Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
“It’s just…it’s dangerous.”
“Only if you try to break me out. Which you said you weren’t going to, right? So what’s the harm in visiting me?” I clutch the pillow close to my chest and turn toward the door. “Did you ask the gods if you could free me?”
“No answers on that front, my love,” he replies cheerily.
I roll my eyes into the darkness. I wonder if he even remembered to ask. “Please follow up with the priests,” I ask, keeping my tone sweet. “You know it would mean everything to me if I could get out of here.”
“You’re very brave for your sacrifice,” is all he says.
I’m struck by annoyance again. Does he think I want to be here? That I had a choice? I’ve been trapped since the moment Meryliese died, with no way out of my horrible destiny. “You’re too kind.”
“Shall I tell you more stories of court?” he asks cheerfully. “It has been quite adventuresome as of late.”
“Actually could you get a message to my sister? Tell her I’m all out of candles and wood? I need them both if I’m to last through the winter.”
“My sweet princess, you know that no one can be aware of my visits here. I dare not tell a soul.”
Dragon shite. He just doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s visiting because it doesn’t suit his needs. “Do you want me to sit in the darkness for the next year, Balon? Because if you don’t tell them I need candles and wood, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. I have to make my medicine and I can’t if I don’t have anything with which to make a fire. Understand?”
“I shall see what I can do,” he says. “But I do wish you wouldn’t be so angry at me, dearest. It’s not my fault you’re trapped.”
I pinch my brow, frustrated. “I know it’s not. I’m not trying to be angry, Balon. I’m just scared. If I don’t have my medicine, I’ll get sick and die. You know this. Please, just tell Erynne I need candles and wood for a fire. Please.”
There’s a long pause. “I will do what I can, my heart.”
“Thank you, Balon. That’s all I ask.” I smile into the darkness. “And you’ll be back soon?”
“As soon as I can get away. It is terribly difficult to get away from court, you know. Did you hear that there is a holiday ball next week? For the Feast of Pious Arthell.”
It’s the Feast of Pious Arthell already? I mentally go over a calendar, trying to count the days. The feast always happens in harvest season. Maybe I’ve been here longer than I thought already. “I love the Feast,” I say, moving into safer territory with the conversation. “What are you going to wear?”
Balon settles in with a happy laugh and proceeds to tell me all about his wardrobe choices for the upcoming festivities. When he leaves a few hours later, he promises to return “swiftly” and with news of my sister, the war and to tell the others about my predicament.
I get up from the floor and straighten my blankets, folding them, and as I do, I think about his promises. I don’t know if he realizes just how dire my situation is. I think of spending the long winter in the darkness, parceling out my wood so I can make my potion, and eating cold, raw food. The thought is a depressing one.
“You should tell him to forget you.”
I jump in surprise, my heart thudding wildly in my chest at the sound of the Fellian’s voice. I clutch the pillow to my breast, glaring into the darkness where he’s hiding, only his eyes visible. “Gods above, you really do enjoy jumping out of corners to startle a girl, don’t you?”
He chuckles, and the sound is hollow and strange, and yet oddly enticing. “Not trying to startle you. It’s not my fault you can’t see in the dark.”
“Mm. I still think you’re doing it on purpose.” I set my pillow atop the sled, along with the blanket. There are no more trunks left, after all. There’s junk on the top floor, but after that, I’m out. The sled is my final resort. Once I have to break it down for wood, I’ll know I’m truly in danger. For now, just knowing that it’s there is comforting. “Have you come to chastise me again? Remind me that I’m not to touch your things? Because I’m not.”
“I heard you talking to your fool of a lover,” he says. “And I wanted to remind you that we are both trapped here. He cannot free you, and I won’t let you leave. It’s best if he forgets you entirely.”
Such words of encouragement. “He’s not going to forget me,” I say, lifting my chin in a show of defiance. “Balon loves me. He’s not forgotten about me despite the fact that everyone else at court has. And besides, I don’t want him to forget me. Why should I listen to you?”