Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Their duty dictated that they give their life for someone who it would be considered a grave disrespect to look upon too long or approach without permission. The disturbing irony in that sat heavily on my shoulders.
But Hawke was different.
There was no way that he knew it had been me at the Red Pearl. He’d never heard me speak before, and I doubted my jaw and mouth were that recognizable.
The Duchess had said he came from the capital with glowing recommendations and would likely become one of the youngest Royal Guards. If that was what Hawke wanted, stepping up like this would surely help. After all, there was a sudden, unexpected opening in the Royal Guard now.
And wasn’t that a dark assumption to make?
A muscle flexed along his jaw, momentarily fascinating. Then I remembered why I was here, and that was not to ogle Hawke from behind my veil. I shifted my gaze to where Vikter approached the pyre.
Drawing in a shallow breath, I wanted to look away, to close my eyes when he lowered the torch. I didn’t. I watched as the flames licked along the tinder and the sound of crackling wood filled the quiet. My insides twisted as the fire ignited in a rush, spreading over Rylan’s body as Vikter dropped to one knee before the pyre, bowing his head.
“You do him a great honor by being here,” Hawke spoke quietly, but his words startled me. My head swung in his direction. He was staring down at me with eyes so bright, they looked like the gods had polished the amber themselves and placed them there. “You do us all a great honor by being here.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that Rylan and all of them were owed far more than the honor of my presence, but I stopped myself. I couldn’t risk it.
Hawke’s gaze flicked over my lower jaw, lingering on the corner of my mouth, where I knew the skin was inflamed. “You were hurt.” It wasn’t a question but a statement uttered in a hard-as-granite tone. “You can be assured that will never happen again.”
Chapter 9
Sweat dampened my skin as I dipped down and spun, the long, thick braid of hair whipping around me. I kicked out, and my bare foot connected with the side of Vikter’s shin. Caught off guard, he staggered to the side as I shot up beside him. He started to strike back but froze. His gaze dropped to where I held the dagger to his throat.
The corners of his lips turned down.
I smiled. “I win.”
“It’s not about winning, Poppy.”
“It’s not?” I lowered the dagger, stepping back.
“It’s about surviving.”
“Isn’t that winning, though?”
He shot me a sidelong glance as he dragged his arm over his forehead. “I suppose you can look at it that way, but it’s never a game.”
“I know that.” I sheathed the dagger at my thigh. Dressed in a pair of thick leggings and an old tunic of Vikter’s, I walked across the stone floor toward an old, wooden table. I picked up the glass of water and took a long drink. If I could dress like this all day, every day, I’d be a happy girl. “But if it were a game, I still would’ve won.”
“You only got the upper hand twice, Poppy.”
“Yes, but both of those times, I would’ve sliced your neck. You got the upper hand three times, but they would’ve been nothing more than flesh wounds.”
“Flesh wounds?” He barked out a short, rare laugh. “Only you would think disembowelment a paltry flesh wound. You’re such a poor loser.”
“I thought this wasn’t a game?”
He scoffed.
Grinning, I shrugged as I faced him. Dust danced in the sunlight that poured through the open windows. The glass had long since been removed, and the room was either drafty and near frigid in the winter, or unbearably hot in the summer. But no one ever checked for us here, so the extreme temperature variances were more than manageable.
It was the morning after Rylan’s funeral, too early for much of the castle to be moving about. Nearly all the staff and the stronghold’s inhabitants followed the schedule of the Ascended, and the servants, as well as the Duke and Duchess, believed that I was still abed. Only Tawny knew where I was. Rylan hadn’t even known, as Vikter always had morning duties with me.
“How is your head feeling?” he asked.
“Fine.”
He arched a fair brow. “Are you telling the truth?”
A faint, bluish-purple bruise over my temple was all that remained. The skin around my mouth was no longer red. There was a superficial cut along the inside of my cheek that any amount of salt seemed to find its way into, but other than that, I was fine. Not that I would admit it, but Vikter suggesting I take it easy and rest yesterday probably had a lot to do with that.