Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Such emotions make humans ugly, I know. I try to banish them, but it’s difficult. Firo is a faery. He has powers that I do not, allure that I cannot match. I don’t want him to be Luthian’s pupil. I want to hold that position—and my Guardian’s attention—alone.
“I thought faeries could heal themselves,” I say with a sniff, covering my eyes with my forearm and lying back.
“We can. Luthian has forbidden it.” Maddeningly, Firo seems unafflicted by the sickness of envy; his voice is cheerful and friendly.
I do not wish to be friends. “Why?”
“He says I won’t learn obedience without consequence. That I should be more accepting of pain. Like you.”
I push myself up. “Why are you speaking about me outside of my presence? I won’t be the subject of gossip.”
“You were the subject of praise, gentle lady.” He smiles, and it is charming. Infuriatingly charming.
I sit up fully and arrange the skirts of my poofy white linen day dress around myself modestly. It’s ridiculous, I know, considering what I’ve done to him and what he’s seen me do with Luthian.
I chide myself for resorting to such posturing when it matters so little.
“You don’t like me,” Firo says, still smiling.
“I have no opinion of you. You’re simply a student of Luthian’s, as I am.” I brush a small beetle from my sleeve.
“A student. Nothing more,” Firo says pointedly. “There is nothing to fear from my presence.”
My jaw drops. “You’ve mistaken my intent here.”
“I beg ever so many pardons. I assumed you carried some romantic feeling for our teacher, and therefore disliked me out of a lover’s jealousy.” He fixes me with a teasing stare, challenging me to deny it.
And I can deny it because he’s wrong. “If I perceive you as a threat, it is only because my purpose here is so great. I stand to lose much if I’m not successful.”
“Do you believe I’m here out of curiosity, then? Nothing to gain from my presence?” he asks mildly.
“Your reason for being here is none of my concern.” And yet, I’m curious. Greatly so. I do so desperately want to know what kind of deal Firo has made with Luthian, and if it has anything in common with mine. Instead, I ask him, “Why this ridiculous palanquin? Why not simply fly?”
“Because my wings are also healing,” he says, spreading his hands. “And Luthian has told me that I lack in style. I thought he would approve of my choice of transport.”
I can’t help the smile that touches the corners of my mouth. “Style does seem to be a primary concern.”
“I’m learning. Where I’m from, there isn’t much use for it. Impractical, you see.”
“And where are you from?” I ask.
“The Court of Time and Destiny.” He holds up one hand and points to a signet I don’t recognize. “I’m to be an ambassador to the Court of Pleasure and Torment.”
“Ah. You need to learn the customs and ways.” I nod in understanding. “I confess, I’m not familiar with the faery courts. Only the Court of Seasons, and the one we’re training for.”
“And why are you training for it?” he asks.
My tongue pauses at the roof of my mouth. I would have revealed the entire plan, anyway, but I recognize how very careful I must be in speaking to a future ambassador to the court. “My mother was a faery.”
“Was?” he interjects with a frown.
Faeries, I know, often forget that immortality and invulnerability aren’t interchangeable. While the ravages of time never touch them—thanks in part to the magic of the very court from whence Firo hails—they can still die. Yet, free from the curse of age, the possibility of their own mortality slips their minds.
“She was poisoned. By Cadwyn Thrace.” I don’t realize that I hoped for a flicker of recognition at the name until none comes. “He’s a faery. He doesn’t live at a court, but perhaps—”
Firo shakes his head. “I’m terribly sorry for your mother’s death, but that name means nothing. Still, tell me why tragedy has brought you here.”
“Luthian is my faery guardian. He granted the wish that resulted in my birth.” That’s safe enough to tell, I think.
“So, you’re here out of obligation?” Firo is incredulous.
How much more can I reveal? “In a sense. I’m human but raised by faeries. I have no living family, having sprouted from a wish. I have none of the magical ability that made my mother an asset to the Court of Seasons, and no prospects among humans. But at the Court of Pleasure and Torment, I’ll have value. I’ll be desired and, hopefully, I’ll earn a place there.”
This answer seems to satisfy Firo. “Oh, they’ll desire you. You were magnificent yesterday.”
My face flushes hot and I look away. “I’m sorry. For the things I did to you. I know you didn’t want them.”