Eight

My body feels lighter, but my thoughts are anything but. I gaze at the ceiling while idly tracing designs on the silk sheets with my fingers.

Everything was a mess tonight. Every look, every sigh, every unsaid tension that surrounded the huge ballroom continues to replay in my head. Then—him.

The Duke who did not show up. The man who replaced him. That unexpected face.

I shift to my side, groaning, and clutch the blankets with my fingers. Why am I thinking about that? The end of the night should be a relief to me. But here I am, anxious.

The king never let his feelings show so readily, but after reading that letter, his face took on a shape that I couldn't quite understand. Surprised? Fury? Joy? No. It was something really different, something odd.

I watched him hesitate for the first time. The king. Control was always in the hands of this man who never faltered and who always had an answer. But he hesitated at what was said in that letter.

I roll onto my back and look up at the ceiling, feeling irritated. What on earth was said by the Duke? How could the king—him—have reacted in that way?

I bite the corner of my lip. A declaration of war was not made. If it had been, the king would not have sat there paralyzed like that but would have responded immediately. Nor was it a straightforward rejection. A simple "I won't attend" would not have given him that impression.

So what did the duke say? What could possibly shake a man like my father?

None of this has ever interested me. To me, the politics, power struggles, and shifting alliances have always been pure noise. I have spent years avoiding court affairs, distancing myself from the schemes and betrayals. But I'm curious for the first time tonight.

Why didn't the duke come?

Was it really just an insult, a blatant slap in the king's face? Or was there something more? 

For a man like Duke Raven, every move must have a purpose. He is not careless, nor does he act on whims. He doesn't show himself, doesn't waste words, doesn't do anything without reason. 

So what was his reason for this?

Above all, I was excited—far more than I should have been. It was supposed to be the first time I'd see him. I'd never caught even a glimpse of the man before, only heard the rumors passed between the maids. The way they spoke of him, it was as if they were describing a monster. A predator.

And in my mind, I had shaped him into exactly that. Sharp, monstrous, something not quite human. A figure carved from fear itself. 

But then… he didn't come.

And I felt relieved.

Was I scared? Afraid of seeing the man behind the legend? Maybe. Maybe I didn't want to put a real face to the stories, didn't want to know if the monster was real or if he was something worse. 

Tap tap tap.

I freeze, my body stiffening as the sound echoes through the quiet room.

Where did it come from? Is someone at the door? The windows?

It wasn't the wind, it was too rhythmic. I glance around, my heart beating a little faster. There's no one in the room, nothing out of place. Just me.

Could it be…?

No, I can't be imagining it. That sound. It's real.

I remain still, searching for any traces of the sound, but it seems as though everything has fallen silent once more. The bed feels too comfortable, and the quiet is so peaceful now, I almost forget the strange tap.

I'm a lazy person. Doing nothing is still a kind of work. Maybe that's why I'm so damn tired. 

I just want to sleep.

Sleep sounds good.

Just as my eyelids grow heavy, and a yawn escapes my lips, stretching my body in lazy surrender to sleep— 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

My breath catches. My body stiffens. 

This time, I know I didn't imagine it.

I look in every goddamn corner of the room, but nothing is there. Only the lantern's faint glow flashing against the walls. My heartbeat is far too loud in my ears, and my breathing is suddenly irregular. 

Tap, tap, tap. 

That sound is real, I promise. It's also quite near too. 

As I prepare myself, I toss my legs off the bed and place my bare feet on the chilly floor. I stretch my fingers, ready to grab anything, even a pillow if necessary. I turn my head and look out the porch. 

Is that a shadow?

Through the curtains, chilled night air filters in and feels good against my skin. I swear I know that the slight rustle outside isn't the wind. There was a movement. My hand twitches toward the curtain, but hesitation keeps me frozen for a second. 

With all the bravery I had, I pull the curtains open, only to have something completely launch itself directly at my face.

"AHH!" I scream, stumbling back so fast that I lose my balance and crash onto the floor. I feel like my heart is going to blow up.

What on earth was that? A ghost? What the devil? No, hold on. My breath escapes in quick, rapid gasps as my eyes wander all over the place.

Flapping. Wings.

A goddamn bird.

I let out a whine and run my hands over my face in shock. It had to be an ugly bird out of everything that frightened me tonight. Feeling like a complete fool, I press my head back against the floor and try to stop my heart from pounding.

I manage to calm myself somehow, and then I gently stand up, nervous from the shock. My gaze automatically goes to the tree nearby. There are two crows—no, these are too big—sitting silently. 

I squint, trying to make sense of the scene. Are those ravens? But why would the Duke send his birds here?

To the best of my knowledge, ravens have always represented messages. Not just any messages, though—bad news. The kind where you feel sick to your stomach before you've ever heard the words.

They are the bearers of bad news, of things that will inevitably destroy whatever little serenity you have managed to preserve.

What am I supposed to do now if they are here to tell me something?

The idea comes to me like a blast of chilly air. Should I go over to them? Wait for something to happen? Shall I just stand here?

I start to back off, feeling stupid for even thinking of talking to them. However, if there is a message here, it cannot be ignored. Not right now.

I can't get the question out of my head. What am I supposed to do with this unexpected, disturbing interaction?