Page 4 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens
“Hello, friend.” I whispered, unwrapping the meat I’d stolen. “I brought you dinner.”
The gray cat took a careful step forward, assessing his surroundings.
For a while, we sat behind the cherry tree enveloped in the darkness of this cold night. Silver—what I’d named the cat whenwe first met—settled in my lap after he quickly devoured his dinner.
The trees dropped their beautiful red and orange dresses, letting the wind carry them away, abandoning them before my feet. I picked up a leaf from the ground, studying its fire-like colors.
How could something so glorious exist in such a dark place?
My mind wandered, listening carefully to the tale of the garden—
“What do you savages want from me?” a painfully familiar voice grumbled.
Gods, no! Someone is here.I scrambled to my feet, preparing to face whoever decided that a walk in the garden was a good idea at midnight.
Thevoicesseemed to stop just a few feet away from me, behind the arc of the garden.
Please leave!I begged my intruders, yet they didn't follow my request. Apparently, whoever it was preferred my garden to the foolish ball in the palace and I could not even blame them.
Dozens of needles prickled my skin when the stranger's voice came in reply. His voice was as soft as velvet and as sharp as briar.
I could barely make out the conversation, as though my intruders spoke a different language. That would be impossible: there were only three languages used in our Kingdom, and I knew all of them to perfection—thanks to my tutors. Perhaps, I was too far.
I peeked out from behind the tree to see who was wandering this late at night. Despite the darkness, the gold patterns of the vest shone bright under the moonlight.
My heart threatened to leave my chest as my head flew back fromtheirview. It was the same arrogant man from the ball, and he was not alone.
Their hushed voices filled me with an odd feeling of paranoia I couldn’t make sense of.
Mother wouldn’t allow me into the council meetings anymore, but I was no fool. I knew people had gone missing in the last month; I knew about theVanishing Listshe kept.
I needed to get closer, I needed to know why the Royal garden—my garden—was the place they chose to meet in the dead of night.
Careful not to disturb the dry leaves underneath my steps, I took a step forward: just close enough to see their faces without abandoning the sanctuary of my tree. They both—the arrogant man and a woman I’d never seen before—seemed on edge. The frustration in his eyes shone bright.
His eyes... I’d never seen such abnormality in nature. His amber eyes reflected the moon light in this darkness like a nocturnal animal. My eyes traveled past him.
The woman by his side was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her youthful eyes were not quite right either: light brown and glowing just like his. Her copper hair shimmered in different shades of red; she—just like the man—neglected the dress code: her dark blue gown looked as though she’d walked out from the depths of the ocean.
“Roxanne.” The man snapped at the ocean woman. His hand touched hers in a kind of comfort I could not quite understand. “You’re making a mistake not believing our words.” He faced the dark silhouette: the figure wore a hood that completely covered their face.
I’d never heard such an accent before. The accent was quite beautiful: harsh but gentle all the same. The words flew in charming waves, as though they were delicate touches of piano and violin. The sound brought satisfaction to my ears, and I consumed every word with joy, despite my inability to fully understand them.
Focus!I chided myself for such an easy distraction.
The arrogant man spoke again. He talked so fast and quiet I could only catch a few words out of everything he’d said. Army, attacks, winter.
Army?My brows furrowed.Attacks?I shook my head, waiting for more when the mysterious silhouette’s voice reached my ears once again. “That won’t be necessary.” they bit out.
Where have I heard this voice before?
“Then we have nothing to talk about.” Roxanne drew out every word. Her tone left no room for an argument. She shared the accent of the arrogant man, though hers was softer.
The mysterious figure just hummed in reply, heading back towards the palace.
The strangers waited for a few moments before speaking: just staring at each other, as though they needn’t words to communicate. “You should go, Rox.” The arrogant man broke their silence.
The ocean woman looked as though she was about to protest, glaring at the man. After a long pause Roxanne shrugged—apparently she’d lost their silent argument—before turning to leave.
