Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
The fine silks, the heeled shoes which make me that little bit taller, and most of all, my books on alchemy. If I leave them here, Mrs. Moor will likely burn them.
“Fuck!” I let myself lose patience as I try to choose one or two to take with me. I needed two servants to lift this damn trunk. “I don’t have that much, the bare bones of this room belonged to her son. But I can’t leave the books behind. Is there any chance you might lift this with me?”
He frowns, shuts the lid of the trunk, and then, like a madman, grabs the handle on one side with both hands. I roll my eyes, about to tell him it’s no use, but then my luggage leaves the ground, and Hawk exhales. “What the hell do you have in there? Rocks?” he asks as he places it on the bed. “Do you have rope? Will be easier if I can tie it to my back.”
I stare at him for a moment, but I appreciate his ingenuity. And strength. “Yes, I think this could work.” I pull off the rope tying the curtains, then watch him fashion it into a strap while I finish dressing in the drab human clothes. It has to be said that they will be comfortable for travel. I don’t even know how far away Boston is.
It doesn’t take us long to grab every single item I own, including my lava lamp, and the ugly human toothbrush made of white plastic. I'm numb as I assist him with tying the trunk to his back. He looks like an overgrown turtle but still smiles at me in encouragement, as if this is all nothing. “Just one thing. I want to be discreet. Can you distract her so she doesn’t see my face?”
After years of surviving intrigues at the Nocturne Court, I expect the worst, and worry he’s trying to rob me without witnesses, but that’s absurd. We made a deal that is beneficial to him. Surely he wouldn’t leave without me.
This must be about him spending a night in my bed. I’ve learned in unpleasant ways that many humans have an issue with same-sex relations. Mrs. Moor ranted to me about her son the day I arrived, and as little love as I have for Lord Kyran’s Dark Companion, I don’t envy him his mother.
If Hawk doesn’t wish to be seen with me, I will oblige even if it stings after the night we spent together. “I will do my best.”
He gives me a thumbs up and waddles forward, keeping both his hands on the walls of the hallway, likely to avoid hitting them with the trunk. My stomach is in my throat as I step toward the stairs and listen to the angry sound of the TV Mrs. Moor spends lots of time watching in the kitchen. For a moment, I’m paralyzed by the desire to avoid confrontation by heading straight for the exit, but I’ve promised to protect Hawk’s identity, and I shall not disgrace myself by going back on my word.
Two exhales later, I run down the stairs and head into my hostess’s beige kingdom. After two months in the human world, I am aware they don’t consider whites and pastels to be mourning colors, but knowledge doesn’t change the way the washed-out tones around me make me feel. It doesn’t help that the sun seems particularly bright today.
Mrs. Moor glares my way, cradling her favorite mug as if it were a weapon she might need to use against me if I lash out. “Keys. I don’t want to ever see you again.”
I put the keys on the counter. “I can’t say it’s been a pleasure, Mrs. Moor.” There. Why not tell her what I think before leaving? I wish I had the courage to confront my own mother, but I’ve been banished for five decades, and I feared I might need her support by the time I return to the Nocturne Court, weak, gray, and wrinkled like a prune.
But who am I kidding? My mother is a woman so intimidating only Lord Kyran himself dares put her in her place.
I stiffen when Mrs. Moor shoots up from her chair and swats my arm. “How dare you? No wonder your family chose to abandon you,” she spits out, pursing her mouth in an angry grimace.
My superior elven hearing picks up the click of the door on the other side of the house as Hawk leaves this ugly place. The relief of it doesn’t make the stabbing pain of her words any less hurtful, but she has already kicked me out. I no longer have to prostrate myself before her.
“Amusing, coming from one whose own son chose to forsake her.”
Her eyes go wide and… she grabs my arm. Something I have not accounted for from a middle-aged human lady. “My son chose to abandon all morals I raised him with and became another man’s house boy, so I am glad I will never see him again!”