Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“Well, hand it over,” Madrina barked. “Matron Flavia is doing you a real service. A name will help us get you home sooner than not.”
“Felicity.” She swallowed as she said it. She had gone by her middle name, Kerrigan, since her father had unceremoniously dumped her on the door of the House of Dragons and given up her right to the royal House of Cruse. She’d gained it all back herself, but using that name still felt wrong.
“Aye, what is your house name?” Madrina asked.
“Cruse,” she offered slowly. Which was true, but not the truth at all.
It didn’t matter that she was Felicity Kerrigan Argon, First of the House of Cruse, a Society council member. All of that had been left behind in Alandria. They could send out as many runners as they wanted, but they wouldn’t find her home.
Not that she planned to stay. After a meal, she hoped she would be prepared to strike out on her own.
“I don’t know that house name,” Flavia acknowledged uncertainly.
“Well, Felicity,” Madrina said, “let’s get you into a bath. We’ll find your people. No one with that pink of skin or red of hair has nowhere to belong.”
Kerrigan looked down at her pale, freckled skin. Pink? She’d never thought her skin was pink unless she stayed out in the sun too long. Such a strange comment and a strange people.
Still, Kerrigan had no other option. She was hungry and filthy. Fordham was nowhere to be found. And she was … weak. She was weak from everything that had happened. She could plan better once she had some food.
Flavia waved her off, already turning back to Felix about some other matter. Kerrigan followed Madrina into a room filled with a large, heated tub. A girl at least a few years younger than Kerrigan came in to scrub her back and help with her hair, which was good since her red curls had never been tamable alone.
“Here you go,” Thalassia said, holding out a brown tunic. “It’s the best we got. If Matron Flavia wants you in something nicer, she’ll have to provide it.”
“Where did my clothes go?” She’d had fighting leathers on under her robes. They were high quality, and she wanted to keep them.
But Thalassia shook her head. “Nothing good happens to a woman walking around in men’s garb.”
Kerrigan eyed her disbelievingly. She couldn’t wear pants here? That was … interesting. Most women back home wore dresses, but no one looked down on her for wearing her leathers.
She still didn’t have the energy to argue. After food, she would figure it out. She let Thalassia help her into the dress, which she clipped up at both shoulders and draped across her figure flatteringly.
“There. Now, you look almost like a lady,” she said with a grin.
“Uh, thank you.”
The dress would have to do even if it was far, far from the fashion she’d left behind.
When she returned to the tavern room, it had filled up with local patrons who eyed her appreciatively as she found Madrina again at the bar. The woman immediately shoved stew and bread toward her.
“Eat up.”
Kerrigan ate like she was starved, like she hadn’t had a meal in weeks rather than in a half-day. Already, she felt her energy returning, and she began to plan. First, she needed to find her leathers and change out of this dress. Apparently, her hair and skin were a problem here. She could figure out what to do about that. But first, she needed to leave this place behind. She appreciated their help, but she didn’t trust anyone. Not after what had happened with Bastian’s betrayal.
Her mission was to find her mother. She’d have to add a step to find Fordham again as well. None of which she could do in this tavern.
As she formulated her plan, she finished the last dregs of her soup and pushed it away.
Thalassia gestured toward the stairs. “This way. We have a room set up for you.”
“Perfect. Thank you,” she said, coming to her feet uneasily.
That was strange. The food should have made her feel better.
Thalassia gripped her under the arm and directed her upstairs to the empty bedroom. Her mind was frantic as her feet began to give way and she toppled forward into the bed.
“No,” Kerrigan moaned softly.
“Sorry,” the girl whispered. “It’s not personal.”
Her plan. Sneak out of the room, recover her clothing, Fordham, her mother. Her brain went fuzzy at the edges. She’d been taken in. She knew not to trust anyone, and yet she’d trusted them anyway. As she had been planning to double-cross their perceived hospitality, they’d already been working to take her in.
She fought hard to stay awake, but whatever they’d done to her was too strong. Her eyes closed, and sleep beckoned.
Voices came back to her, but they felt incomprehensible through the thick syrup of her mind.