Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I might as well not exist for all that he pays attention to me.
He’s just not used to having a wife, I remind myself. He’ll need time to get used to another person around.
We come upon a long, sandy stretch of shore with white beaches leading up to tall hills of vibrant green. I’ve heard the lands to the south of Aventine are nothing but dirt, that all the magic has been soaked up from the ground, leaving nothing able to grow. This obviously isn’t that place, but I don’t know where we are. There are a couple of broken-down-looking boats at the far end of the beach, near some jagged-looking rocks, and a hut on stilts. Someone lives around here, then. A friend of Ranan’s?
Somehow, I find it difficult to think of Ranan as having friends. He barely speaks to his wife.
My face feels hot as the massive turtle steers towards the shore, jostling us when she climbs over a sand bank. I glance down at my bare arms and they’re reddened from the endless sunlight. I’m sure I’m going to hurt later, but for now, I’m just enjoying the warmth. I’d rather be warm than shiver, and since my only dress is getting worse by the day, I’ll be happy with nothing but sunshine.
The turtle skims her way into shallow waters and then turns slightly, settling into the sands. Waves crash against her shell, jostling the ground underneath my feet. I look over at Ranan, who wades out to the shore. “Can I go look around?”
He glances over at me, and I get the impression that he’d almost forgotten I was here. “Stay close.”
“I won’t go far,” I tell him brightly. “I just want to look around. Maybe find some pretty shells.”
Ranan makes a flicking gesture with his hand, indicating that I should follow. I move to the side of the turtle and slide into the water…and sputter when it goes over my head. I keep forgetting how very tall my new husband is. A large hand fishes me out of the water, and then an arm locks around my waist. He hauls me toward the shore like I’m a sack of grain and plops me down on the sand the moment we clear the waves. I cough, brushing my wet and wave-ravaged hair off my face. “Thank you.”
“Stay close to Akara,” he growls at me.
“Who’s Akara?”
He gives me an irritated look and stabs a finger at the turtle. Oh. The turtle has a name? Of course it does. Why wouldn’t a turtle have a name? Is it some sort of pet to him, then? More than just a moving island he lives atop? Perhaps Akara is all these things, and I feel foolish for assuming that the turtle is nothing but a means of moving about. Even farmers name their chickens.
“Hello Akara,” I call out to the turtle from my spot on the shore. The creature doesn’t answer, but that’s not unexpected. I can’t even see its head from here. As I straighten, Ranan stalks down the beach. All right, that message is clear—we’re not spending time together.
At least now I have an entire beach to explore.
I spend the next while going up and down the small inlet beach, curling my toes in the warm sands. I’m thirsty, but Ranan didn’t leave the waterskin with me so I’m just going to have to wait. I do find shells, though. There are some large ones, bigger than my palm, and with a deep belly full of shine. I hold each one, determining if it will make a good cup. Two of them are very close in size, and I hold them up to my breasts, wondering if I can make myself some sort of corset with leather straps that will keep everything from bobbing.
The shells are so lovely that I can’t help but gather all of the ones that I find. There’s one that gleams iridescent in the light, and another spiky blue one that has a tiny hole bored through the center that would make a lovely necklace. Like a greedy child, I grip the edges of my dress to act as a sack, using it to hold all the shells as I wander about. Perhaps we can go to a market and I can sell my finds for a few coins at least. I’m sure people farther inland would pay for such charming oddities. They’d make great decorations, and I immediately start to think of all the things people could make with them. Bowls. Spoons. Candle-holders. Shiny bits could be sewn into the neck of a tunic—
“Well, well, well!”
The voice is so raspy and unfamiliar it makes me jump. Several of the shells tumble out of my skirt and land on the sands at my feet. I turn, eyeing the man that’s snuck up on me while I’ve been distracted with my finds.