No need to be a grump, Lyana thought, fighting the desire to cross her arms and frown. Yes, she’d fibbed a little. Yes, she’d let him believe she was someone else. Yes, she’d wanted to shock him. But really, the least he could do was pretend to be thrilled, just a bit, just a smidge. Wasn’t he happy to see her? Wasn’t this a good surprise? Wasn’t he relieved, like she had been when she’d discovered who he was?
Alas, even from across the room she could see the taut muscles in his neck as his jaw clenched. If he wasn’t careful, she might be tempted to see what the hummingbird prince was all about after all.
At least he knows how to make a girl feel special, she huffed, snatching her gaze from the raven prince as her father stood, spreading his wings and his arms.
“The House of Peace thanks you and your gods for these kind offerings. We will present them to Aethios in the hope that he will show his favor with a gift of his own.”
Lyana glanced at Luka. Together they stood, leaped from the dais in unison and landed on either side of the offering basket. This moment was the most important one of the night, and she wouldn’t let any prince sour it for her. Instead, she fastened a smile on her lips and gripped the handle tightly, lifting the basket with her brother as they took to the air once more. They carried the offerings over the royal dais and through the doors behind, which had silently opened as her father spoke.
The sacred nest.
Lyana filled her lungs with the power that lingered in this hall. Behind them, the doors to the atrium slid shut with a click. Before them, the golden gate of the nest loomed. A priestess stood with a key, waiting until they landed before slipping the small door at the base of the gilded bars open to welcome them and their gifts inside.
No matter how many times Lyana walked into this room, she was still in awe. The towering crystal dome. The trees and vines and flowers draped over every surface. The chirps of hundreds of doves housed in the nest. And most of all, the orb floating in the center of the room, a few feet off the ground, alight with a glow nearly as bright as the sun, touching every spot around it, pulsing with an energy Lyana could feel in her core—the power of Aethios. His god stone thrummed with the same sparkling magic that ran through her veins. Some swore it was silver, others gold, others a mix of the two, but whichever the case, the orb thrummed with might. Every house had a stone, but his was the most powerful—his was the arch stone keeping their world high among the clouds and safely in his realm.
Lyana and Luka gently placed the basket on the ground and knelt, dipping their foreheads to the floor and spreading their wings as a show of devotion. Five more priests and priestesses appeared from the hidden depths of the grove, removing the offerings and placing them beneath the god stone. She knew she was supposed to keep her head down and her eyes closed. She knew she wasn’t supposed to look. But she couldn’t help it.
Lyana peeked.
Her gaze slid across the ground to Aethios’s chosen. They hid their feet beneath layers of heavy, draping robes, so they almost appeared to float across the ground, although Lyana knew they couldn’t fly. They were wingless. They were the mighty few Aethios himself had selected to live within his shrine and serve him in the holiest of roles—blessing everyone else with the gift they’d been denied.
It was hard to imagine that she, too, had once been completely human, a babe only a few hours old, not a feather to her name. But they were all born that way, and then they were brought here, to the sacred nest, where Aethios would select a bird from his collection to fuse with their body, giving them wings. The priests and priestesses were the conduits of his power—that was their gift. They’d never know the sky, but they were god-touched. If their gift felt anything like using her magic, Lyana imagined they were honored to have been chosen.
She kept watching as they arranged the presents in a circle around the god stone, each carefully situated where the isle that had offered it would be. The aura emanating from the stone pulsed, growing brighter, and the edges of the smooth crystal began to spark and sizzle. Aethios was pleased.
The priests and priestesses reached into their pockets and lifted a small polished crystal. They placed their free palms against the god stone, bodies jerking as the potent current of Aethios’s might coursed through them, heads snapping toward the sky, pupils rolling into the backs of their heads, elated smiles passing over their lips. A golden halo began to shine from beneath their robes as the crystals in their palms lit with a hidden fire, clear centers turning murky and then brilliant as Aethios’s power settled in. After a few moments, the priestesses snapped the connection, but the spark in the stones remained.
Lyana swiftly closed her eyes and returned her forehead to the floor, aware she’d moved slightly out of position as she’d watched. The priests and priestesses placed the six blessed stones in the basket. Five of them disappeared back into the forests of the nest, little more than spirits among the birds. One remained, pressing two fingers to the top of Luka’s head and then Lyana’s, the sign that it was time for them to go. Not saying a word, she led them back to the gate and opened it just long enough for the two of them to soar through.
They flew to the other end of the hall but didn’t make eye contact until they stopped, hovering before the door into the main atrium. Luka lifted his hand to knock, but paused, finding Lyana’s gaze.
“Did you look?” he whispered ever so softly, a certain gleam in his eye.
Lyana returned the gleeful expression, raising a brow even though he couldn’t see it beneath her mask. “Didn’t you?”
The softest laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head and drummed his knuckles against the door. By the time they reentered the atrium, he was the crown prince once more—lips folded in an inscrutable line, eyes focused, mood stoic. Lyana tried to copy him, but there was just too much joy tumbling through her, and she wanted to hold on to that little thrill of mischief, that vivacity of youth.
As she lifted her three stones from the basket, she didn’t glance toward the grouch still frowning in the corner, even as her head longed to turn in his direction. Instead, she soared straight to the hummingbirds, presenting their crown prince with his god-touched stone, a sign of Aethios’s blessing to his people, and met Prince Damien’s grin with one of her own. She flitted to her next suitor, the puffed-up crown prince of the House of Paradise, whose emerald neck feathers ruffled with appreciation as she handed him his gift. And then she gave her final stone to the crown prince of the House of Wisdom, liking how his owl wings reminded her of her best friend, enjoying the shy gratitude in his dark brown eyes.
Lyana didn’t spare a glance toward the House of Whispers, even as Lysander’s burning gaze darted in her direction, almost like a touch she could sense without looking.
Two can play at that game, she thought, pointedly keeping her face turned forward. Princess Lyana Aethionus chased after no man. After all, why would she when it would be oh, so easy to get him to chase after her?
21
Rafe
Rafe shook his head a little, trying to clear his mind as the princess before him spoke about something—what, he wasn’t exactly sure, but something.
Focus.
Think about Xander.
This is for him.