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)
I stall, and in the brief time it takes for us to make this exchange, Sylvan’s group rides off, with Anatole as its final member. His remaining sister, Elodie, is arguing about something with her father, Baron Gabriel, who is a skilled hunter. A man who often traverses the forest for days on end, he might be one of my biggest competitors. My guess has always been that he does it to avoid his wife, but it’s a habit that resulted in him knowing the area better than any other noble.
“Oh… my apologies,” I mumble. I don’t feel it necessary to appease my twin’s former lover, but I don’t hate her either. The last thing I want is for this uncomfortable situation to continue. She should know by now where my interests lie.
Luke stares after the group longingly, which makes me want to hide him in the palace and never let him as much as gaze upon another man. I know it is unreasonable. He’s not interested in the Goldweeds. If anything, he’s wary of them because their sister almost killed us, but I can’t help myself.
It’s the Marquise’s presence that makes me so scattered, which is doubly frustrating because I should be focused on the stag only.
I look back at Tristan who’s busy chatting to a very drunk bard instead of mounting his horse. Couldn’t he focus on the Marquise instead so that his rakish ways are actually useful for once?
I wanted our group to stay small, with Tristan being the only additional member, but when the Marquise joined us without asking, I found myself unable to refuse her after so clearly offending her. But when I catch a glimpse of Elodie Goldweed trying to follow us, I glare straight at the baron and say, “Good luck at the hunt, Uncle. I hear the western flank of the forest might bear fruit.”
Or, as Luke would have said it, ‘Fuck off, I don’t want you here’.
Baron Gabriel stalls, surprised by my rudeness, but quickly catches himself and offers me a stiff smile. At least he rides off and takes his liar of a daughter with him.
“Are we ready?” I call out to Tristan, who glances my way with his hand on the flute in the bard’s hand.
He nods, winks at the beautiful musician and jogs back to his mount. Free from his charming presence, the bard combs back his auburn locks and struts to a large boulder marking the spot where one of my ancestors was once gored by a boar. I say nothing when the bard slides off the mossy surface and waves at his assistant, who rushes over as if she’s about to perform surgery.
“No dogs for the hunt?” Luke asks, sitting alongside me on the pliant brown mare.
“What are those?” I ask, eager to find out about any way to earn an advantage.
He stares at me with his lips parted, which must mean he thought the object of his question was obvious.
“Are they a weapon?” I urge him.
“N-no. They’re animals. Kind of like… wolves, but tamed to be pets.”
It’s my turn to stare at him wide-eyed. “Are you telling me humans domesticated wolves? Beasts with more teeth than they know what to do with and claws like knives?”
Luke rolls his eyes. “Hm. Maybe the wolves in our world are more friendly. Since everything here seems that bit more homicidal.”
“Now I see why you think you can have a pet bat.” When he makes a face, I lean over for a quick kiss. “You’re human, so maybe anything is possible for you. But no, we don’t have pet wolves to help us hunt.”
We both stiffen when the bard manages to stand on top of the boulder with the aid of his assistant, only to lean forward, as if the surface under his feet were rocking. The poor bastard must have drunk enough cherin to believe himself to be on a boat, but when he shows everyone the bejeweled horn, I dig my feet deeper into stirrups. We sit through a convoluted, if brief speech about sportsmanship, but when the bard blows the horn, it’s the stag, not fairness that’s on everyone’s mind.
I look back, to make sure Luke is doing well, but his eyes shine back at me with glee as he rides his mare behind me, and our party heads between the trees, urged by the insistent call of the horn.
The woods are especially beautiful today, with the silvery glow of the moon painting big, meaty leaves. I love the scent of nature, something I’ve been denied for most of my life, yet which I find so soothing. The damp, earthy aroma of herbs, worms, and mist reassures me with each inhale. As we go deeper into the woods, led by the colorful glow of wild fungi, each stride of my mount feels easier, smoother.