The Raven and the Dove (The Raven and the Dove #1) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,88

knocked walked to Lyana, removed her sleeping garments, and pushed her through a door she hadn’t yet noticed. A bath had already been drawn for her.

“I’m—” Before Lyana could finish speaking, a bucket of warm water was poured over her head, drowning the words.

“I can—” Another bucket came.

“Please—” She started again, but the raven girl’s lips were drawn with quiet determination, and Lyana knew better than to try to stop her. Clearly, the queen had ordered she be prepared, and prepared she would be. The only time she piped up was when they began attacking her hair with brushes that snagged and caught in her voluminous curls, eliciting a hiss of pain. Lyana used her fingers instead, yearning for the combs hidden somewhere in her travel trunks, and quickly twirled a large bun on the crown of her head to keep the strands out of her eyes if she flew.

Through it all, Cassi slept, still wearing her heavy flying leathers from the day before but looking cozier than Lyana.

She eyed her friend enviously as a violet dress was pulled over her waist, tied around her neck, and topped with a creamy overcoat to keep the exposed skin around her wings warm. The House of Whispers was much balmier than her home, but the morning air was still brisk as it fluttered in through curtains she’d forgotten to close the night before. The sliver of sky visible through that opening was more enticing than ever, but before she could get any ideas, the raven girl led her from the room.

The halls of the castle were wide and high, yet the dark, opaque stone made Lyana yearn for the crystal palace she called home. This was a maze of twists and turns and steps and doors, designed for walking instead of flying, nothing like the open atrium she’d grown up in. By the time she was deposited in the dining hall, Lyana was so confused she could hardly tell up from down, let alone how to return to her rooms.

Xander immediately stood when she walked in, offering her a bow. Queen Mariam merely looked up, taking a brief moment to inspect Lyana’s attire before returning to the parchment in her hand. For her part, Lyana tried to smile, but her mood only soured further when her eyes landed on the piles and piles of books stacked between the plates of food. She spared a longing glance at the sky outside the windows flanking the hall before taking a seat beside the queen.

“I hope you slept well,” Xander said cheerily.

“I did,” Lyana replied with a forced smile, fighting her unease.

The silence stretched on, serving only to remind her how different her new life would be. Back home, breakfast was grabbing a bit of fruit on her way to Cassi’s room, fluttering any which way she chose, exchanging teasing remarks with Luka, enduring the occasional lesson, all while being surrounded by the invisible presence of love, a tender sort of quality in the air she’d never even noticed until now—when it was nowhere to be found.

The air in this room was stuffy and cold, and it had nothing to do with the temperature.

Lyana cleared her throat.

“Would it be possible for my friend to join us tomorrow?” she asked lightly, trying not to betray how much more at ease Cassi's presence would make her feel.

“I’m afraid not,” the queen responded, the authority in her voice almost reminding Lyana of her own mother—a woman who could see right through her. But while her mother often chided her, affection always lingered in the soft edges of her words. Here there were only sharp sentences, clipped, precise and not to be questioned. “In this castle, breakfast is shared only with family.”

“She’s like a sister to me,” Lyana countered, turning toward Xander unintentionally, her thoughts going to a different raven, one she’d feared to find here. “A sibling, surely…”

Xander winced.

At the same time, the heat in the queen’s glare pierced the periphery of Lyana's vision, striking like an arrow.

Lyana swallowed the rest of her words. She didn’t really know her mate at all—they came from two different worlds, one of ravens, another of doves—and she was starting to understand that their differences ran much deeper than mere feathers. Who was this family she’d chosen to join? Where two brothers could switch identities for their most sacred ritual, but couldn’t dine at the same table? With a mother who seemed colder than the tundra she’d left behind? Who lived in