Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Suddenly, I regret Zander sending Abarrane off on an errand. She wouldn’t tolerate this.
Lady Danthrin’s cold stare settles on me—on my stinking, dusty clothes and boots—and I tense with anticipation of what might come out of that sour mouth.
“I will have my servants fill one of the horse’s troughs so those traveling with the king may cleanse.”
Those traveling with the king. She couldn’t say “common whore” louder.
With everything I’ve been through and all that I know of her despicable husband, my anger reaches its boiling point. Yeah, she knows damn well the kind of monster she married. “Your Highness,” I hiss.
Confusion mars her tight face.
“You will address me as Your Highness, as is appropriate for someone of my station. And I can’t wait to tell the king what you think is suitable for his future queen.” I may as well throw that title around while I still can.
All color drains from her face, her gaze flittering among faces as if searching for the truth to my claim. “I … I did not realize—”
“I will take my bath in the room you have prepared for me.” My voice is cold and hard. I nudge Elisaf with my hand on his back.
“My lady.” He leads us along the drive. Only when we’re halfway to the stables does he whisper, “You do choose odd times to wield that title, Your Highness.”
The sheer curtain at the window provides ample cover for spying on the warriors as I drag a comb through my freshly washed hair. Lady Danthrin transformed into an exemplary host after her humiliating introduction. By the time a servant led us here—a large guest bedroom with an enormous four-poster bed draped in velvet—warm towels and robes had been laid out and a copper tub was already half full, a steady line of gangly mortals rushing up the stairs with buckets of water. They’ve returned twice, delivering platters of food and pitchers of wine.
Most legionaries have made their way back to the stables and are either cleaning up in the water trough or settling on hay bales to rest, their laughter carrying into the otherwise quiet evening. Three tributaries huddle in a corner behind an elven man, the torchlight glinting off their gold ear cuffs. I assume the Islorian is their keeper, his clothing fashioned from fine cloth that doesn’t hint of the poverty I saw entering town, his hair pulled into a ponytail to highlight the severe cut of his cheekbones. His scowl says he’s complying with Zander’s demand, but he’s not happy. Or maybe it’s about being made to wait, given how he keeps tapping his foot and looking around. No one seems in a rush to take advantage of his donations.
What of these tributaries, though? What do they think of being passed over to a group of fierce warriors?
“Do you think any of those vials have made it here yet?”
“I think not, but I will test the tributaries before they feed, just to be sure.”
“You can do that?” I can’t help but steal a glance at the priestess, submerged in her freshly drawn bath, scrubbing a dried patch of dirt from her elbow. A simple beige linen dress hangs by the door for her, delivered by Zorya, along with riding pants and a fresh tunic for me. Danthrin’s servants are busy scrubbing the smell of sewage from our other clothes. A futile effort, I’m afraid.
“I can because I know what to look for. I will go to the stables as soon as I’m finished here. There are still those with less critical injuries to tend to.”
“What about me?”
“You have injuries you need tending, Your Highness?”
“No, I’m fine.” My hand smooths over the knife prick from Abarrane. It’ll be gone within a day. The scratch on my cheek has already healed. “But I have a million questions.” And I haven’t had a chance to ask one. “What did you tell Zander yesterday?”
“The truth.” Water sluices off her arm. “That the two of you together can bring an end to the blood curse.”
“How?”
“That remains to be seen.”
“So you have no idea how.”
“Prophecies do not come with instructions. It is not how they work.”
“What else did you tell him?”
She considers that a moment. “He asked about the summons Ianca made, if it was true that Princess Romeria could have clouded his judgment as so many have suggested.”
“And you said it was.”
“The queen felt the most effective weapon against the Islorians would be one that could get exceptionally close to him.”
Into his bed and his heart. “And now Zander doesn’t believe that anything he feels for me is real. Or felt for me. That it’s all fake.” My chest burns. What I felt for him was very real. It still is, no matter how much I might wish it weren’t. And this ache settled within, that’s also painfully real.