The flock of crows descended on the palace’s front courtyard, their wings beating in unison, their bodies dissolving mid-air from gigantic bird to beast.

Black feathers receded into skin, wings folding back into arms and shoulders, until what stood before the Emperor of Iondora was a retinue of half-beast corvids, their long black plumes still adorning their backs and arms like regalia.

Their sharp and glittering eyes scanned around, regarding the welcoming assembly at the front door.

And at their center, stepping forward gracefully, was Magnus Karas. He was almost human-like. More human than beast. His frame was tall and broad-shouldered, his posture straight without being stiff, his movements entirely fluid.

But where hair should have been, his head was crowned with a full, sweeping crest of white feathers. They rose from his scalp in a soft plume, cascading backward, pure white and impossibly smooth.

His tail, visible beneath the elegant cut of his coat he immediately wore after the transformation, extended into a fan of large, sweeping white feathers that brushed the cobblestones behind him as he walked.

Damon Iondora saw his life flash before his eyes.

Not in the vague, poetic sense. It was the specific, this-man-could-kill-me-and-be-justified sense.

Because Magnus Karas was the man whose fiancée had been sleeping in Damon’s bed. Yes. His fiancée had hung from Damon’s neck and whispered about divine dragons, historical precedent and the benefits of being close to the Emperor.

The man whose fiancée had, not long ago, been pressing her body against Damon’s and sighing into his mouth and telling him that her generous and wise betrothed would not mind at all.

Damon had assumed, no, prayed, actually, that Magnus knew everything. The dragon thing. Also, especially the strange and complicated dynamic that had somehow developed between the Emperor of Iondora and a Cassian princess who had killed his father.

Magnus Karas was supposed to be generous and wise. He was supposed to be understanding, said to be someone who would encourage his fiancée to get closer to people with divine connections.

But weren’t they planning to get married because they were in love with each other?!

Magnus reached out.

Damon braced, put his hand forward, and Magnus shook his hand.

Grasp.

The grip was firm and warm, without hostility. But just when he thought it would be over in another split second, Magnus pulled him forward, gave him a heart attack, and drew him into a slight half-embrace.

And then he whispered.

"Did you fuck her?"

Damon reincarnated to the next life, leaving his body immediately.

"What?"

"You did not?"

The horror in Damon’s voice must have been evident, because Magnus pulled back, his head tilting and curious. His eyes studied Damon’s, genuinely bewildered.

"No!" Damon whispered in panic, trying his best to keep the horror out of his expression so everyone around wouldn’t speculate.

"Why?" Magnus asked. But his demand for a reasonable answer now was beyond ridiculous. "I would die for that. And you refused? Do you know how hard is it to get to her bed? And she got to your be—"

"But that would be cheating—"

"If that gives us a connection to dragons, then fuck her." Magnus’ eyes were clear and sincere. Completely without irony. "Can you not see my point? Or—" He paused, his head tilting in the opposite direction, his white feather crest rustling softly with the motion.

"—do you want to fuck me instead? Is that your preference?" Magnus narrowed his eyes. "No, fuck me instead. Don’t fuck my fiancé. I’m actually quite a jealous ma—"

Damon pulled away completely, his body moving before his mind could intervene, putting a solid arm’s length of distance between himself and this absolutely insane bird-man, but his hand was still held in his firm grip.

"Just kill me, man!" Damon hissed with horror.

Why was this worse than what Ivy had implied about her fiancé?!

Magnus looked at him.

And then, he lightly, almost imperceptibly scoffed. The tone was humorous too!

Ah.

Relief flooded through Damon’s veins. This man was messing with him. Of course. Of course he was messing with him.

Magnus Karas was engaged to Ivy Cassia. He had probably developed an entire arsenal of psychological warfare just to survive the relationship. This was simply—

"Show me your bedroom."

Magnus’s hand pressed against Damon’s back, and lightly, he pushed him toward the palace doors.

Ah.

Damon’s brief, precious relief evaporated like morning frost under a very determined sun.

No. This man was not kidding.

"What about the meeting?"

"We can talk in your bedroom."

"For fuck’s sake..."

"Relax. I just want to scout the playing field."

"Scout the pla—"

***

The weather was colder today. Quite a biting cold that crept through the seams of windows and shimmied under doors.

This kind of day would usually make people bundle themselves in layers and huddle near fireplaces, prompting them to generally avoid any activity that required leaving the warmth of their homes.

Thankfully, Cecilia did not need to step out of the estate to conduct this particular surprise important meeting.

Yes. A surprise important meeting.

She had heard, through Angela’s intelligence network, that Magnus Karas had arrived at the Iondora Palace today. The first-in-history diplomatic talks between the Iondora Empire and the corvid beasts. It was, by all accounts, a significant event.

The Iondora Empire, with Avian Beasts, officially? Yeah, no joke.

But that was not the point for now.

Because while Damon was at the palace enduring whatever fresh chaos Magnus Karas had brought with him, here, at the Dawnoro Capital Residence, Cecilia was conducting her own surprise meeting... with a child dressed in a black, crow-like... costume...?

She stared.

Behind her veil, her eyes blinked once.

The child was small. Perhaps eight years old, though it was difficult to tell beneath the voluminous layers of black feathers that covered her from head to toe.

The garment was not quite a costume, she realized after a moment. It was clothing. Real clothing that was made from real feathers, layered and stitched and arranged into a hooded cloak that enveloped the child’s entire body.

Behind the child, beaming radiantly and reverently with a smile that rivaled the sun in both brightness and intensity, stood Ivy Cassia.

"Iondora is quite strict with who can get in and out, you see~" Ivy said cheerfully. "The air truly is the best route for smugglers~"

Silence.

Arkai was standing at Cecilia’s right shoulder. He stared at the Cassian princess, trying to decide whether he needed to throw someone out of his house.

Cecilia, seated in her usual chair with her black veil concealing her features, simply tilted her head.

And Rinne, who had rarely been accompanying his parents to greet the unexpected guest because he had no study scheduled today, was staring at the feather-clad child with unconcealed curiosity.

Cecilia sighed and deadpannedly asked, "Did you tell Damon?"

"Of course!" Ivy’s smile did not waver.

"And... how did you get into Iondora?"

"I was smuggled in a different way. But that is easier, because I have done this many times before with a fixed false identity, Your Majesty." Ivy said breezily. So casual because she assumed correctly that Cecilia did the same. "Through the front gate~"

Ivy Cassia had smuggled herself into the capital through the front gate, using a false identity she had apparently used so many times it was now routine.

But she had smuggled this child dressed in crow feathers through the air, bypassing whatever security measures the Iondora Empire had in place for terrestrial entry?

It meant that the princess didn’t want this little girl to even be recorded at the gate at all.

Such an important child, huh?

She turned her veiled gaze back to the child.

"And this is...?"

"This is Lilyca." Ivy said, voice softened. She placed a hand on the child’s feathered shoulder, gently urging her forward. "Lilyca, this is Her Majesty, Sees, the Dragon’s Physician."

The child looked up.

Beneath the black-feathered hood that covered the entirety of her face, a pair of small hands reached out. They grasped the edge of the hood and slowly pulled it back.

Black hair fell past her shoulders in a straight, heavy curtain, so dark it seemed to drink the light from the room. Her face was small and solemn. And her eyes—

Her eyes were silver-white. The color of moonlight on still water. The color of mirrors. Like something that was not quite human. Those eyes locked onto Cecilia’s own behind the black veil, and Cecilia realized who exactly this young girl was.

The girl looked dazed. Her silver-white eyes were slightly unfocused, as though she were hearing something no one else could hear. But she pulled herself together.

"It is..." She stuttered with a small voice. She clasped her hands in front of her, as if reverently praying.

"It is a tremendous honor to finally meet you, Lesser Goddess Sees."