Page 58 of Crowned By Roses

20

Rosalina

“Has he woken up?” Wrenley asks as I open the door and head into the hall of the ruined palace.

When the man fell out of the tree, it’d been hard to tell what shape he was in. He was breathing, slow and steady, but unconscious. There’d been no clear wounds or bruising. The only choice was to carry him down to our base at the palace. Though Ezryn had joked that we try to shove him back in the tree.

At least I think he was joking.

When we arrived at the palace, we cleared out a room, and I donated my bedroll so he’d have somewhere warm and clean to sleep. I’m sure one of my mates won’t mind sharing with me.

“Well?” Wrenley’s giant blue eyes grow wider.

“Still sleeping,” I say. “I came to get some water and rations. He might be hungry when he wakes up.”

“Already on it, Blossom.” Dayton rounds a corner, holding a tray of beautifully assembled rations and a jug of water.

“Thanks,” I say, turning back to the room. I don’t want him to wake up alone and feel afraid. “You should come in, Wrenley. You’re the one who found him after all.”

She grimaces but follows me into the room. It’s bright, thanks to a hole in the roof. But I chose it because a blue-leaf tree is half growing inside, and it reminds me of my room in Castletree.

Dayton sets the tray of food down and then rests on a pile of rubble in the corner, eyeing the man. Kel had laid him atop the bedroll on his stomach so as not to disturb his wings. Now that I have a chance to take a better look, I can’t stop staring at them. Wings, so similar to those in the etchings we saw at the Celestial Landing.

I’m not the only one curious. Wrenley prowls forward, and I wish it didn’t remind me so much of a cat stalking a mouse.

I have so many questions about this man. And about my sister. How did she know to find the grove? Was it all purely a feeling, or did she have a hunch based on some of Kairyn’s research? For now, I choose a safer question. “Do you think he can fly?”

“Maybe once. But look here. Someone clipped his wings.” She runs a hand along the curve of one. There’s a tear straight down each wing.

Then he twitches.

Wrenley screams and flies back, grabbing my arm. His wings move quicker, fluttering.

“Quick!” I gasp. “Day, get everyone! He’s awake.”

“On it!” Dayton scrambles up and darts from the room.

Meanwhile, my sister and I take one shaky step back as the man rises. He sits and stretches his long arms into the air. His wings flutter faster, as if they’re stretching too.

He yawns, a tumble of maroon hair falling into his face. Then he turns to us, cheeks darkening, and he speaks.

Except I can’t understand a word he’s saying. But based on cadence alone, I don’t think it’s “I’m going to kill you.”

I look to Wrenley, but she’s staring at him like a bird spoke. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

“Oh, you speak Aithean. Few fae speak it outside the lower isles.” The color in his face brightens. “No offense. My mother was a Low Islander. Doesn’t mean anything.”

I exchange another look with Wrenley, then cautiously say, “No offense taken.”

“Hmm.” He pushes himself up and stands on wobbly legs. His eyes are bright and alert and focused on the tree. He stumbles over and plucks the same fruit that Caspian almost ate and takes a bite. Pale blue juice flows over his lips.

“Don’t eat that.” Wrenley’s mouth drops open into a horrified O.

“Sorry, how rude of me. I should have offered you the best part.” He shakes the fruit until a white worm wiggles out. He holds it by the end, then walks over to us and pops it into Wrenley’s open mouth.

I don’t know if I should tie him up in briars, shout at him, or laugh. Wrenley doesn’t either because she stands stone still. But the man opens his eyes wide; they’re hazel with gold flecked around his iris.

“Swallow,” he says, like it’s obvious.