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)
“How will we know what to look for?” Luke asks.
Tristan butts in before I can answer. “Easy, you’re the bait, the stag will come for you. The best we can do is to ride deep into the forest, far from the other parties.”
“What?” Luke chokes out, stiffening.
It’s not how I would have answered, because there’s no point in scaring Luke, but Tristan is correct.
“You’re in no danger around us, my darling,” I say and stroke his back through the velvet cape. “The Stag of Sunrise is drawn to you, but we will catch it when it approaches. You will recognize its golden fur from afar. It carries the same glow Vinia fought with. We think it doesn’t actually want to kill humans, but because it can sense sunlight still lingering on you, it wants to be… one with you. Sadly, that usually means getting gored by its antlers and eaten. Something that will not happen to you,” I repeat so it’s clear to him that he’s safe.
Luke seems lost in thought as he assesses the dense woods around us. “Should I have… a weapon?”
“Not unless you’re proficient with it,” I tell him as we ride down the path and into a narrow gully shaped as if a giant struck the rock with a massive axe.
“If it has the power of Sunlight, is it also invulnerable to your shadow? Will I need to lend you mine?”
“That’s why we have regular weapons,” I say and reach back to tap the ornamental crossbow on my back. “This is the one my father killed a Stag of Sunrise with.” It’s odd to talk that way about a man who barely acknowledged my existence. As if I took a step too far into impersonating my brother.
“My Prince, may I have a word in private?” the Marquise asks, riding up to me from the other side as soon as we are out of the gully.
Really? Now?
I make myself glance at her, but all I can think of is that the other hunting parties are close, and that I would rather leave them all far behind, so the stag doesn’t end up killed by Sylvan, or some other upstart, as it’s on the way to Luke. “Can’t it wait?”
“Must it?” she asks, “I have been trying to speak to you for weeks.”
I hate that Luke is hearing this, but he reaches out to pat my thigh.
“Maybe this is a good opportunity?” Luke suggests, already slowing his horse, as if to make the choice for me.
He’s right. It’s childish of me to avoid an unpleasant interaction. I’ve killed, I’ve spent weeks alone, and I pored over books on taxation and Court policy. I can talk to one woman, who thinks I used to be her lover.
“All right,” I say, pretending that my stomach isn’t cramping as I nod at Tristan, to let him know it won’t be long.
I invite the Marquise along with a broad gesture and ride into a thatch of dragonweeds growing a bit farther to the right. The thick, purple leaves slap my face the way the Marquise surely wants to, but I use those last moments of silence to gather my thoughts. Maybe I shouldn’t have stalled. Maybe I should have been clear with her early on instead of waiting for her to get the hint and maybe focus on some other man? Just a few moments later, we reach a moonlit clearing and I pull on the lead to turn my horse and face her.
With black paint outlining her eyes and mouth, she appears intimidatingly somber, as if she’s about to attend an audience with the emperor, not end a relationship. Then again, maybe she still refuses to acknowledge that whatever flame she believed used to burn between her and my twin has long been extinguished.
“Marquise,” I say, nodding at her with stiff politeness.
She takes a deep breath and one more look around before our eyes meet. “I understand that you have brought your future Dark Companion into the fold, that you need to court him and pander to him, but is there really a need to toss me aside like some old plaything? We never made promises, but it’s not right. I deserve an explanation.”
Whatever words I believed I had for her are gone, as if her gaze has poured acid into my skull. “I— that’s not—” I clear my throat and comb through my horse’s mane, hoping that avoiding her face might make this easier on me. “You know what kind of man I am,” I say, and while this is exactly how I thought about my twin, I flinch at the scoff she answers with.
“And so I never assumed you’d only have one lover, but why disappear from my life? Did we not have fun? Did we not become close? I’m fine with sharing, even if I didn’t expect a man in the picture.”