Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
It should irritate me to agree to check in with him regularly, that I'm basically allowing him to dictate my schedule. But...I've always had my schedule dictated for me by others. The Heir doesn't get to decide what he wants or where he feels like going. In this, my life is not changing. It's a concession that's easy for me to give and one I know will prove my sincerity.
Rem nods. "Done."
I'm pleased, some of the tension I've been carrying for the last few weeks slipping away. "Excellent. I'm glad we see eye to eye."
"Your cover story should be that you've decided to live a life of religious devotion and have chosen to abdicate," Rem states. "We will tell the public I've been covering for you."
I shake my head. "I don't want to lie. I can't keep up a lie about a religious epiphany. We'll come up with something. Give me a little time to mull it over."
Rem has difficulty taking “no” for an answer, though. "Nature, then. You've decided to become one with the forests on Garrato VII. You like the lodge there."
I do. The trees there are enormous, stretching taller than buildings, the ground cool with morning fog, and the entire place smells fresh and clean and not like cattle. "We will tell them I have become what the humans call 'veee-gann.'" At his perplexed head-tilt, I continue. "Human devotees to nature that eat nothing but plants."
My brother's ice facade crumbles and he actually snorts. "Let's make it believable at least."
The simplest answer is the obvious one—that I've married a female and decided to retire from public life. But I will not volunteer Maeve's safety for a simple answer. Nor will I involve another female. I can't bear the thought of anyone but Maeve.
Thinking of her reminds me that I made a promise. "I have one more request, brother. You need to free your human."
Tension immediately sets in, and the faint amusement in Rem's face dissipates entirely. "Excuse me?"
"The human you're marrying—it's under duress. Another human spotted it right away. You shouldn't be marrying someone controversial anyhow. If you want to have an ironclad seat upon Praxii Minor's throne, marry a praxiian. Kef, marry a mesakkah if you must. Just not the human."
"You don't get to tell me who I marry." Remrrrtel's expression has turned downright unpleasant. "It is no concern of yours."
"It is one of my demands, and you need me."
"I don't need anything." Rem's eyes become slits of ice and he leans forward, stabbing a long claw at the greasy table between us. "I will keep you safe. I will accept your abdication at my wedding. I will give in to all your demands, but you do not interfere with my marriage."
"She doesn't want you—"
"I. Don't. CARE." Rem's voice is a growl, growing louder by the moment. People around us stop and stare in surprise. I'm surprised, too. My normally cool brother is absolutely livid. "You will not interfere! You do not speak to Leah. You do not even look at Leah. You do not mention Leah to anyone other than to support my wedding. It is not your concern, and I said I would not harm you, but if you try to get in the way of my wedding, I will take action."
So he wouldn't murder me for the throne, but he will for this strange human woman who doesn't even want him? I can't win against that.
CHAPTER
ONE HUNDRED THIRTEEN
MAEVE
Hands on hips, I frown at Salvotor as if he's the root of all my problems. "What do you mean, he's not coming back?"
Salvotor tromps around the outside of my pasture fence, beaming at the cows as they crowd into the barn for the automated vitamin pellets and the quick daily check the bots give them. He loves watching this, as if it's something special to be enjoyed each time it happens. In the five days since Salvotor arrived and Zhur left, the barn has been the focus of most of Salvotor's energy.
Probably wouldn't be a good thing if I was under threat, but I'm not.
"I mean he's not coming back," Salvotor says, leaning over the fence to pat the rump of a cow. "You got a comm."
"I did?" My jaw drops, my stupid heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and terror. "From Zhur? When?"
"Earlier today—"
"And you're just telling me now?"
"I forgot. There's so many things to see here," Salvotor tells me. "Do you think the vitamin pellets they eat taste good? You think people could eat them?"
I don't even answer. I race back to the house as fast as my feet will carry me, Salvotor's distracted words running circles in my head. You got a comm. He's not coming back.
Is Zhur safe? Is he all right? Is his brother keeping him under lock and key?