Page 70 of The Hopeless Romantic’s Guide to Enchantment

On day thirty-one, Cera made progress. Raiden sent a letter to her door, requesting her presence in the forest beside the city. No warbirds, it said, with impeccable handwriting. Just us.

Sexy.

Cera dressed warm, although they’d recently been hit with a bout of sunny days. But in Dalet, she could never be sure. She purposefully discarded her Ralianan clothes for a traditional Daletian cloak and dress, which was lined with thick wool and decorated in sewn patterns. It wasn’t her style – dresses were highly impractical riding attire – but riding wasn’t the goal today.

Tasi patted her cheek and pulled a woolen hat over her hair and said, “Have fun. Try not to jump his bones.”

Be careful, was what she meant.

Cera smirked. “I’m fairly sure he’s too proper to allow that.”

We’ll see.

A guard escorted Cera downstairs, where the duke was waiting in the courtyard. He bowed deeply to her, his cheeks reddening as he assessed her Daletian garb. “You – ah, you look lovely, duchess.”

“Thank you,” she replied, dipping into a similar bow. “And you appear rather dashing.” He was still wearing the ocarina for Pinske, but as far as Cera could tell, the owl hadn’t been summoned more than a handful of times since her arrival. Meanwhile, Korvi perched on a parapet high above them, flapping his wings to gain Raiden’s attention.

“Korvi says to watch yourself,” Cera added coyly.

“Are you worried?” Raiden drawled, shielding his blue eyes as he squinted up at the raven.

Cera looped one arm through his. “Not when you’re around.”

They ventured into the forest. A path had been shoveled, and around them, snow melted. The droplets sounded like a lone instrument, musical and lovely as the drips plinked onto pine needles and rocks. It was a glimmering winter wonderland, and Cera was actually starting to see the beauty in it.

Behind them, a pair of guards trailed, far enough back to be nearly imperceptible. So, not really ‘just us,’ then, Cera thought in amusement. Probably, they were following to help if a bear or mountain lion attacked, but it certainly ruined the mood.

Raiden finally broke the silence, pausing at a tree carved with an X. “I captured my first bird here.”

“Pinske?” Cera asked.

Raiden waved a hand. “No, no. Not a warbird; Pinske and her ancestors always served my family. My mother, her father, his father…” Raiden rubbed the back of his neck. “But even warbird riders start with proper falconry.”

“An ancient sport,” Cera said, approvingly. “We have several skilled falconers in Raliana. Although we don’t… ah, capture… the birds.”

“Your forests sound far preferable. Is that the Shining Eagle’s influence? I imagine the birthplace of the first warbird would change the ecosystem?”

“His influence is everywhere,” Cera said honestly. “The birds, even the normal ones, are more intelligent, more responsive. They partner with our falconers to hunt, and choose to live in the mews we build. It’s an innate partnership.”

Raiden hesitated. “Is that how you’re able to ride Korvi without a saddle? Even under my control, I think Pinske might accidentally throw me.”

“Korvi would never drop me,” Cera said, laughing at the idea. “We have an agreement.”

Raiden tilted his head. Their footsteps crunched over snow, filling the silence for a moment. Finally, he dared to ask, “Can you… communicate… with Korvi? I’ve heard rumors that Ralianan riders can, sometimes. But I assumed it was an old fable.”

Cera debated how to answer. “I’ve spoken to him directly before, but only once. The day he picked me as his rider. Everything after is… ah, more of an inherent understanding.”

“Amazing.” Raiden paused in his walk, then stepped away from her. For a moment, they just stared at each other, his smoldering blue eyes cutting into her green ones. Cera held her breath, but he didn’t keep her in suspense long. “Cera, the last few weeks have been… incredible. Your raven has brightened spirits all over town—”

“Even in your library?” Cera teased.

Raiden snorted, thrown off. “Well, my spirit was brightened by that meeting, although my head librarian is rightly terrified.”

“That’s the trouble with Corvidae. They’re kleptos for anything shiny.”

“Well, I’ll make sure the entire palace is covered in metal for your warbird.” Raiden swept his arms out in a vulnerable display, bending half over to submit to her. The guards, wherever they were, had faded into the forest, allowing them this moment of perceived privacy.

“Cera Windswift, Duchess of the Forest of Raliana, you are like no one I’ve ever met. We both know why you’re in Dalet, but I am truly earnest when I say that you have impressed me at every turn. While I know you are the one with the power here, duchess, I humbly ask you to consider moving forward in our arrangement.”