Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Quacked up?”
Oh, God! I was responsible for all those store names. I should have known I wasn’t above a bad pun opportunity.
Nylian was not amused.
I cleared my throat and tried again. “You would have strangled me. Would you have roasted me and had me for dinner if Jasper turned me into a duck?”
Nylian’s voice dipped low and turned deliciously dark. “I would have devoured you.”
It felt as if he had already tossed me onto the fire. Heat suffused every inch of my body, and my mouth turned bone-dry. Some tiny voice in the back of my mind whimpered, Yes, please! Not that I was entirely sure what it was begging for.
Nylian took a step closer to me, and my brain snapped out of its fog. I placed my hands on his stiff shoulders and pushed him until he dropped into the only chair in my room.
“Thank you for saving Adeline. I know you’re not her biggest fan, but I appreciate your efforts,” I stated. “After talking to Jasper for a bit, it sounds like they’ve had a tough go of things. She’s been caring for her younger brother as best she can after orcs killed their parents. And it hasn’t been easy for her to get jobs when she has a little brother tagging along behind her.”
The elf huffed and looked away from me, but I could see a touch of color rising in the tips of his pointed ears. I had the most insane desire to run my finger along the edge of one of those ears to feel that it was real. However, I couldn’t imagine that elves were big fans of weirdos touching their ears, so I kept my hands to myself. Maybe if we got to be good friends, or if I helped him catch the person who plotted the death of Orian, he’d let me touch his ears.
“Whatever. She saved us. I was only evening the score,” Nylian muttered.
Except she was being paid for that service, so there was no score to settle. But he didn’t seem to be in the mood to tolerate any teasing from me.
“Besides,” he snapped, his head whipping around so he could once again pin me with his angry gaze. “You had me worried the entire day. What happened with the governor? I’m assuming you convinced him you’re the prince, since you’re out walking free.”
“Actually, no.” I took two steps to the table where I’d stashed my new lotions and soaps, but had to return to Nylian’s side to push him down into the chair.
“What do you mean, no? What happened? If he knows you’re not really Victor, how are you still walking free?”
“Sit. Relax. I’ll tell you.”
He flopped onto the cushioned chair with a mutinous glare, as if he thought scowling would hurry my story along. I snatched up the bottle with the lotion and took the stopper off. Holding it out toward him, I waved it in the air. “Do you like this scent?”
“It’s nice. Now talk.”
I put some in my palm and returned the stopper to the jar. At his side, I picked up one of his hands and rubbed the lotion into his skin, paying attention to the various acupressure points while working slowly up each individual finger. It had been prickling in the back of my mind since I’d met with Governor Brimsey that Nylian was a prince. He’d been born to a pampered life of the finest things, people waiting on him.
But in the past several days, even weeks, he’d been on his own. No one to see to his needs. No one to take care of him. And with each passing day, more and more weight was piling onto his shoulders. He was growing prickly and short-tempered.
Would it be so hard for me to pamper him for five minutes?
That was when I thought of my favorite salon. Their prices for haircuts were ridiculous, especially for a guy, and my cut was stupidly simple. I didn’t go there all the time. Only as a treat after I finished a book. And my favorite part was the shampoo. They took the clients to a separate, darkened room where soothing music played. A warm, scented towel was placed over my eyes; my hair was washed; my scalp, neck, and temples were massaged. They even massaged my hands before returning me to my stylist’s chair. It was an incredibly relaxing experience that helped to shed weeks of tension in a matter of minutes.
Nylian fought it for five seconds. Then his shoulders lowered, and his perfectly straight spine curled as he sunk into the chair.
“Governor Brimsey admitted that my performance was rather good, but I fucked up when I thanked a servant. I don’t even remember doing it,” I admitted. Nylian opened his mouth to ask more questions, but he shut his mouth again with a warning look from me. “That weasel we cornered in the alley—Barnaby—was Victor’s personal servant for years. He recognized I wasn’t the prince in an instant and ran off to whisper in the governor’s ear. That’s why he invited me to breakfast.”