He pushed the book a few inches away, grunting as he reached with his left hand to grab another heavy volume. Lyana moved to help, but he drew his breath in sharply, so she stopped, gaze darting to his right arm and the rounded end covered in black silk to match his coat. She dropped her hand gently back to the tabletop. As though nothing had happened, Xander hastily opened the cover and began sifting through the pages, searching for something, and there! He stopped with the book open on another map.
“Now,” he said, breathing out before drawing her attention to the illustration. “Look here, that same spot as the previous map, except the edge of the isle is now concave. The two edges don’t line up at all.”
Lyana knitted her brows and looked up at him. “A mistake, surely?”
“I thought so too at first,” he agreed, but pursed his lips, eyes sharp and focused. “Though that’s not the only difference. The others are just subtler. I’ve compared maybe a dozen maps from different cartographers across all different ages, and no two perfectly match.”
“What do you think it means?” she asked, genuinely confused about what he was suggesting.
Xander lifted his brows as a jovial smile widened his lips. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. But either our island has been getting smaller and smaller, slowly enough for no one to realize it, or we are in dire need of new mapmakers.”
Lyana leaned back. “Are you teasing me?”
“No.” An almost comical, horrified look passed over his face, sincere enough to make her trust his response. “No, not at all. I’m being serious. I noticed it before the courtship trials. I even put in a request with the House of Wisdom for access to their records, which should be far more accurate in size and scope than mine.”
“The House of Wisdom?” Lyana’s chest filled with a familiar sort of anticipation. “But they don’t lend their archives.”
“No, no, I’d have to make a trip, which shouldn’t be a problem now that the courtship trials are over,” he told her offhandedly, attention returning to his books.
Her reaction, however, was anything but casual. Lyana gasped and seized his forearm as her eyes popped, mind spinning with every sliver of information she’d ever heard about the great libraries of the owls and their underground maze of a home. “A trip! When? How soon? Have you been before? Oh, can we go, Xander? Can we?”
He started laughing before she’d even finished speaking. “Are you so eager to get out of here?”
Although his tone was playful, there was just enough honesty in that question to make her pause, and a dimming of his eyes made her wonder if her unenthusiastic attempts at being a proper princess had been shamefully transparent.
“Of course not,” she hastily responded.
Xander reached across the table and took her hand in his, gently grazing the tops of her fingers with his thumb, a yearning sort of touch that made her lift her chin to look at him, but his eyes were cast down. Before she could say any more, he pulled his hand away and walked to the window. Lyana followed with her eyes but felt stuck to the spot as she cradled the fingers he’d just abandoned to her chest, unsure why they tingled.
“You’ve been very patient with me, with my family, our customs and our plans this past week,” he said as he touched the window latch.
A wry grin appeared on her lips—patient was not a word that had ever been used to describe her—but she kept her mouth shut, almost afraid to interrupt as he turned the handle and slid the glass pane open. A gust of wind blew into the room. Invisible arms wrapped around Lyana’s waist, tugging her outside. She stumbled closer, unable to stop herself as her skirt flared and her feathers ruffled.
“I think maybe it’s time I return the favor,” Xander said, glancing over his shoulder before taking a single step back and leaping through the large window.
Lyana ran to the opening and stopped at the edge, certain this was a trick.
Xander hovered, onyx wings slick in the sun, eyes sparkling in the bright daylight. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Don’t we—” Lyana broke off before she could finish the sentence, shaking her head with disbelief. They were supposed to be meeting with the queen in half an hour. But if he didn’t mind being late, neither did she. “Yes!”
She dove out the window and snapped her wings wide, blood pumping as her body began to sing.
43
Rafe
If he hadn’t been in the practice yards waiting for the ever-tardy Cassi to arrive, he might not have heard Helen whistle, a high-pitched slow-quick-quick-quick sound that could only mean one thing. Rafe looked up, covering his brow to deflect the glare as he made out two figures zipping down from the top of the castle, racing toward the city on the other side of the wall—Xander and his princess.
Rafe flew over the lawn, landing at a run as he pushed his way through the circle of guards waiting for a command. “I’m coming.”
Helen glanced at him, not an ounce of surprise in her expression. “You, me, and…”
She pointed to two other guards but Rafe had returned his gaze to the two descending figures. It didn’t matter, anyway. Whoever else was coming would treat him just the same. And it wasn’t about the guards. It was about his brother—who was, at this moment, acting very much not like his brother. Xander rarely went anywhere unless the proper arrangements were made first, and unless his mother and the guards knew. He was the sole heir, and even though the seven houses were peaceful, and the royal family had no enemies they knew of, he still wasn’t supposed to travel alone—not when so many hopes and dreams and people relied on him.
“Come on,” Helen said as she secured a throwing knife to her belt and pumped her wings. “We’ll stick to the sky, give them a little privacy. But keep a watchful eye, just in case.”
Rafe and the two guards nodded. He felt almost naked going out without his twin blades, but they were resting on a table in his room where he’d left them the night before, and there was no time to retrieve them. Instead, he swiped a single sword from the collection, making sure it was sharp, before he followed the others.
By the time they were over the wall, Xander and Lyana had disappeared into the city streets, but it didn’t take long to find them. If the rising hum of conversation hadn’t been enough, the rush of movement certainly was. People running. People flying. All moving closer and closer to one fixed point—the main town square where a pair of ivory wings stood apart from the crowd, yet also its center.
Helen and the two guards remained high above the city, maintaining the aerial view, but Rafe shifted closer. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment. Maybe he was just being a diligent brother. Maybe it was a bit of both. But he found he couldn’t help but sink toward one of the rooftops circling the square, crouching out of sight as he searched for the best vantage point from which to watch the pair.
They were as happy as he’d ever seen them. Xander spun in circles, shaking people’s hands, introducing them to his new mate, laughing so hard he threw his head back, his whole body racked with mirth. And Lyana was right by his side, kneeling to accept the hugs children offered and threading the flowers they brought her through her hair. The crowd continued to grow and grow, but true to the House of Whispers, no one pushed, and no one shoved. They respected their prince and kept a ring around him, allowing Xander to approach them instead of the other way around. Still, it was an unusual day when the prince made a surprise visit to the town, especially with his new mate, and some of the ravens on the outskirts began to beat their wings for a few futile seconds to steal a quick glance as the couple walked by.