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)
“It’s the Companion’s throne, Luke. I couldn’t. Besides, I see better like this,” she whispers, leaning against my seat. “Did you know Vinia folds book corners and returns them to the library that way?”
I don’t know what to say, because… did Sabine just suggest Vinia deserves to die for dog-earing books? I sink deeper into my seat, glancing at the bloodthirsty gloss over Sabine’s golden eyes. I’m definitely not in fucking Kansas anymore, and now I know why my outfit for today features so many red elements.
The crowd of onlookers in fine clothes simmers with not-too-discreet bloodlust, which makes Sylvan’s slouched form stand out all the more in the far off corner. He alone is mourning what is to happen here, and while his sister did try to kill me, I can’t help but feel responsible for her impending death.
A part of me feels she’s already gone, and seeing her step back and bristle as she watches Kyran like a cornered mouse might a cat seeps guilt into my heart. If I stood up and asked my prince to stop all this and grant her mercy, would he do it?
If he did, would he resent me for embarrassing him in front of the court? Or would he simply ignore me, proving once and for all that the respect and adoration I’m being given are smoke and mirrors.
Decorum.
Pageantry.
Meant for the bedroom at best and taken away at his whim.
But I sit in silence, because deep down, maybe I’m not that good a human being. I remember the water rising around me, Kyran almost drowning to save me, his pale lips turning blue after the despair attack. Back then, I hated Vinia with all my heart and wanted her to suffer for what she did.
I watch her tear-streaked cheeks now and find myself not caring that she’s small, or a woman. She knew what she was doing and even manipulated me into thinking I was talking her into sending me down there.
But will I still think that when I see her blood?
Tristan leans a little lower and whispers, “The prince will be fine. He always lands on his feet.”
Yes. In the past. Because the prince Tristan is thinking of, had a capable twin brother always watching over him. This Kyranis is all alone against adversity.
“If something goes wrong… will someone intervene?” I find myself asking as the languid music quickens, adjusting to the way the two opponents size each other up. Kyran makes his first move, circling Vinia like a wolf would a lamb.
Tristan frowns. “Oh. No. Once the duel is announced, there’s no going back. But don’t worry. Vinia doesn’t have much skill with shadows.”
I swallow, more distressed than I expected to be. My stomach clenches, bile rises in my throat, yet I can’t look away from the man wearing my good luck charm. I’m not excited about this spectacle the way the courtiers are, but I stare all the same, squeezing the armrests of the throne.
“Will it be quick?” I ask, but before Tristan can answer, a light erupts in what has become an arena. The same warm yellow brightness that emanated from the lantern Vinia gave me as she urged me down those treacherous stairs, is now filling the dome and dispersing every shadow inside it.
Sabine covers her mouth, and the atmosphere sobers, as if everyone has realized their punch has been poisoned. A chill crawls up my spine when Tristan takes a step forward, visibly tense.
“Did you know she can do that?” he whispers. Sabine shakes her head as Kyran stands straighter, almost as if he only got serious about this fight now.
The warm light rakes over the faces of onlookers with its brightness, changing the pretty elven faces into Halloween masks.
“What is it?” I ask with my heart beating faster.
“It’s Sunlight,” Sabine says through clenched teeth. “It weakens shadow magic, and since she knows her life is at stake, she’s using all she has.”
“Where the fuck did she get it?” Tristan huffs, clutching the back of my throne.
“She might have been born with it if her parents planned it well in advance. It would explain why she’s unable to wield shadow,” says his sister.
I listen to those musings, desperate to soak in as much knowledge as I can, but all I can think of is my prince’s safety.
“Is this dangerous to Kyran—is?” I choke out.
Tristan grunts. “If you were his Dark Companion, he could just use your shadow.”
Guilt seeps even into my bones, because it’s my fault I’m not bound to him yet. And while I feel I had the right to fear the rushed marriage, my actions put Kyran in danger.
“How so?”
“Your human shadow was forged under the sun. It can’t be dispersed. Not by the guards’ wall, not by Vinia’s Sunlight, not even by Heartbreak.”
I watch Kyran pull out his sword but initially it appears he’s grabbed at air. It’s only when he changes his stance a bit that I spot the very outline of the blade, which is transparent now, as if made of glass. Not a wisp of shadow in sight.