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)
“Beginnings are always a steep learning curve, but you’ll get there,” Kyran tells me, only to send a shadow whip toward my face. Instead of risking pain, I use my newfound powers to pull myself out of harm’s way, and when the dark tentacle slaps the floor, Kyran claps.
“Perfect. Minimize risk.”
Despite Sylvan taking offense at my comment about his size, wielding shadow does require strength, and I feel that in my muscles. “Gimme a second,” I say, raising my hand. I just moved my whole body weight, and we’ve been doing this for two hours. I’m pumped out. “One day, I’ll have shadow wings like Tristan, but that day has not yet come.”
Kyran grins, and I find myself lifted off my feet. Dark tendrils creeping from under his feet bring me closer, until I’m tucked to his chest. No one has ever held me the way he does, as if he needs the comfort of my presence just as much as he wants to provide it to me. It's perfection.
“He seems eager to join us as your second teacher as soon as he heals,” Kyran says and hands me a glass of water, which appears in his hand out of nowhere. In reality, he used his shadow to fetch it from the side table.
“He was impressed when I told him I was holding Sylvan’s shadow with him,” I say and gulp down the water.
Kyran’s smirk tells me that feat wasn’t impressive at all, but he won’t say it. I rest my cheek against the soft fabric of his top. We’re both wearing the elven version of sportswear for our training, which consists of stretchy leather pants that don’t restrain movement and don’t make squeaky sounds, and a long-sleeved top that clings to the body but doesn’t overheat it.
As much as I love dressing up in fancy lace and frills, it’s useful to have these as an option. I just wish I didn’t get so sweaty next to Kyran, who is the epitome of elegance. Even when he sweats, he doesn’t stink. He happens to be naturally perfect. Infuriating.
I’m embarrassed when he buries his face in my neck and smells me after all the training. When I attempt to pull away, he not only keeps me close but even lifts me up, taking away any choice I have in the matter. Not that I mind.
“You’re developing so fast. I’m proud of you.”
I wrap my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck. “Stop it! You’re gonna make me cry.” I hide my face in his hair. Maybe I have daddy issues, but no one’s ever been proud of me, and I still find it hard to accept that someone might be saying such things and mean them. I have to constantly keep myself from saying shit like ‘Oh, no, I’m so slow’, or ‘I’m useless, I’ll never get it right’. I saw firsthand how upset it made Kyran, and the last thing I want is to see him hurt over my self-esteem issues.
Kyran knocks on the door with the side of his boot, and Reiner, who’s still suffering the consequences of leaving me with Vinia, opens it for us. I offer him a smile as my prince carries me away from the training room, down a wide corridor with beautiful paintings depicting stories from this realm’s history hung on both walls. Two servants are busy in one of the alcoves we pass, swapping a large hunting scene out for several smaller pieces in ornate silver frames. I still at the sight of a familiar picture.
“No! Kyranis!” I reluctantly say his twin’s name for the benefit of the servants who might hear me. “This is nepotism. You can’t just swap that amazing painting for my doodles of Count Flapula.”
He stalls and turns, so I face the other alcove, where a still life painting I did of the midnight blue roses Kyran gifted me already takes up the space of a more deserving artwork. I’m cringing with shame, because everyone will know my art doesn’t belong in this gallery of excellence, and that the only reason it’s here is because I’m fucking the prince.
“I like them,” Kyran protests and gives my butt a little squeeze.
“Of course you do. Because I made them. But just like with the shadowcraft, I have a long way to go.” I give his pointy ear a kiss anyway. It never ceases to amaze me that he’s strong enough to carry me around with such ease.
But then I look at the painting more thoughtfully, fighting my initial reaction, and I have to admit that my still life isn’t too shabby. The paintings hung here over the years are in a variety of styles, so it’s not like mine stands out as the odd one out. Most of all, it makes me feel tender inside that Kyran’s so proud of my work. The still life depicts the flowers he gave me. Our bed is just a shape in the background, but it’s suggestively unmade, and my lobster pin features on top of his folded wedding shirt. A simple picture, but it’s filled with our secrets.