Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Still, when her eyes land on me, they sparkle with surprise. “Your Highness!” She takes a step forward.
Sofie’s hand locks onto her wrist, keeping her in place.
I gasp at Wendeline’s missing pinky finger.
“You’ve left me with another mess to clean up.” Sofie’s eyes glow as they drift over the corpses. She’s wearing a red satin dress that I remember seeing in the closet here—one of Princess Romeria’s gowns—and her hair is collected in a simple but elegant chignon. She looks every bit the queen and as stylish as that first night I met her, at the charity ball when I was sizing up a set of cuff links and she was sizing up me. The bruising and gash across her cheek from last night are almost healed.
“Tell them to stop guarding the nymphaeum and we won’t have to keep killing them,” Zander answers coolly, his gaze on Wendeline. What is going through his head?
“That is not an option. But luckily, they seem too disorganized to notice guards missing from their posts. Have you found my answer for me?”
“Not yet. It’s only been a day. The scribes are scouring the library in Ulysede. If there’s anything there, we’ll find it.” Though part of me doesn’t want to give Sofie her husband back after all she’s done.
“If you’d like anyone left alive in this city, I suggest they look faster,” she snaps. There’s a different air about her. Where once she oozed confidence and calm, now urgency and impatience lace her tone.
Zander’s body stiffens. “What does that mean?”
She takes a deep breath, as if trying to collect herself. “The mortals have begun abandoning their keepers. Malachi sees that as a sign of rebellion and has made examples of dozens tonight, in the arena.”
“How?” His voice is steely.
“How do you suppose? With his favorite pet.”
My blood turns cold. “There’s a daaknar here?”
“That is right. You fought one bravely and survived. How are those scars?” Sofie studies my shoulder as if she can somehow see the marks through leather and cloth. “I’ve heard they are hideous.”
I ignore her petty taunt. “We’ve swapped one king executing mortals for another. How is this better?”
“Believe me when I tell you, the last king’s hangings were far more humane.” She shifts her focus back to Zander. “Since you asked, the rumor is that your sister escaped Cirilea in a ship.”
Zander pauses a beat. “To Northmost?”
“We do not know, but the ship was mostly empty, and she was held at knifepoint by a male with black hair.”
“She was taken hostage, then. She is likely in Northmost.”
“That is for you to discover, but the information is my gift. I have kept up my end of the bargain.” She gestures to Wendeline. “See? Alive and well enough. Now it is your turn to hold up your end.”
“Let her come with us!” I blurt before I can quell my urgency. “Please.” I know Zander wants her here as a potential ally, but seeing her now … Wendeline isn’t the only one who played a role in everything that’s happened, but she seems to have suffered the most for it.
“I cannot. If the priestess is missing and the king should ask, it will raise alarms. I have enough to cover up with these nightly visits of yours.” She sets her jaw with determination. “Do not return until you have an answer.”
“What if it is not the answer you hope for? What will you do then?” Zander challenges.
Her eyes narrow. “I will protect my Elijah until the right answer arrives, whether that is today, tomorrow, or three centuries from now.”
“At what cost?”
“Any!” she snaps, her composure fraying again, like a worn rope that can no longer bear the tension it holds.
“And will he accept that?” Zander steps forward, testing the boundary of my shield. “When Elijah learns all that you have done in his name, do you think he will fall to your feet in praise or in agony? I know how I would feel if Romeria sat idly by and allowed the murder of innocent people. I could not live in my own skin after that.”
Sofie’s eyes glow brighter, as if she’s about to strike. “Do not be reckless enough to think that if you were to kill Malachi today, that you would be protected from him tomorrow, when he finds the next suitable host waiting within the Nulling. As long as the rift is open and he wishes to walk this plane, you will never be free of him, in one form or another.” Her posture stiffens. She looks ready to pounce. “But if you harm my husband, you will also never be free of me.” Suddenly, her head whips left. “Someone approaches. You must leave now,” she hisses.
“Metal. Soldiers’ footfalls,” Abarrane confirms.
“Lucretia?”
The sylx materializes at my side, her hand on my shoulder.