Total pages in book: 248
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1185(@200wpm)___ 948(@250wpm)___ 790(@300wpm)
My fingers worried the seam on the arm of the chaise as I stared at the neat pile of clothing that had been placed on the bed. I wasn’t used to such idleness. Such lack of purpose. It made my skin feel too tight and thin. A knot lodged in my throat, my thoughts becoming as heavy as my body felt. I leaned into the chaise, feeling as if I could sink into the soft upholstery and become a part of it until I faded away. And wouldn’t that be kind of lovely—?
“No.” My heart started thumping as I sat up, my muscles going rigid. Breathe in. That was a—a bad thought. Uncomfortable. Suffocating. I smoothed suddenly damp hands over my bare knees. Hold. The chamber was too small as I sat there.
I was too small, shrinking with each passing second. Breathe out. I continued the slow, even breathing and squeezed my eyes shut until I saw white and the pressure in my chest loosened.
Why do you hold your breath?
My eyes opened as I rose. I couldn’t spend one more moment in this chamber. Slipping my feet into thin-soled shoes, I left the room, surprised to find Saion in the hall instead of Orphine. He didn’t put up a fight when I told him I wished to take my breakfast elsewhere, and the farther I made it from my chambers, the more the constriction in my chest and throat loosened.
We stopped in the kitchens, and then I took my breakfast in one of the many receiving chambers on the first floor with Reaver, who ended up following us and was currently napping on a narrow couch the color of the Dark Elms beyond Wayfair. Having breakfast outside my chamber was a marked improvement, but the silence was getting to me.
So was the way Saion quietly hovered near the doors, one hand resting on the hilt of a short sword, watching me as he had the day the Cimmerian came.
Placing my spoon aside, I glanced around the chamber. Just like all the ones I’d seen when Jadis had led us in and out of rooms, this one was well kept, even though it appeared as if no one had stepped foot in it in decades—maybe centuries. There wasn’t even a speck of dust on the wood adornments of the arms and legs of the couch Reaver slept on. I scanned the bare shadowstone walls, reminded of Nyktos’s personal spaces—empty like a void. I frowned, realizing that other than the paintings of Nyktos’s parents in the library, I hadn’t seen another.
“Are these spaces ever used?” I asked as I ran a finger down my glass of juice.
Saion inclined his head, glancing at the walls. “Every once in a while, Jadis or Reaver explores them, but other than that, not that I’ve seen.”
“Who keeps them so clean?”
“Usually Ector.”
“Is he that bored?”
Saion chuckled. “I’ve wondered that myself, but I think he does it for Eythos.”
My fingers stilled on the glass. “Like in his memory or something?”
“I think so.” He glanced over the space. “When Nyktos’s father was alive, he kept all these chambers open and clean. There used to be guests. Not as many as I imagined there were when Eythos was the true Primal of Life, but there was…” He trailed off as if he were searching for the right word.
“There was life here once?” I suspected.
Saion nodded. “Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “There was.”
That was thoughtful of Ector, and it was only surprising because I knew so little about him—about any of them. I leaned back in the chair. “Where are you from?”
Saion raised a dark eyebrow. “That’s a random question.”
It was. “Just curious.”
He said nothing, and I figured that whatever change of heart he’d had only went so far. “Never mind,” I said. “I suppose we can resume the awkward watching-over-me-in-silence thing.”
“I was born in the Triton Isles.”
My gaze cut to him, a little surprised that he’d answered. “You belonged to Phanos’s Court?”
“Stayed there until I was about five decades past my Culling and then both Rhahar and I left.”
“Why did you leave?” I couldn’t help but ask. As far as I knew, the gods born to Phanos’s Court drew their power from the lakes, rivers, and seas, and, well, there were no such things in the Shadowlands.
“You really want to know?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
His head tilted to the side, and he rested it against the doorframe. “Have you heard of the Kingdom of Phythe? It existed several hundred years ago—about a hundred years before Eythos made the deal with your ancestor. It was a beautiful kingdom, full of people who lived off the land and the sea. Peaceful people,” he said, and it didn’t pass me by that I now knew that Saion was older than Nyktos. “In the mortal realm, it once stretched along the southern foothills of the Skotos Mountain range, all the way to the sea.”