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)
“Where are my manners?” The man places an empty hand over his heart. “I’m Faris, the second of the triumvirate. The other two enjoy standing on ceremony, of course, but I see no benefit in waiting to meet you and therefore am here.” He bows slightly, then lifts his gaze as he straightens.
I blink and fight against the urge to stare. His eyes are so blue they’re actually…purple. And here I’d thought Dad had written that part of the tome in hyperbole.
“Welcome to Hedotis.” He turns his smile on me. “You have very unusual eyes. Not entirely blue or green or gold, but an amalgamation of all. Fascinating.”
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” I admit.
“Mine are quite common on our isle,” he says. “I’ve brought my household to formally make your acquaintance and escort you through our beautiful city. If you’re amenable, we have room for you to rest at our home on the northeast shore.” He gestures up the beach, then glances back over his shoulder. “Darling, won’t you come say hello? I apologize for my wife. Talia seems to be overcome by your magnificent dragons.”
“I’m here, my love,” Talia says as she walks up the pathway behind him, her pale green gown and long black hair catching in the breeze. She moves to his side, then quickly laces their fingers before lifting her gaze. Her dark-brown eyes settle on Xaden immediately, and they flare in blatant, palpable shock.
“Is there a problem?” Faris asks.
She studies Xaden with a desperate intensity that puts us firmly in awkward territory, and Xaden must feel the same, given that he’s practically petrified into a piece of stone beside me.
“Oh, shit.” Garrick’s face drains of color.
“Xaden?” Talia whispers, lifting her hand, then quickly dropping it. “Is it really you?”
My eyebrows hit my fucking hairline.
Xaden reaches across me and wraps his hand over my hip like I need protection. “Mom.”
It has been the experience of my lifetime to spend these months with others who value knowledge just as reverently as I do. But though their intelligence and their wisdom inspire me, their artifice terrifies me.
—Hedotis: Isle of Hedeon by Captain Asher Sorrengail
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Of all the ways I’d envisioned getting to know Xaden’s mother, holding her at bay in a bedroom doorway of her own house while her son refuses to see her definitely never came to mind.
“This is very kind of you.” I balance the silver tray of snacks she’s just delivered on one hand and grip the golden doorknob with the other. “I’ll be sure he gets these. And thank you for sending our missives.”
Having seen renderings of Fen Riorson, I can definitely say that Xaden takes after him in looks, but there are traces of Talia, too. Xaden shares her high cheekbones, her long eyelashes, and even the shape of her ears, but it’s the gold flecks in their eyes that make the biological link undeniable.
Hopefully Andarna’s kind will know how to bring the gold back fully in Xaden’s.
“It was lucky a ship bound for Deverelli was in the harbor to take your correspondence.” Talia uses her considerable height advantage to peer over my head into our bedroom with eyes so full of longing that pity wraps around my rib cage, then constricts. “I was hoping he might want to talk?”
He definitely does not.
“He’s resting.” I force a quick, sympathetic smile and pull the door closer, narrowing her scope of vision.
“What about dinner? He should meet the rest of the family.”
What an awful idea. He’s been nearly catatonic since this morning, and she wants to throw a party with people he’s never met? “I’ll ask, but that might be a lot for him to—”
“We’ll keep it small, then.” Talia’s face falls with her gaze and she purses her lips, forming little golden-brown lines around her mouth. “I was so young when he was born,” she whispers, staring at the doorframe. “Still young when the contract expired. I never thought I’d get to see him again, and now that he’s here…” Tears fill her eyes as she slowly looks at me. “You understand, right?”
What in Amari’s name am I supposed to say to that? Of course I can’t understand how anyone would leave him, but—
“Tell her the truth. He loathes her,” Tairn suggests. “As does Sgaeyl. The life-giver is lucky she wasn’t scorched this morning, though I do believe Sgaeyl is still contemplating her options.”
Because that would be great for international relations, considering who Talia is married to.
“That’s his mother,” Andarna argues. “What would you do, Violet?”
“I’m not the person to ask about motherly relationships,” I reply. Grief slices quick and deep, giving strength to the pity that’s stretching its viny little tethers toward my heart. “I understand wanting to know him,” I tell Talia. “He is spectacular in every way—”
“Then you’ll let—” She steps toward me.