Archai cleared his throat and the muscles in his jaw tensed. “Draì was the Voice of Apan before you.”
Caia’s heart sank at his words. She’d never heard the actual names of the Voices besides Poette, but Poette had a somewhat recent presence among the fae in the northeastern region of Jaydür. Stories abounded for years that the Voice had walked among the world.
Dropping her attention to her feet, Caia took in a slow, deliberate breath and said, “Draì. It’s a beautiful name. The very idea that you even knew her is still baffling.”
“We were close,” Archai admitted. “Closer than the others.”
Caia grinned facetiously. “Were you?
“Not romantically, Caia,” Archai replied, his tone an awkward mix of abashedness and irritation. “We were simply friends. Her extreme empathy and love for life lik
