The Crow That’s After Me

Chapter 05 —

The young boy bowed deeply to Elena. Up close, he looked even younger, and it was clear he wasn’t in good health.

“My name is Paido,” he said.

“Paido?” The name sounded strange — something people usually gave to dogs, not boys. “I am loyal,” she remembered, thinking of what the name might mean. Elena hid her confusion.

“Can you help me?” she asked.

Paido looked up at the tree. A black crow was perched on a branch, staring down at them with shiny bead-like eyes.

“Donovan!”

“So that’s the crow’s name?” Elena asked.

“Yes. He’s a greedy one. Try taking off your bracelet and shaking it. He’ll want it so badly he’ll drop whatever’s in his beak.”

Elena did as Paido said and removed her bracelet.

“Donovan, here. Come get this.”

The crow tilted its head from side to side before spreading its wings. As it flew straight toward her, Elena squeezed her eyes shut. She felt a strong tug on her bracelet — but when she opened her eyes, it was still in her hand.

My comb!

She looked around quickly — now the comb was hanging from the crow’s foot! It was as if the bird were teasing her. Paido quietly stepped closer.

“Donovan is clever, even for a crow. He must’ve realized that comb is more precious to you than the bracelet.”

The crow dropped to the ground and rolled about as if laughing. Elena nearly ran forward to grab the comb, but Paido whispered,

“Pretend you don’t care. Don’t even look at it. Once he gets bored, he’ll lose interest.”

Elena took a deep breath, turned her back on the mischievous bird, and looked at Paido.

“Do you live here?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m thirsty. Could you make me a cup of tea?”

She planned to use the tea as an excuse to talk to him and learn who he really was.

Paido looked up at her silently. His hair was pale, and even his eyes were a light color. Though she had never seen him before, there was something familiar in his gaze.

Could he be the Grand Duke’s illegitimate child? she wondered. He was much younger than the Duke, but perhaps it was possible.

“My home is too shabby for a lady like you,” he said softly.

“I don’t mind such things, child. There’s no need to be ashamed.”

But Paido shook his head.

“I’m a sinner. I shouldn’t even be speaking to anyone.”

“A sinner?” Elena frowned — but before she could ask more, she heard footsteps nearby. Paido quickly vanished.

“Wait, my comb—!”

“I’ll send Donovan later! Please go, quickly!” he whispered from behind a wall.

Startled by his tone, Elena hurried back inside.

As she reached the hallway, she ran right into Mary, who looked pale and anxious.

“My lady! I was looking everywhere for you! Why are you here alone?”

“I lost my way,” Elena said casually.

Mary blinked in disbelief, then quickly composed herself and bowed.

“Please, my lady, never go anywhere without me again.”

Of course, it wasn’t proper for a noblewoman to wander alone without her maid or escort. But there was something in Mary’s voice that hinted at more than just etiquette. Still, Elena decided to keep her suspicions to herself.

“Did you do what I asked?”

“Yes, my lady. I spoke with the butler. There are no letters from the capital addressed to you.”

“That can’t be.”

Could her old nurse have fallen ill? But even then, her father or the princess should’ve written. It didn’t make sense.

Seeing Mary’s worried face, Elena sighed.

“Perhaps something went wrong on the way here. It’s not easy traveling between the capital and this place.”

“You’re right, my lady,” Mary agreed.

To reach Varcian from the capital, one had to cross a wide desert. Roads were poor, and communication was slow. Elena said this to reassure Mary — but when she returned to her room, her thoughts turned dark.

The Grand Duke of Varcian — her husband — was the man who had once crushed her spirit. Though he seemed less cruel now, he still doubted her purity. Maybe… he was intercepting her letters.

How can I find out? she thought, lying awake late into the night.

The next morning, Elena was woken by Mary’s shouting.

“Heavens! This awful crow! How did it get in here?”

Elena blinked, half-asleep, then her eyes widened.

“Donovan!”

“Huh?” Mary looked at her in confusion.

“Do you… know this crow, my lady?” she asked, then laughed at her own question.

Elena smiled and waved a hand. “I met him yesterday while walking. I named him Donovan. Come here, Donovan.”

The crow cawed from the windowsill and then flew to her bed. But disappointingly, he wasn’t carrying her comb.

“Where’s my comb?” she whispered.

Donovan just blinked at her, innocent as ever.

“You wicked thing…” Elena muttered under her breath, feeling betrayed. She got out of bed, and the crow hopped after her.

“This naughty bird stole my hair comb,” she told Mary, who was preparing warm water.

Mary shook her head. “I doubt you’ll ever find it.”

“Not at all?”

“He probably hid it in some secret nest only he knows about.”

She handed Elena a towel and added, “If I were you, I’d chase him out before he steals anything else shiny.”

But Donovan was too cute to drive away. As Mary dressed Elena, the crow suddenly flew up and perched on her arm.

“You filthy thing! How dare you with those dirty claws!” cried Mary, horrified.

Elena laughed so hard her stomach hurt. She hadn’t laughed like that in ages.

After that, Mary could only glare helplessly at the bird.

Even after Elena finished dressing, Donovan refused to leave. He followed her to breakfast and perched on the table, pecking hopefully for crumbs.

When Mary wasn’t looking, Elena tore a piece of bread and offered it. Donovan took it happily.

Mary noticed, sighed, and pretended not to see. She pitied her lonely mistress — far from home, without love or comfort — and decided not to scold her.

Before long, Donovan became Elena’s closest companion. He came every morning to wake her, and sometimes even in the afternoons. Whenever his beak tapped on the window, Mary would grumble but still open it.

Over time, Mary’s suspicion faded. She stopped watching the bird so closely and went about her chores.

“Here, catch this,” Elena said, tossing a cherry to Donovan and glancing at Mary, who was busy sewing embroidery — likely for some knight she admired.

“Caw!”

Donovan caught the cherry and cawed loudly, proud of himself.

“That noisy crow! He’ll drive me mad!” Mary complained, still focused on her needlework.

Elena smiled. She tore a small piece from the bottom of her unfinished letter to her nanny. On it, she wrote only:

“Elena, daughter of Duke Salem.”

Even if someone else found it, those words wouldn’t cause trouble.

She placed another cherry on the table, and Donovan hopped over curiously. While he pecked at it, she tied the small note to his leg. To her relief, he stayed still, as if he understood.

“Go now,” she whispered, gently pushing him toward the open window.

Donovan spread his wings and flew off. Elena watched until he disappeared from sight.

That night, long after the fire in the hearth had dimmed, Elena was startled awake by a soft tapping sound.

It went on and on until she rose from bed. At the window stood Donovan, his shadow stretching across the room.

“You did well,” she whispered, opening the window. A note was tied to his leg.

Elena untied it, stroked his feathers, and walked toward the fireplace. She lit a new fire with trembling hands.

Having grown up in the warm southern lands, she’d never learned to light a fire before coming here. She wasn’t very good at it yet, but she managed. Donovan hopped closer to the flames, seeking warmth.

Finally, Elena unfolded the paper. Her eyes widened in shock.

“Paido, bastard son of Karina Varcian.”

Karina — the late Grand Duchess of Varcian. The official mother of Theodore Varcian, the current Grand Duke. She had died seven years ago during the southern war.

A secret child…?

Elena threw the note into the fire. She watched until every trace of it burned away, but still sat motionless for a long time.

Paido’s strange words, the servants’ secrecy, the Duke’s cold glare — everything finally made sense.

Elena didn’t sleep that night.

“My lady, why are you up so early?”

The next morning, Mary chattered beside her as Elena washed her pale face. She was exhausted from lack of sleep.

“You must be nervous, waiting for the master’s return,” Mary teased.

Elena froze. The Grand Duke had been gone for a week — and today, he was coming back.

She said nothing to correct Mary’s assumption and simply replied, “I need to go pray.”

“Pray? But the master will arrive soon — shouldn’t you get ready, my lady?”

“He doesn’t like women who dress up,” Elena said quietly.

How could she forget his cruel words from their first meeting?