Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 235897 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1179(@200wpm)___ 944(@250wpm)___ 786(@300wpm)
I guess an isle kingdom kidnapping your prince qualifies as just in case.
I can’t help but do a double take at one of the orbs as I walk by, stepping into the path. The blue glow isn’t from a single light source, but dozens of large, bioluminescent insects with translucent wings, all feeding from— A smile breaks across my face. “They’re Fallorinia moths.”
“What?” Xaden’s boots crunch on the rocky path as he walks my way.
“Fallorinia moths.” I touch the cool glass orb. “We don’t have them on the Continent, just their sister species. They light up when they feed from honeycomb. I read about them in Sir Zimly’s Guide to Deverelli Fauna, but I had no idea they harnessed them for light. It’s brilliant. Poisonous but brilliant.”
“Of course you did,” Xaden counters. “But we should probably concentrate on the dozen pissed-off guards headed our way.”
“Fair point.” I throw my braid over my shoulder, cursing that I hadn’t had time to put it up as usual, and turn to face the approaching horde of angry white-clad Deverelli. I’m guessing we have less than ten seconds, and those spear tips look mighty unfriendly. My hands dangle near the sheaths along my sides, but Xaden stands with his feet braced apart, his arms folded across his chest as if he isn’t that concerned.
But his eyes sweep across the group methodically, no doubt putting them all into threat categories. I focus on the fox-like woman on the right who keeps flaring her nose and stepping off the path like I won’t notice, and her male counterpart on the left, doing his best to fade into the shadows, not realizing he’s in the presence of a master.
“Look, more blades,” Xaden says. “And here I thought you were a weaponless society.”
The one in the center with a blue sash steps forward and starts shouting. I can only pick out a few words, two of which are stop and kill.
“We could really use Dain right about now,” I whisper.
“I could live the rest of my life without ever hearing you say that again,” Xaden replies.
We could really use the bond, too.
“Do any of you happen to speak the common tongue?” I ask when the serrated silver blades of their raised spears are about five feet from our chests.
They pause, and I shoot a warning look at the nose-flarer on my right.
“You are forbidden to enter the palace of King Courtlyn the Fourth,” Blue Sash declares, jabbing his blade in our direction but not close enough to merit a reaction, “ruler of Deverelli, master of the trade, keeper of the troths, justice of the tribunal, and heir of the antiquities.”
By the time he finishes, it’s hard to keep my brows level.
“Sounds humble,” Xaden says. “Can’t wait to meet him.”
“You won’t be.” Blue Sash steps forward, blade raised.
My hands flex near my sheaths as the woman on my right swings her blade back and forth between me and Tairn’s slow but steady approach. His head is low, almost even with the ground, and his wings are tucked in tight for protection. If I wasn’t his, I’d probably be shitting my pants.
“We will,” Xaden counters with a bored sigh. “And I’m trying really hard to be diplomatic, since that’s the role I’ve been handed, but let me put this in terms you’ll understand. Your king kidnapped our asshole of a prince, and there’s a large part of me that wouldn’t mind him staying here and annoying the shit out of you for the rest of his miserable life, but that would make things difficult back home for someone I have…complicated loyalty toward, so I’m going to need the prick back.”
Aaric.
Blue Sash’s brow puckers, but his blade doesn’t lower.
“Now,” Xaden orders. “I have much more important things to see to this evening.”
Flare Nose to my right swings her blade fully at Tairn and pulls back her arm, preparing to thrust with a full-on battle cry.
I draw my blade the same second Tairn drops his jaw and roars, the sound shattering every glass orb within a dozen feet of us and leaving my ears ringing.
“Was that really necessary?” My right ear won’t work for a month.
“No, but I found it amusing.”
The guard drops her spear and stands there, shaking like a leaf for several seconds before she slowly turns around to face us, her brown eyes wider than should be physically possible, her bronzed skin suddenly rather wan.
I tilt my head at her. “They don’t like it when you do that.”
Trembling, she drags her gaze to mine, then collapses to sit on the ground.
There’s a definite quiver in Blue Sash’s arms, but I give him credit for still holding his blade. “You. May not. Enter.”
“I’m Xaden Riorson, the Duke of Tyrrendor.” Xaden inclines his head. “He’s probably expecting me.”
Blue Sash blinks, then looks in my direction. “And you are?”