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)
“You called me love,” he muses. “Twice now. You must really like my knot.”
Chuckling, I make the next stitch. Flirty drunks, I can handle. “Thinking about that, are you?”
“Constantly,” he admits.
I continue stitching his wing, hoping that I’m doing this right. I tack it in several spots to hold it together, then go back to the “beginning” of the wound and wipe away blood. I make the first tiny stitch, wishing for the first time that I’d paid attention to Riza’s needlework lessons. Still, how hard can it be? You make a stitch on one side and pull the needle through. That’s all. I make a tiny cross-stitch instead, since that seems more secure, and glance over at Nemeth to see how he’s handling the pain.
He’s still watching me, his expression thoughtful.
“I’m doing the best I can,” I tell him, making another stitch. “Tell me if you need me to pause so you can handle the pain.”
The Fellian snorts. “Mere tickles.”
I wipe away more blood. “Uh huh.”
“Is it true?”
I pause, looking over at him. “Hmm?”
“You called me love. Twice now. Did you mean it?”
For a drunk, he has an amazingly sharp mind. I’m not used to being confronted on my flirting. “It’s an affectionate name. I feel affection for you. Of course I’m going to call you ‘love.’”
“You feel affection for me?”
“I said that, didn’t I?”
“And you enjoy sucking my cock. And you liked my knot. Those weren’t lies?”
I make another stitch, wincing in sympathy as I tug it through his wing. “Where are you going with this?”
“That perhaps you have feelings for me.”
I already know I do. That’s not the problem. The problem is that he’s forcing me to choose frolicking in bed with him and giving up my kingdom. “I adore you,” I confess. “Being with you makes me happy. You’re the only reason I haven’t given up a dozen times over. You’re the only reason I didn’t race out that door the moment they opened it.”
“That and the wrath of the Golden Moon Goddess, yes?”
I’m silent, because I’m not a good person. If it was up to just me? I’d probably have left. I like to think that I’d be noble and sacrificing, but I don’t think I’m strong enough for that. I’m a weak coward. “I’m just glad you’re here. You saved me down there.” I wipe the blood off his wing again and make another stitch. “Something tells me those men wouldn’t have stopped at simply taking our food. They likely would have murdered us, too.”
Well, after raping me.
The thought is a grim one, and it reminds me that those men were humans. Liosian humans. They’re supposed to be my people. Yet every time I’m contacted with my people, they’re treating me with derision. Or worse. I think about the fluffy letters that Riza and Nurse sent, letters that were sweet and thoughtful but shared no information about the outside world, because they did not trust me with it.
“You haven’t answered,” he says. “Perhaps these feelings mean we should be together after all?”
I nod absently as I stitch, focusing on the work in front of me as I think more about my people. How those men showed up early with the supplies this time. They didn’t wait for the solstice. They said they didn’t have to…and I’m reminded of how much I struggled last year, fighting to make my candles last, fighting to make every bit of wood count. They could have brought me more at any time—Riza points out in her letter that she knew I didn’t have any—and no one did.
It hurts.
Those choices, combined with the men that broke in, make me question my kingdom at all. I know King Lionel is a complete arse. If he fell off a cliff, I’d cheer. I’ve got no love for him or this war he’s started. But he’s married to my sister, and she’s everything to me. I can’t abandon her.
And yet…she wanted me to kill Nemeth. Probably still would the moment I left this tower.
The thought sickens me. She doesn’t know him. Not like I do. She doesn’t know that he takes care of me, fusses over me when I’m not feeling well. He administers my medicine to ensure that I don’t bruise myself. He’s shared his supplies and everything he has with me, simply because he’s a good person.
Erynne wouldn’t understand that, and it feels like a knife in my chest. Nemeth’s insistence upon an honorable mating between us means I would be choosing between him and my sister.
It’s a choice I cannot make.
“It’s all right,” Nemeth says in a soft voice.
I glance over at him, startled. “Hmm?”
“If you don’t want to be with me. I know I am not the same as your kind. To them, I am a monster.” He gives me a sleepy smile. “If nothing else, I am glad I will have this time with you.”