Page 169 of The Fallen Fae King

I splash through a puddle, grimacing.

Elatha’s notes about Aurelius had been simple but filled with concern for me and praise for Aurelius.

The King is keeping his promises to the featherglass.

The King has housed us in the barracks. He has stopped any mistreatment.

The King insisted that we were paid the same as the other mercenaries. We are under his protection.

“Maybe she should marry the King,” I mutter.

I stroke over the golden dragon ring that Aurelius placed on my finger yesterday.

I’m not sure how I feel about seeing the dragon ring sitting next to Da’s Rebirth Ring.

What would Da and Ma feel about me wearing the ring of the people who killed them right next to their own?

My oppressors?

Yet didn’t Aurelius explain that it was from the forgotten generation? One without war?

I never thought that Aurelius, out of everyone, would promote that. He never stops talking about the benefits of empire bringing order.

Maybe he’s truly changing.

I hope so because the notes from my best friend are also filled with my featherglasses’ restlessness for their lost forests, which have been their home for a decade. Yet they have also settled into Aurelius’ world in a way that I didn’t expect.

It hurts.

I mustn’t show them that. They don’t deserve to feel guilty.

They haven’t eaten or slept this well, without fear of attacks or death, since the moment that the Winter Court burned.

Bai has never known what peace feels like.

They haven’t spent this long without being hunted or ambushed.

Why couldn’t I have done better by them?

Experiencing everything that the dragons have to offer, do they resent me? That I didn’t surrender sooner and kept fighting?

But I did my bloody best. I kept them alive like my parents wanted.

I sigh, blinking up at the raven as she caws loudly. “Go on then. Give them the signal.”

I stare at the high white building in front of me, which must be the army barracks.

The raven flaps up to the window, cawing three times, before flying away into the velvet sky.

I glance up and down the street, listening hard.

I can’t hear anything but the thumping of my heart.

No footfalls, no patrolling guards, no cries of alarm.

Suddenly, there is a slithering sound like an uncoiling snake. Then something hits the top of my head.

I bite back my hiss of pain.