The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,43

palm to represent the gift their house had brought—wood, as was tradition. The bulk of their offering had already been stored in the warehouses on the outer isle, so this piece was just for show, as befitted the parade.

The two princesses flew slowly but with purpose. When they crossed the first third of the entry hall, the song that had announced their entrance burst forth again, with a rising and falling whistle, as the rest of their party soared into view in a flurry of bright colors and even brighter sounds. Red wings. Blue wings. Orange wings. Yellow wings. So many different feathers fluttered together, moving this way and that, a cacophony of color. The walls reverberated with their song, which filled the entire space as their voices echoed, colliding, chaotic yet controlled. High pitches and low tones followed in an arrangement Lyana couldn’t recognize, yet instantly loved. The two princesses were perfectly poised, as if unaware of what was going on behind them. There was a pattern in the mess, an organization in the hurried movements and flowing notes, in the highs and lows, in the dance and the song.

Lyana's mother sighed, her lips moving ever so slightly as the softest chime sifted through them. Her wings were still, but Lyana recognized the itch ruffling through her feathers—the ache to rise and join and soar. These were her mother’s people. This song was her song. And the bluebird inside her longed to get out, just for a few moments, to be with her flock once more.

But she was Queen of the House of Peace now. A dove, no matter what wings she possessed. And she remained on her throne—a sacrifice all the second-born royals in this gathering understood.

A sacrifice Lyana herself would soon know.

The princesses came to a stop before the dove thrones and landed gently on the floor, dropping into a low bow with their offerings held high. The song drew to an end as they rose, one single note holding steady until the princesses joined in and the rest of the voices faded away. The two girls sang proudly for what seemed like an impossibly long time before swiftly coming to a close and allowing a soft echo to linger.

The King of the House of Song stood from his throne, deep crimson cardinal wings stretching wide as he gestured toward his daughters. He was her mother’s brother, and the two girls were Lyana’s cousins, though they had never met. But she knew their names before he spoke them. She’d read about them in her mother’s letters—something she wasn’t supposed to do but, usually with Cassi’s help, did anyway.

“May I present Corinne Erheanus, born of the god Erhea, Crown Princess of the House of Song. And her sister, Elodie Erheanus, born of the god Erhea, Princess of the House of Song.”

As the king spoke, his daughters remained still, tall with wings wide, skin a soft peach like her mother’s. Corinne proudly displayed a brilliant ruby ring on her finger, the royal seal of her house. But Lyana was drawn to her sister, unable to glance away from the brilliant green eyes sparkling in the shadows of Elodie’s mask, eyes that reminded her of her own. It was almost strange in a way, to see a bit of herself in someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a stranger.

“May we gift our offering to the god Aethios in the name of Erhea, god of the love that exists between mates and kin,” the songbird king continued. “Wood from our homeland to keep the House of Peace warm, and our gratitude for all that you sacrifice on our behalf in serving our god Aethios, the highest of them all.”

The princesses quietly placed each of their logs in the long basket at the base of the dais where Lyana sat with her family and took their seats on the empty thrones to either side of their parents. The rest of their house followed.

In the silence, the anticipation of the next arrival grew, the buzz of whispers and wondering, as the door at the other end of the entrance hall swung open again.

Eight birds flew in—four with relatively simple brown-and-tan feathers, the females, and four with iridescent hues shimmering in the firelight of the hall, the males. It was, of course, the House of Paradise. They were the only house where extra feathers were common, either tail feathers jutting out from their backs just below their wings or a ring of