who’s yours?” The saddle had been removed from the snowy owl, and Cera stepped over to her. The owl eyed her curiously, with none of the derision of the servants. It bent down, feathers fluffing, and she reached for its massive beak—
—and a quiet, hollow note arose from the instrument around Raiden’s neck.
Instantly, the owl’s sharp eyes dulled, and it obediently lifted its head out of her reach.
“Careful,” Raiden said, panic edging his voice. “She’s bitten people before. Her name is Pinske. She’s… ah, spirited.”
She didn’t seem spirited. If anything, she seemed chained.
Cera forced a chuckle, stepping away from Pinske. “Apologies. In Raliana, the warbirds are all very friendly. Leftover essence of the Shining Eagle, I suppose.”
“Maybe you can help me train her. But… carefully, please. For my sake.” Raiden rubbed the back of his neck, letting the musical instrument fall to his chest again. Up close, Cera could see it clearly: a clay ocarina, clearly well-loved.
“Siezte,” Raiden said to his warbird, and Pinske dutifully spread her wings and took to the skies.
Like a well-trained puppet, she flew into the aviary through a massive opening high above them.
Before two servants could close the doors behind her, Raiden signaled for them to pause, casting a glance at Cera.
“Korvi is welcome in the aviary, if you’d like?
Pinske will share the space; there’s plenty of prey. ”
Cera waved it off. “In Raliana, we prefer not to cage our warbirds. Korvi will have fun exploring the mountains.”
“You… have a way to recall him, correct?” Raiden sounded both concerned and suspicious.
Cera quirked an eyebrow. “Will I fail your test if I don’t?”
Raiden pressed his lips together, signaling for the servants to close the doors of the aviary.
As they locked shut, he crossed his arms. “I meant no disrespect. Clearly, Raliana is the origin of warbird riding; your culture is very different than ours.” A nervous laugh.
“Admittedly, I expected you’d be flying an eagle. ”
Imagine that. Cera snorted. “Well, I expected you’d be riding on a northern goose, personally. Frankly, an owl seems pretty tame in comparison.”
It shattered the tension. Raiden stifled a snort himself, covering his mouth. “Oh, Yarlzot, can you imagine? A goose warbird would be the end of us all. We leave them in the deep north and pray they don’t notice us.”
Cera laughed and waved a hand to Korvi. The raven spread inky wings and took to the skies, circling the aviary before disappearing into the dark clouds above. Raiden watched him go, whistling his appreciation. “A raven is a stunning choice, though.”
“In Raliana, we don’t choose our birds. They choose their riders,” Cera said, and winked.
Raiden grinned back, his blue eyes sparkling. “Korvi chose well.”
That was smooth. Cera’s body warmed, but she made a show of shivering, rubbing her arms to distract herself. “Shall we head inside?”
“Of course, duchess,” Raiden said, and led her into her new home.
For now, at least.
* * *
“You’re starting to like him,” Tasi said.
Indignation slid through Cera’s veins. She rounded on Tasi, eyebrows shooting up. “What? I am not.”
Exactly twenty-two days had passed since they arrived, and Cera had rather grown to like the royal suite she’d been given.
It was a collection of three rooms: a main sleeping area, another offshoot room for Tasi, and a very comfortable living space in the center.
Along the wall was a magically-refilling buffet (okay, it wasn’t magical, but Cera never saw the servants attending it, so it felt that way to her), which was her favorite part.
She shoved more potatoes onto her plate in a fit of rage. Based on their preparation, Cera was fairly sure this wasn’t a local delicacy, but she’d take any reminder of home.
“And what if I am?” Cera protested. “He’s getting closer to me. We both know why I’m here. Why shouldn’t I cozy up to the sexy duke with muscles like—”
“I get it,” Tasi interrupted, holding up a hand.
Cera leaned against the buffet table, squinting at Tasi. “Are you worried?” The serious question was lessened by the huge bite of potatoes she took, which made the statement sound more like: arru woooreed?
Tasi snorted. “About you and him? No.”
Cera squinted. “Is this about the library?”
“Oh, praise the Shining Eagle,” Tasi muttered. “I’ve gotten over the library. The one here is quite nice. They made the mistake of plating a few of the rarer tomes in gold, and Korvi’s been smuggling them out for me.”
“Oh, that’s why the librarian scheduled a meeting with Raiden,” Cera mused. A massive raven sticking his long beak through a library window to poke out shiny books would certainly warrant the warbird-riding duke’s attention.
Tasi waved a hand. “Irrelevant. The point is, Cera, you’re here for a reason.”
“I know, I know. Marry the duke, bear his warbird-riding children.” Cera smirked.
Tasi tapped her nose, glancing towards the doors. “Precisely. Stay focused.”
Fine. But she’d woo the duke after stuffing her face with questionably made potatoes.
* * *
On day thirty-one, Cera made progress. Raiden sent a letter to her door, requesting her presence in the forest beside the city. No warbirds, it said, with impeccable handwriting. Just us.
Sexy.
Cera dressed warm, although they’d recently been hit with a bout of sunny days.
But in Dalet, she could never be sure. She purposefully discarded her Ralianan clothes for a traditional Daletian cloak and dress, which was lined with thick wool and decorated in sewn patterns.
It wasn’t her style – dresses were highly impractical riding attire – but riding wasn’t the goal today.
Tasi patted her cheek and pulled a woolen hat over her hair and said, “Have fun. Try not to jump his bones.”
Be careful, was what she meant.
Cera smirked. “I’m fairly sure he’s too proper to allow that.”
We’ll see.
A guard escorted Cera downstairs, where the duke was waiting in the courtyard. He bowed deeply to her, his cheeks reddening as he assessed her Daletian garb. “You – ah, you look lovely, duchess.”
“Thank you,” she replied, dipping into a similar bow.
“And you appear rather dashing.” He was still wearing the ocarina for Pinske, but as far as Cera could tell, the owl hadn’t been summoned more than a handful of times since her arrival.
Meanwhile, Korvi perched on a parapet high above them, flapping his wings to gain Raiden’s attention.
“Korvi says to watch yourself,” Cera added coyly.
“Are you worried?” Raiden drawled, shielding his blue eyes as he squinted up at the raven.
Cera looped one arm through his. “Not when you’re around.”
They ventured into the forest. A path had been shoveled, and around them, snow melted. The droplets sounded like a lone instrument, musical and lovely as the drips plinked onto pine needles and rocks. It was a glimmering winter wonderland, and Cera was actually starting to see the beauty in it.
Behind them, a pair of guards trailed, far enough back to be nearly imperceptible. So, not really ‘just us,’ then, Cera thought in amusement. Probably, they were following to help if a bear or mountain lion attacked, but it certainly ruined the mood.
Raiden finally broke the silence, pausing at a tree carved with an X. “I captured my first bird here.”
“Pinske?” Cera asked.
Raiden waved a hand. “No, no. Not a warbird; Pinske and her ancestors always served my family. My mother, her father, his father…” Raiden rubbed the back of his neck. “But even warbird riders start with proper falconry.”
“An ancient sport,” Cera said, approvingly. “We have several skilled falconers in Raliana. Although we don’t… ah, capture… the birds.”
“Your forests sound far preferable. Is that the Shining Eagle’s influence? I imagine the birthplace of the first warbird would change the ecosystem?”
“His influence is everywhere,” Cera said honestly. “The birds, even the normal ones, are more intelligent, more responsive. They partner with our falconers to hunt, and choose to live in the mews we build. It’s an innate partnership.”
Raiden hesitated. “Is that how you’re able to ride Korvi without a saddle? Even under my control, I think Pinske might accidentally throw me.”
“Korvi would never drop me,” Cera said, laughing at the idea. “We have an agreement.”