Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Belongs with me.
Today, I will bond him to my realm in a way he won’t be able to resist.
Kelpies are too large for this dense forest, so we’re both riding our own horses, especially since I need to be as swift and mobile as possible for this challenge. I made sure Luke’s mare was sufficiently docile after being fed some boiled calmshrooms, so his lack of experience with riding shouldn’t result in falling off and breaking his neck. In fact, they seemed to have become friends, and he’s petting her mane and smiling blissfully unaware of what’s at stake today.
But I am, and I will be the one to hunt down the stag, even though it’s invulnerable to my signature weapon—the shadow. A crossbow with silver bolts will have to suffice. At least unlike in the ocean, I’m able to dip in and out of the shadowild in the royal forest, which might come in handy.
I’m not the only one to feel like this event has their future hanging in the balance. All the Goldweeds are here, as well as all the Bloodweeds, and a flurry of other nobles bearing their sharpest blades and swiftest arrows. Those who cannot participate are to wait for the hunting party in the camp made up of large tents, where we might spend the night if the beast remains unslain until moondown. Refreshments are being served by dozens of servants, and musicians play a merry tune for the highborn children who run around without a care in the world.
Those are all trifles, distractions, and no battle has ever been won in a comfortable chair.
The moon is rising, and its glow will guide us through the forest, but when I look up, all I can think of is just how close I am to marrying Luke. And on the night of the Blood Moon at that! Maybe the thwarted wedding was destiny at work after all?
When I see Luke glancing up, I wonder if he’s thinking about the same thing, imagining us holding that rose together as I vow to protect him, and he shares his shadow with me for eternity.
The weather’s perfect for riding through the forest, with a cloudless sky and barely any wind to disturb the ancient trees reaching for the moon with their leafy claws. Several hunting parties are forming, each meant to penetrate a different part of the woods. Most consist of those who believe they might get lucky and hunt down the stag and elves who accompany them to help, entertain, or secretly thwart the others’ efforts.
I tried to keep my own party small for that very reason. Elven longevity can breed plans so long in scope I can’t be certain of anyone’s true intentions. Though Tristan has proven himself loyal, and I am relatively sure he will not try to rip the prize out of my grasp for an elusive promise of more power. He’s coming with us. To aid me and to protect Luke, who will be my priority today, regardless of how the event goes.
I’m lost in my thoughts when Luke rides up to me and nudges me with his foot. “Maybe we could go with them?” he suggests, pointing out a group of four, consisting of Lady Guinevere, her Dark Companion, Carol, Marquise Coralis, and Prince Sylvan Goldweed.
It’s only natural that Luke wants to chat with the only other human present, but he can do that later, when we gather to celebrate a successful hunt. I don’t want to be anywhere near Sylvan after the hunting horn blows. He might carry the bored expression of someone who is only attending the hunt as part of his royal duties, but his future is at stake too. Born without much talent for shadowcraft, he resorted to studying alchemy in order to compensate for his meager skill. If he manages to capture the stag’s heart today, the power gained from the beast might pull him out from under his older brother’s heel and make him a player in his own right.
Even his presence in the same party as Carol is strategic, because the Stag of Sunrise is always drawn to the scent of a human. Having one around in the woods improves the chance of setting one’s eyes on the beast.
When Sylvan’s cold, sapphire gaze cuts into Luke, I ride up to my promised from the side, to shield him from the cursed eye. I open my mouth, but when Marquise Coralis rides up to us with long hair pulled into a tight bundle at the back of her head, and in a sharp suit meant for comfortable riding, I speak to her instead. “I’d rather not join them, but the Marquise would surely want to ride with her dear brother?”
The glare she sends me feels like a shard of ice stuck in my chest. “He and I are not on speaking terms, Your Highness. I would think you of all people should remember why,” she says in a voice made of razors.