The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,129

dough was infused with bits of dried fruit, which mixed well with the salty flavor of the air. Elias remained still and staring. With a shrug, she popped the piece into her mouth.

"Suit yourself," Lyana murmured and curled her legs beneath her as she took a sip of tea, encouraged that he hadn't screamed or yelled or threatened violence. If she just kept talking, maybe he'd think they were in the lush halls of the crystal palace, not the dank dungeons of Da'Kin. Maybe she would too. "Will you tell me about Luka's mating ceremony? I tried to imagine what the palace looked like a hundred times, but the image keeps changing. His mate's feathers are auburn, if I remember correctly. And her name is Iris, right? I always wondered if they incorporated a few amethyst garlands to match the colors of her home, something I know my mother would understand. But I can't imagine Luka saying the vows in anything except the brilliant white and gold of our house. Aethios must've—"

"Don’t say his name," Elias interrupted darkly.

"Who? Aethios?"

"Don't," he growled, taking two steps forward, his body hunched and hulking. She wasn't afraid. This was what she'd expected. He was a warrior loyal to the House of Peace, and he would defend it until the bitter end. "You're an agent of Vesevios and I won't have you speak the name of Aethios, highest of them all."

"Whether I'm living here upon the sea or up above the clouds or in a place beyond the horizon that no one's ever seen, I'm a daughter of Aethios, Elias. I always will be. And I won't feel sorry for saying his name."

"You're not. You're—"

"I am," she cut him off, keeping her body relaxed on the cushions despite the sternness of her tone. The calmer she remained, the better. "Is there anything I can say to prove it to you?"

"No."

"Please, Elias." She tightened her grip on the teacup, releasing her frustration as her magic coiled beneath her skin. "Ask me any question, and I'll give you the answer."

"I don't believe your lies."

"I know that when you were fifteen you tried to kiss Cassi at the summer solstice ball and she nearly broke your nose." An uncertain groove dug into his forehead. She kept going. "Luka made fun of you for days, until you finally told him I kissed Theo the same night. Then I was the one who didn’t hear the end of it for weeks. All for an innocent peck on the lips!"

Lyana rolled her eyes and sighed, smiling slightly at the memory. Cassi hadn't even been sorry. It’d been another three years after that before Lyana had caught her kissing Luka in a weapons room off the side of the training arena. Now, that had been a shock.

"Oh, how about the first time you worked a night shift at the palace doors? You were trying to be a serious, disciplined guard. And you were doing a wonderful job, until Luka, Cassi, and I snuck out through the secret passage and spent the next hour making faces at you through the crystals. I've never seen your face so red. But you never tattled."

Lyana took a sip of tea and leaned farther back on the pillows, hardly even looking at Elias anymore, lost in the lightness of her youth. The past few months had been so heavy, the weight pressing down from all sides. It was nice to remember a time when life had been simple and carefree, when the worst she had to worry about was a not-so-stern lecture from her father or the sharp whip of her mother's wrath.

"Do you remember how excited we used to get when the front hall was open for market? This was before we could fly, of course. Only a handful of children lived in the palace, but on market days, everyone from Sphaira came to us. We used to run through the stalls, our laughter trailing behind. We used to hold hands, and spin and spin and spin, until we collapsed on the tiles, all giggles and downy feathers as we watched the adults soar overhead. I couldn’t wait to join them. I couldn't wait for the sky to be mine. I spent hours staring through the crystals, studying the clouds and the stars, the painted pastels of sunrise and the vivid streaks of sunset, endlessly waiting for the day when I could fly beyond the horizon, to just go and go and go, with no palace