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)
Romeria has become my own personal curse.
Abarrane’s lip quirks. “Two of Danthrin’s servants ran in the night. The couple.”
“As I expected they would.” Their furtive whispers and glances didn’t leave much to the imagination about their plans.
“The idiots walked within five feet of Iago without realizing he was there.”
“But he let them pass without issue?”
“Begrudgingly.”
“What direction did they go?”
“South.”
Likely toward Cirilea. Maybe to the Rookery. “They won’t last long, but that is their choice.” Surely, they’ve heard the stories of what lurks among these hills—immortals without honor, cast out by their communities. The marauders cower within the trees until a caravan passes and then attack, usually at night, to steal the humans away from their keepers. They’ve never learned how to practice restraint, though, and the humans don’t survive long.
I’d heard rumors that the attacks were growing bolder. We sensed several spying on us yesterday. If we weren’t pressed for time, the Legion would have hunted them down and ended their plague upon Islor.
“I will say, for the record—again—that I do not think it wise to release these mortals we’ve procured. The Legion needs tributaries, especially in the mountains.”
“They can stay if they agree to it willingly. I did not remove them from that shameful situation solely for our benefit. They’ve been through much.” And my guilty conscience reminds me that I could have rescued them sooner. Should have rescued them sooner.
We’ve known of the growing atrocities across Islor for years but had grown too focused on politics and civility. As the prince, I could have taken a more active role in bringing the Islorians responsible to justice, instead of simply talking about it. In that, Romeria was right.
Did she agree with the brand of justice I delivered, though? Romeria has never had the stomach for that sort of punishment. But in this world, it is the only message that will carry far, the only warning that might be heeded. She will learn that soon, and she will need to strengthen her resolve if she is to survive, with or without my protection.
Still, I’ve been avoiding her since, afraid to see the judgment in her eyes.
“What happens if she decides she wishes to leave?” Abarrane asks, nodding toward where Romeria stood moments ago. “If she is no longer willing to remain with you?”
“Think of what she has endured thus far with me.”
“Blind luck.”
“You call it luck. I call it intelligence and a desire to survive. Romeria will not leave, because she is not a fool. She does not have the luxury of choice.”
In that, our fates are the same.
15
Romeria
I grin at the rush of ducks flapping out of the reeds, their quacks stirring the early-morning quiet. I hadn’t expected the wave to reach that far, but it did, and it happened without the ring on my finger. I’ll bet kids feel this rush the first time they pedal their bikes down the sidewalk without the training wheels.
“Your Highness.” Jarek’s voice from behind pulls me from my focus, his tone raspy and mocking as usual. “Your guard might wait on you, but the Legion isn’t going to give you special treatment. Come and collect your shit. We’re leaving soon.”
I rise and slip my ring back on with a heavy sigh of annoyance before turning to face the arrogant warrior. Even within the dim shadows of the predawn light, I can make out the sharp angles of his jaw, the long, ropelike braids of hair, the hard gleam in his eye. “And which shit would that be? I don’t own anything.”
He smirks. “Your skins, for one. Unless you feel like sleeping in wet grass tonight. And this.” He holds up my sheathed dagger, the one Zander gave me. It was digging into my hip while I slept, so I unfastened it and set it next to my makeshift pillow.
I yank it from his grasp. “Is there someone else I can ride with today?”
“The king. Otherwise, I’ll bear that burden so the others do not have to.”
“How gallant of you.” I fumble with the dagger, trying to affix it to my belt. Something so simple, and yet I’ll need more practice to master it.
“Abarrane told me a fascinating tale last night, about how you do not remember your life before the night you killed King Eachann and Queen Esma. How did you convince anyone of that?”
“Because it’s the truth? I don’t remember the princess who came from Ybaris, or anything about that life. She’s a completely different person.”
“And the king fell for that? You must have a compelling method of persuasion.” His gaze flitters over the length of my body.
It’s too early to deal with him. “What were you doing in my tent, anyway?”
“Not looking for you.” His chuckle is dark as he walks away.
If that’s the case, then there is only one person he would be looking for in there. My anger flares. I charge after him, grabbing hold of the first thing I can reach—the gauntlet covering his wrist. “Eden is not here for you, do you understand? None of you are feeding off her or using her in any way. She’s been through enough.”