Page 122 of The Beast King's Bride

Sparrows hop around on the ground where I’ve scattered a few breadcrumbs, but they fly away when a larger bird comes fluttering down.

A raven.

I go still where I’m sitting on a low stone bench. It looks like… but it can’t be. How long do ravens live?

It seems they live quite a few years because there is no mistaking this one, the white tuft on its head, the intelligent, curious gaze.

“Poe?” I whisper, torn between joy and suspicion.

He hops over to me and cocks his head to the side, watching me with a beady eye.

“Whose bidding are you doing now?” I ask him. “Talen’s? Or the Empress’s? Well, you can tell both that I’m done with Faerieland. I’m home now. Go tell them. Go!”

After a long moment, he flies away and I bury my face in my hands.

When will home start feeling like home? Talen’s palace with its monsters and maze of corridors had become my home after a few scant weeks, and here I am, after months of being in my world, and I still don’t feel at ease.

And I know… I know it was Talen himself who made the palace feel like home—and that’s another question. How long will it take to get over him, at last? To bury him with this ring and walk away?

Poe returns over the days that follow. He doesn’t linger, and it’s not like I’m sharing any important information with him, so after a while, I get used to him and don’t mind if he perches on the bench next to me as I sit there and think, or on my shoulder as I work on the vegetable patch.

He caws sometimes when a thorn pierces my skin and I curse, or when I sing some half-forgotten tune I learned in the palace kitchens. No other birds come when he’s around, even though I’ve placed a big bowl with water for them to bathe in, and I’m not sure how I feel about that, but his presence is comforting. After all, he was my friend almost as long as Pete. It’s good to have him back.

Everything is the same, day after day—normal, and safe, and reassuringly boring. Pete is working on a pair of sandals for me, for when summer comes, and I make onion pickles and jam. The days stretch, busy and yet empty, easy and yet uneasy.

It’s a beautiful sunny day and Poe is perched on my shoulder as I weed out the vegetable patch when it happens.

Having Poe on my shoulder isn’t a problem anymore as Pete has made me a pair of leather epaulets and the claws don’t bother me. That was after Pete laughed himself hoarse over my choice of friends and received a sharp elbow to his ribs. I think it was guilt that prompted the gift.

“Do you still report to Talen?” I ask the raven at one point when I stop to wipe the sweat off my brow. “Or did you retire now that I’m back here?”

He caws in response, and I sure wish I could speak ravenish. Poe sounds unhappy, though, and yes, that’s ridiculous.

“Is he all right? Does he tell you anything or only uses you as a magical mirror reporting to him what goes on? Does he speak to you like I do?”

Another caw.

“Splendid. This conversation is going splendidly.” Inexplicably, I want to cry and laugh at once. “I still worry, you see, like the stupid human I am. I worry for him. And I want to know if he managed to lift the curse. If he beat the monsters. If he’s alive and well. Is that too much to ask of a man who shared my bed, who—”

I have to break off or really burst out crying. Not an option. Pete is right inside the house and I don’t want him to think I’m a crazy woman, still pining over a strange Fae king. I want him to think I’m over Talen, that I’m doing okay.

And generally, I am. I function. I eat, I sleep, I talk, I laugh, I work in the garden, I cook.

Only inside, I’m really not okay and it’s not something I want anyone to know. Maybe if I pretend long enough, it will become true.

“I mean, how can I check on Talen?” I go on, grabbing another weed and pulling. “I don’t have ravens reporting to me. Even if he’d allow me to find out how he is. Last time he made it pretty clear he doesn’t want to see me again, but just for my peace of mind, you know, right, Poe? Just to say, he’s okay, and doesn’t need me, and that…” I swallow hard. “That is horrible, and it will break my heart all over again, but I think not knowing is even worse.”

Let’s face it, it’s terrible either way.

I sit back on my heels and wonder once again what I am doing with my life. Obsessing over Talen when he doesn’t care for me.

Enough, I tell myself. This is finally enough. You can’t go on like this, always pining and worrying. You have to forget.

But as I walk by the birdbath, its surface like glass, reflecting the placid blue sky, I think I see an image inside.

I stop in my tracks and bend over the water.

A mirror, I think. It shows me my face, thinner and more haggard than I expected, eyes dark-rimmed, chestnut hair tangled around my face.

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