Crownless King

Crownless King PART 2 MARINA SIMCOE Crownless King, part 2 World of the River of Mists Copyright © 2023 Marina Simcoe All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please contact the author. Marina Simcoe [email protected] Facebook/Marina Simcoe Author This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Spelling: English (American) Editing by Cissell Ink Proofreading by Nic Page Cover image source Depositphotos.com and Period Images Crownless King is the final book in the Wingless Crow duet. It contains graphic descriptions of intimacy, some violence, and discussions on adult themes. Intended for mature readers. Created with Vellum Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Epilogue Afterword Call of Water More in the River of Mists More by Marina Simcoe More by Marina Simcoe About the Author Please Stay in Touch To all who need no wings to fly. Chapter One SPARROW It was dark when I opened my eyes. Dark and warm. I remembered riding with Voron, tucked into his chest under his soft, velvet cloak. I remembered feeling cold, even as my body burned with heat. Someone had given me a fragrant tea to drink. I recalled a warm, wet cloth against my skin, wiping the filth of the dungeon off my body. All these memories were fuzzy except for the feeling of overwhelming exhaustion. It was so heavy, I couldn’t even open my eyes when people washed and changed me. And after a few more sips of the tea, I remembered nothing at all. I lay in bed now. In a dark room dimly lit by pale blue crystals entrapped in the semi-transparent black walls. The charcoal-gray vines holding the black wall panels reminded me of Elaros, but it didn’t look like any room I’d seen in the Sky Palace. Rising on my elbows, I took a better look at the space. It appeared to be a huge bedroom. The bed alone was almost as big as my entire room back in Elaros. A tall fireplace opposite the bed would comfortably fit a whole pickup truck inside it. It was unlit. Which was good, as it felt warm without a fire in here. A couple of dark blue couches in carved black frames, a chair, and a low table were arranged into a sitting area in front of the fireplace. One of the tall windows was open. A light breeze gently moved the thin white curtains that glistened with firrian beetles. My arms trembled from the effort of supporting my body, and I lay back into the pillows. Rolling to my side, I found a high-backed armchair by my bed. Voron slouched in it. His long legs bent, knees apart, his head dropped to one shoulder, he appeared asleep. There was something tragic and vulnerable about his position, like he’d been so exhausted, he’d just crashed into the chair and fallen asleep immediately without bothering to arrange his limbs comfortably first. I had lots of questions, but I didn’t want to wake him to demand the answers. The familiar staccato of hooves hitting the floor sounded from the distance. I rose from the cushions again as the door opened and Brebie trotted in with a small tray in her hands. “Oh, you’re up? Good, good. Drink your water.” She set the tray on the bedside table, then handed me a wide crystal glass. “I’ll go fetch your dinner.” She sounded cheerful and energetic like always. And just as loud. “Shhh.” I pressed a finger to my lips. “You’ll wake Voron.” “Him?” She waved her hand toward her lord. “Nothing can wake him when he’s this tired, only Magnus maybe. But I locked the bird in the library so Voron can get some rest. He was up all night, pacing here like a man possessed. It’s a miracle he hasn’t worn a hole in the floor yet.” “Why was he up? Was he worried?” She nodded. “Out of his mind. He read somewhere that humans are extremely fragile and was worried sick about you. But look at you.” Her voice lifted. “You did just fine, like I told him you would.” “How long did I sleep?” Words scratched my dry throat. I drank the water, emptying the glass. “You arrived late last night. And you weren’t really awake when you got here, falling asleep right after we put you to bed. So, you slept for a night and a day. It’s your second night here.” “Where’s here? What is this place?” “Oh, this is Vensari, Voron’s family home.” His family home? I took another look around. It suited him. Granted, I’d only seen this one room, but the rich yet subdued colors of black, dark-gray, and royal blue seemed to be Voron’s preferred palette both in clothes and furnishings. Brebie grabbed my empty glass. “I’ll get your dinner now. You need to eat to regain your strength. Poor thing, you couldn’t even walk when you got here. Voron had to carry you like a baby.” That must have been the fever that knocked me out so badly. It wasn’t surprising I caught something, considering the horrible conditions in the royal dungeon.