Page 98 of Kingdom of Feathers

“DON’T TOUCH HER!”

The roar from King Lloyd made them both jump. Basil dropped his hand from Wren’s arm like he’d been burned.

“I have been too tolerant,” the Mistran growled, looking anything but. “Guards, seize them. Both of them!”

Basil’s eyes widened, and not because of the guards who surged forward to grab his arms. “You’re going to arrest your own daughter?” he protested, staring at the king.

“What?” Wren’s father looked angrier than ever. “Of course not.” He turned his gaze to the guards hovering in confusion just behind Wren. Most of them were eyeing the swans that had gathered around the princess, honking angrily, at the suggestion of her arrest. “Seize Sir Gelding as well,” King Lloyd clarified.

“But, Your Majesty!” spluttered Sir Gelding, as the guards dragged him to stand right beside Basil. “I haven’t done anything to—”

“Silence.” King Lloyd made a gesture of finality with his hand, and the enchanter cut off mid-protest.

Basil, who had made no protest, drew several deep breaths, trying to remain calm in spite of the firm grip of the guards on his arms. Attempting to place himself in King Lloyd’s position, he acknowledged that the older king was wise to recognize that he needed to collect himself before going further. Basil could even see the sense in throwing both suspects into the dungeons and sorting it out when heads were cooler. But it was a touch problematic that one suspect was a visiting king. Already Basil could see his own guards struggling through the crowd toward him, and he knew that they all stood on the edge of a cliff, moments from another incident like the one that had ignited war between the two kingdoms in the first place.

Before he could decide what to do or say, Wren once again threw herself forward, her swans clicking their beaks uneasily as they followed. Except this time she didn’t attack the baronet. Instead she placed herself in front of Basil, glaring up at her father. In a gesture as clear as any words, she pointed at Basil, shaking her head, then pointed furiously at Sir Gelding, held at Basil’s side by the guards.

“We will speak of it later, Wren,” said King Lloyd, his anger still close to the surface. With a nod to the guards, he turned his back on the whole group, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly. Shocked mutters swept across the crowd like wind in dry grass, and the guards looked at each other helplessly. They were probably wondering if they were really supposed to drag a foreign king to the dungeons.

“When will you learn not to interfere?” Sir Gelding’s hiss was so quiet, Basil actually had to lean sideways to hear it. Wren, who was still silently attempting to protest Basil’s arrest, looked around, taking a moment to grasp that the enchanter was speaking to her. “If only that petty fool hadn’t gone rogue and ruined the plan, you wouldn’t be my problem.”

“What does that mean?” growled Basil, his eyes narrowing as they rested on the enchanter.

Sir Gelding ignored him. With malice dripping from every word, he pinned Wren with a glare. “How does it feel to know your brothers were never the target?” he breathed, his words less than a whisper but still seeming to hold Wren in thrall. “That they died inyourplace? The attack was never meant to start full scale war. It was only ever aimed at the unnecessary extra princess no one would be willing to start a true war over.”

Basil caught the briefest glimpse of Wren’s horrified shock before red filled his vision. Sir Gelding’s manner infuriated him almost as much as his words—he clearly meant to deal Wren an unendurable wound, and he just as clearly saw her as no threat, with no chance the monarchs or anyone else would believe a word the supposedly addled princess tried to communicate.

A low growl began to build in Basil’s throat, and in the corner of his eye, he saw King Lloyd turn. Although no one but Basil had heard the enchanter’s taunts, the king had apparently realized that something was happening with the prisoners. But Basil had no opportunity to act on the rage that had him in its grip, because someone else beat him to it.

Wren’s swans had stuck close by her side throughout the whole exchange, and Sir Gelding was suddenly engulfed by beaks and feathers. A chorus of enraged trumpeting filling the room as many pairs of wings flapped furiously around him. Startled, the guards released the enchanter and stepped back, covering their faces with their arms. Basil could understand why. From Sir Gelding’s cries of pain, the swans were doing more than just flapping their wings at him. Basil could only be grateful that the birds had forced Sir Gelding far enough away from Basil and Wren that they were clear of the melee.

“Enough with these ridiculous birds!” King Lloyd shouted, descending from the dais at last. “Why are the prisoners still here?” He shot a furious look at the guards. “And why have you released Sir Gelding? I will have order in my castle. Get the swans off him—kill them if you must.”

Basil saw Wren start forward, her warm skin blanching in horror. Her eyes were terrified as they flicked between her father and the swans, who continued to pummel Sir Gelding mercilessly, in spite of the guards advancing on them with raised spears. Basil was struggling against the guards’ continued hold on his arms, hardly knowing what he intended beyond keeping Wren out of harm’s way, when he felt an invisible ripple pass over the room. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and from the gasps around him, everyone else had felt it, too. He heard sharp cries from both the Entolian magic-users in the room, but he didn’t turn to look at them. He was much too busy staring at the unbelievable sight before him.

Wren’s swans had all collapsed to the floor with trumpets of alarm, and were writhing on the polished wooden surface. Except that their trumpets were turning into shouts, and their figures were growing, elongating, changing.

Basil’s mouth fell open in astonishment as the six swans became six young men before his eyes, white feathers rippling and disappearing, and warm brown skin taking their place. Their clothes were fine, but ill-fitting, muscles bulging from overly tight sleeves, several inches of leg showing below some of their leggings. He saw Wren’s dark eyes on one man, her straight nose on another, the determined chin she’d inherited from her father on more than one.

The men pushed themselves to their feet, examining their own bodies with cries of delight before rushing as one to engulf the princess. Basil caught the briefest glimpse of Wren’s face—tears pouring freely down it—before she disappeared in their midst.

He remained rooted to the spot, barely able to take it in.

Finally, the mystery of the swans was answered. They weren’t the attempt of a damaged mind to replace the princess’s murdered brothers. Theywereher brothers.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Wave after wave of shock rolled over Wren as she was enfolded in the many arms of her brothers. She reached out, trying to grasp all of them at once, hardly able to believe they were real. There’d been no time for a good look at any of them, but there were clearly no twelve-year-olds here. Six strong, whole,humanmen surrounded her, each calling her name in excitement, gripping her arms, ruffling her hair in a very undignified way. One of them even dropped a kiss on the top of her head. She was fairly sure it was Averett, but she doubted she’d ever get him to admit it.

“It’s the same time of day, Wren,” said Ari excitedly, his voice identifying the tall young man as the brother she knew. “It was in the morning, wasn’t it? It must have been exactly this time of day when we were cursed! That’s why dawn was no good.”

Wren laughed in amazement, wondering why she hadn’t thought of that possibility earlier. Suddenly, the mass of writhing limbs stilled, and the sea of brothers parted. Looking past them, Wren saw what had caused them all to stop. Her parents were frozen, staring at their seven children with expressions that cut Wren to the heart. It was the same intensity of emotion she remembered from that terrible day, six years before, almost as if the joy of seeing their sons alive was too potent to settle easily into happiness.

“Caleb?” Queen Liana whispered. Her eyes passed over them all in turn. “Averett? Bram? Conan? Lyall? Ari?” Wren saw the tears begin to well as her mother realized all of her sons truly were there, alive and human. Then she fell on the group, and they all embraced her in turn, laughing and crying themselves.

Wren’s eyes slid past the chaos, settling on Basil’s motionless form. His gaze passed suddenly to hers, and the shock in his eyes made her grin. She raised a careless shoulder as if to say,so that’s what that was about, and a smile built slowly on his face as well. She kept watching him in silence while her family talked excitedly all around her, waiting for the realization to hit him that the barrier of her being her father’s heir no longer stood between them.

All at once, he got it. She saw the moment it happened, and his eyes lit with a sudden fire that seemed to reach across the room and blaze right into her soul. She felt her cheeks flame with it, but she held his gaze, a tentative smile on her face. Stepping forward, away from the guards who had released him in their shock, Basil put a hand to his heart, his face shining as he raised a single eyebrow. Laughing a little, and feeling strangely shy, Wren nodded. She saw him draw a shaky breath, and her smile grew.

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