Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
I lifted one and looked at the bottom. It was a snake. The other, a lick of flame.
I wondered what each stamp was used for and each color of wax or if he just used them at his fancy.
I’d ask.
One day.
And he’d answer.
Because I’d be his wife and I should know such things.
And I could not deny that this thought made me feel oddly giddy.
In that moment, however, I could not give in to feeling giddy. I had a whole other room to explore as Mars’s rooms took over the entire end of the west wing.
I scurried across the room, seeing what I hadn’t before, bookshelves encased on either side of the wall that led to the archway to the pool, and they were filled with books.
I smiled to myself, even more giddy in the knowledge that I would get to peruse those later, and darted across the tiled floor of the bathing room, through some sheer black curtains…
And I was in the bedchamber.
“Faith,” I breathed.
An enormous bed on a podium up three steps. These steps were carpeted in a snowy-white fur. The bed had an overhang that came down from the ceiling painted in blacks and reds with accents of gold. From the corners of the overhang, black sheers fell, bunched to blossom a little more than halfway up the bedposts. An apricot velvet padded headboard. Dozens of pillows at the head. Luxurious furs as covers.
The floor was black marble and it gleamed so brightly, I fancied I could look down and it would mirror my face.
Tufted footstools. More divans. Mirrored chests. Vases with fresh flowers.
It wasn’t opulence.
It wasn’t lavishness.
It was sumptuous.
I quickly moved to the two arches on the wall facing east and shoved aside the sheer black curtains that covered one.
More sumptuousness.
A dressing room. Velvet covered daybed. Furs for rugs. Shelves of clothes, boots, sandals. Gilt-edged mirrors. All in black with accents of gold and red.
I moved to the other arch.
This would be mine.
I knew because it was the same, except much more feminine, in apricots with accents of red and gold.
There was a door at the back.
Likely where Tril would be (I hoped, we didn’t like to be far from one another).
I turned back to the room.
So he gave me a monkey.
And he gave me a palace.
And he gave me his attention.
And he thought I was beautiful.
I did not know what would be my part in quelling the Beast.
I just was beginning to think that, at the side of the King of Firenze, I would find the courage to do just about anything.
On that thought, I heard the door to the chamber open.
“Balls,” I whispered, felt the tingle along my back, threw out my arm and gathered my shadow around me, hurrying across the large room as Mars strode in, pulling his hide shirt over his head.
I stutter-stepped at the view of his chest.
He dropped this shirt to the floor, looked right at me, stopped abruptly, and said, “Silence?”
Erm.
What?
I noticed the air undulating all around.
My shadow was up.
How did he know I was there?
“Silence,” he growled, striding to me, his long legs meaning he was to me in a thrice.
His big hands fell on my shoulders and then they moved to cup the sides of my neck as he bent to me.
“Is all well?”
His handsome face with its scars and piercings was filled with concern.
“You can see me?” I whispered.
“Yes, piccolina, you’re standing right here,” he replied, giving my neck a wee squeeze.
I dropped the shadow, but when I did, Mars’s brows inched together, and his head twitched as if he’d seen it go but he didn’t know what it was.
Only I could see it go.
How could he see it go?
“Mars,” I called, and he focused again on me.
“Do your piercing hurt?” he demanded.
“Erm…no.”
“Mama gave you a draught?”
I nodded.
“And one for tonight, so you can sleep without discomfort?” he asked.
I nodded again.
“You must leave the hoops in, Silence,” he ordered. “And sleep on your back or your left side so they don’t snag the pillows and cause you pain.”
And again, I nodded.
“Did your father upset you?” he queried.
I shook my head, now confused.
“No,” I answered. “Why would he do that?”
“I just saw him in the hall. He was being vexing.”
Oh dear.
Father being vexing to Mars.
“What did he do?” I queried.
“It matters not. Now, what are you doing in my bedchamber?”
Erm…
How to explain this?
“Silence,” he prompted.
“I wanted to see,” I blurted.
Now it was he who looked confused.
And truly…
How could he make confused look handsome and manly?
“See what?” he inquired.
“Where I would, erm…be sleeping.”
“Ah,” he murmured, lifting up but not taking his hands from me.
He then studied me with a mixture of tenderness, concern and something I didn’t understand.
To stop him from doing that as it was making me feel strange, I noted, “You haven’t mentioned what you think about my piercings.”