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’m not a great rider, but good enough to traverse the expanse of grassy undergrowth separating me from Carol’s red cape. Kyran made sure I got the most pliant horse, and we spent time together last week with him teaching me the basics.
My heart thrashes in my chest when my mount leaps over a fallen tree, but the moon is growing each night, and I feel time ticking away all too fast in Kyran’s charming presence. If Carol isn’t welcome at court, I have to seize this opportunity, even if it means making my prince angry.
They’re faster than me, and likely have no idea about my presence, but I refuse to give up and follow them along a broad path through the woods.
I haven’t thought about an excuse I can give them for being alone. I’m too frantic, and too busy trying not to fall off. Just as I’m about to make my last attempt to speed up so I can reach Carol and her Lady, a voice from the side startles me.
“Luke? Are you lost? Is the prince all right?” Anatole asks, riding up to me. His long hair is in a tight braid falling down his back, and it appears white in the moonlight.
Fuck.
I can’t just say ‘I’m here to talk to Carol, byeeee!’so I take a deep breath, staring ahead at the sliver of red lost between the trees. “The woods are so confusing. One moment I was with them, the next, we lost sight of each other.”
Anatole scoffs. “If you were mine, I wouldn’t have taken my eyes off you. It’s dangerous out here. Especially for a human,” he says, matching my pace.
His words flare up so many conflicting feelings. I’m not impressed by his blatant flirting, mad at his criticism of Kyran when I was the one to suggest he talks to Marquise Coralis in the first place, but also scared as I remember the touch of sentient thorns trying to rip me apart when I first stepped off the track in the Nightmare Realm. It feels like it’s been years since.
“I’m sure Prince Kyranis will soon find me. The shadow bond we have isn’t easily broken.” Which only reminds me I don’t have much time.
“Sometimes, that’s a curse,” Anatole says, his expression more serious. “We have been coercing humans into bonds with shadow-wielders for so long now, but there should be other ways to fight Heartbreak. It’s a shame it’s so difficult to get the prince’s ear.”
“What other ways?”
“Our alchemists, astronomers, masters of shadowcraft, and wisers have many suggestions we could put to the test instead of the blunt force of a sword dipped in your shadow. The beast ought to be slayed for good, not chased away only to come back like a storm. Until all its hearts beat no more, it will keep returning for more.”
This feels way above my pay grade.
“I’m sure the prince will listen in the future, but with all the omens of Heartbreak’s upcoming visit, this is not the right time for experimenting.”
“Yes, and look what happened to James! It’s been seven years since he’s been stuck in the shadowild, and nobody even mentions him by name,” Anatole says as we reach the party, but Carol and her Lady remain out of my reach. Goddamn it.
“I heard divers were sent…” I don’t know what those divers might be. Did they dive into the shadowild? Under the sea? I’m pretty sure Kyran mentioned going into the shadowild is impossible when not on dry land.
“And no body was found,” Anatole adds grimly. “Wouldn’t it be better if there was a way to not endanger Dark Companions? To not endanger… you?” He meets my gaze, and I’m torn between feeling uncomfortable and flattered.
But before I can answer, someone yells up front, “The stag!”, and Anatole grabs his bow.
Golden radiance streams through a thatch of thin, bamboo-like trees far ahead. Shadows move, then fade as the animal runs off. Ahead of us, Sylvan whistles at his horse and dashes past Carol and her Lady as if he’s possessed by the urge to get his hands on the creature’s heart, but his family doesn’t stay far behind.
I should have worn my moonshard glasses, but I worried they’d fall off while I’m on horseback, and now I can barely see the other hunting party in the dark.
I nudge my mount with my heels, perhaps a bit too firmly, and she dashes forward, making me stiffen. I’m not used to riding so fast, especially not with low branches smacking my face, but I might get lost if I fail to catch up now. It’s pathetic that I need to depend on the protection of others, but I’m not dying for the sake of being perceived as brave.
This chase is already more exhilarating than any rollercoaster I’ve been on. A primal part of me wants to chase the stag, even though I have no weapon to put it down with.