39. Paris

Iwoke up alone and flopped onto my back, staring at the canopy above me. Brett said he'd join me in Urial, but... well, he'd never wanted that.

I'd be an imposition, taking him away from his people. And still, I couldn't help a swell of relief at the idea that he'd be there with me. If Hector and Helena were in danger and unable to help, I realized with a start that I trusted Brett more than I trusted anyone else in Urial.

Another complicated pang twisted through my chest before Brett opened the door carrying a tray laden with something delicious.

"Good morning," he said quietly, as I shuffled my way back onto the headboard to sit up straighter. "How are you feeling?"

I blinked, remembering too slowly that I'd been sick—deathly ill, apparently—only a couple days ago.

"Fine. Overwhelmed and worried, but physically, just... antsy, I suppose."

He nodded, settling the tray in my lap before crawling into bed beside me. Nobody'd ever brought me breakfast in bed before—or, well, Dad would when I was sick as a child, but not like this. Not a lover.

"Thank you," I said, looking down at the tray and all the bacon and eggs and hotcakes. "For this, I mean."

Brett looked pleased but shook his head. "All Rosaline's doing."

"I'll thank her too then, but I'm fairly certain your legs carried it up the stairs."

He shrugged. How strange, for him to not demand recognition for everything he did.

"Killian arrived this morning. He's the Crane?—"

My lips twitched. "I remember Killian. With the incredibly long white hair. So many feathers..." I reached over and brushed one of the brownish gold feathers in Brett's hair. "I assumed they were part of your faith, and now, well, I didn't suddenly sprout feathers. Can you tell me what they're about?"

Brett's brows pinched, his lips turned down. "They're for people we've lost."

"Oh..." I wasn't sure what to say to that, and my thoughts drifted to my father, to his funeral and to the aftermath, when Helena and I were cloistered away in our grief.

The Nemedans carried their grief with them every day, wore it publicly, and still, it didn't define them. How would it feel, to be so whole all the time and not be expected to tuck your feelings away for propriety's sake?

I didn't have the luxury to think about it right then, because if I didn't get home, I'd lose more than just my father.

Brett's expression softened, the tension going out of his cheeks as he twisted at the waist to set his hand on my leg. "Killian's offered to travel with us to Urial. I think we should take him up on it. He's a fine warrior and knows how to handle hostile people. There's no one I'd trust more to help deal with anything we might face."

I nodded. Strangely, I didn't need to consider it. If Brett thought including Killian was the right move, I didn't doubt him.

My gaze drifted to the pile of my trunks against the wall. "I don't know what to do with my things," I admitted, biting my lip.

Was I meant to take them with me?

Brett looked over. In truth, all the trunks but the one I'd begun to pack the night before were piled against the wall, empty. My things had been put away; Clio's were gone. The space had become... well, I couldn't say that it was mine, but I didn't mind the idea of that. My chest throbbed at the notion of packing up and leaving.

When Brett looked back at me, it was with calm resolve. "It'll be faster to fly, and we can't bring anything with us. If you'd like, we could send trunk after us, or we can send back for your things if you decide to stay."

The way he said it hung in the air, and I wasn't sure how to reply. Urial was my home, but Nemeda—I had a fucking owl inside me. I didn't know how to handle that or what I owed Nemeda in terms of keeping secrets.

Hard enough to live in Urial with a preference for men; how could I keep a secret like this too?

Before I could figure that out, I needed to make sure my family was safe and well. If we lost Hector too—well, neither Helena nor I had much value to the crown, as far as I could tell. Things would get very difficult, very quickly, especially if King Albany had a vendetta against me.

"But when we shift back—" I started, grimacing. We couldn't very well fly to Urial and drop out of the sky, naked at the palace doors.

At that, a smile finally cracked Brett's face. "The messengers and runners who've been carrying your letters?"

I nodded, sure that I was missing something with the sharp way his eyes glittered at me.

"They're fast, aren't they?" he asked.

Well, yes, though I hadn't thought about it too specifically. If they went directly back and forth from Urial, they could've managed in the time between when we saw them, but it suddenly occurred to me that they covered a much greater distance, traveling around all of Nemeda in the court of a week or two.

"They fly?" I asked, awed.

"Unless they're carrying large packages, but yes, usually. There are caches of clothes and supplies all across Nemeda and on the Urial border. We will have to travel by horse for some of it, won't be able to just land naked in the middle of a village, but we can cut down on some of the time, if you're all right leaving your things behind for now."

I nodded. Nothing I'd brought with me to Urial, no matter how critical it'd seemed to bring with me, mattered more than my family.

"The Montagues," I said. "Hector and I stayed with them on the way to Nemeda."

"He came with you?"

"He did. He... thought it would be better for me to stand on my own than under his wing. He turned around before the border, but he traveled with me for most of the way. The Montagues were kind and generous. I think they would help if I asked."

Brett nodded. "Perhaps they'll be able to shed some light on what's happening at the capital."

I bit my lip. "I hope so."

Surely Hector couldn't be that sick. It was impossible to think about. He'd been feverish and half out of his mind when he'd learned how to take apart and reassemble our family suite's door lock. Nothing took him down for long.

Whatever this was, perhaps Helena was simply struggling to keep up with it on her own, and that alone was reason enough to go to her.

I could only hope that King Albany had some sympathy for my sister's need. Surely being in the company of the Nemedans would assure him I hadn't abandoned my duty, whatever else had happened since then.