Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Who are you?”
“Lady Diana. Of Cornwall,” I blurt. It’s the first name that came to mind. Still, playing a role on the fly feels like slipping into an old, comfortable coat. I used to do this all the time. Except now I’m doing it with an audience, something I don’t enjoy.
The crowd hums with curiosity.
“Cornwall. Never heard of it.” He eyes my outfit with doubt. That I’m gnawing on this pretzel probably doesn’t scream nobility either. Perhaps I should temper that.
“It’s near Hawkrest. And it’s safer to travel like this in these parts, with those marauders in the hills. Even with my skilled guard”—I gesture at Elisaf, whose expression is the flattest I’ve ever seen—“you can never be too careful.”
The keeper’s eyes narrow on Elisaf’s polished breastplate. “Yes … well, Lady Diana of Cornwall, I don’t see what business it is of an easterner what a keeper in the west does with those tryin’ to kill him.”
“Oh, no business of mine at all, really. I just missed the first part of your big reveal. How did he”—I lean forward, closer to the boy—“sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Pan, my lady. My name’s Pan.” His voice trembles.
“Nice to meet you, Pan.” I smile. “How did Pan try to murder you?”
The blacksmith gives me an exasperated look. “He took the poison.”
I gasp, pressing my free hand to my chest. “Oh my goodness, I heard rumor of that. I wasn’t sure it was true. How does it work? How do they take it?”
“They ingest it.”
“But how? Do they swallow it? Put it in their drinks? How much do they need to take?”
“You’d have to ask Pan. He didn’t take it in front of me.”
“No?”
“Of course not. He’s no fool, but I know he did. I watched him throw the vial into the river—”
“And what did the vial look like?”
The blacksmith falters on the question. “Like a vial.”
“But we should know what to look out for. Was it black, white, clear—”
“I didn’t get a look at it.” He’s losing patience with me.
“So, it could have been a coin, like Pan says.”
His eyes narrow. “Except it wasn’t.”
“Or it was, and you’re ready to put an innocent boy to death.”
“Except he ain’t innocent!” the blacksmith roars, finally seeing through my act.
“Except you have no proof!” I raise my voice to match.
Pan watches us lob retorts back and forth, his eyes wide.
Steel rings in the air. Elisaf has drawn his sword.
I raise my hand to stall him. This blacksmith can’t be foolish enough to stab Lady Diana of Cornwall with his dagger, especially not with an entire square of witnesses. Even the fiddler has stopped her recital.
“And how do you suggest I obtain that proof?”
“You could feed off Pan.”
“You wish me to prove my claim with my corpse?” He bellows with hollow laughter and gestures toward Pan. “Please, be my guest. As his keeper, I will grant you access to his vein so you can get the proof yourself.”
I hold up my half-eaten pretzel. “I’m still digesting. Thanks.”
“A convenient excuse.” He addresses the crowd as he continues, “I can only assume she knows my fears are well founded.”
Clever bugger. I try a different strategy. “Why would Pan want to poison you? Unless you haven’t been a good keeper—”
“I’m an excellent keeper!” the blacksmith boasts as Pan shakes his head furtively.
I can’t help but snort.
“You shut up, boy.” He releases Pan’s collar long enough to slap the back of his head, making him wince.
I struggle to control my flare of anger, my ring hot against my hand, my power thrumming, waiting for release. “Yes, I can see your exemplary behavior.”
The blacksmith’s nostrils flare. Tony’s used to do that, too, right before he threatened me. I’ve likely pushed my luck as far as I can with this one, but he’s still holding Pan in one hand and the dagger in the other.
Startled sounds pull my attention to where the crowd parts, people jumping out of the way to make room for Jarek as he charges in. The glare he gives Elisaf has me stifling a curse, but the storm brewing in those gray eyes when he peers up at me has me genuinely worried about whether he’ll help.
“Oh, look! There’s another one of my guards. As Lady Diana of Cornwall”—I emphasize for Jarek’s benefit—“I always travel with several.”
Where the blacksmith gave Elisaf a glance, he stalls on Jarek’s stony face, then sizes up the weapons strapped to his hip. Anyone with half a brain would be wary.
“My lady was just questioning this keeper’s claims that the mortal has ingested poison.” Elisaf gestures at Pan.
One … two … three beats pass before Jarek says in a wooden voice, “My lady, is there some way that I can provide you with aid?”
“Maybe?” While Jarek might punish me later for this, he’s sworn to protect me now. “I was just pointing out the obvious—that this keeper is ready to kill a mortal without any proof to back up his claims.”