Total pages in book: 295
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 282090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1410(@200wpm)___ 1128(@250wpm)___ 940(@300wpm)
“You should see the butterfly garden,” Xaden says, nodding to the guard on the right as we pass through the open doorway.
Wait. Why aren’t we being escorted by fliers? And how the hell does Xaden know this place has a butterfly garden?
“How long have you been here?” I ask, entering the palace.
And holy shit, what a palace.
Every surface seems to shimmer, the white marble interior reflecting not only natural light but a soft glow of white mage lights far overhead and deep into the structure, where I can make out several seating groups of low-backed furniture. The ceilings are the height of Sgaeyl, the space divided by not only columns thick as Tairn’s legs, with murals intricately carved into each circular block, but a wide staircase that must lead to the next story.
Pretty sure if I were to call out my name loudly enough, it would echo back in here, if not for the crowd of people in many different forms of attire milling about near a set of graduated pillars in various shades of black. Brown is definitely the dominant clothing color, and we are definitely the topic of conversation as we pass by.
“We landed a few hours ago,” Xaden answers. “We changed direction as soon as Sgaeyl felt Tairn on the move.”
You will not be happy with the welcome we’re about to receive. That’s what Tairn said when we landed.
“You and I are going to have a discussion,” I send his direction. “You promised.”
“I promised not to tell, not that she couldn’t sense me.”
Fucking dragon semantics.
“Is that…a pool?” Mira stares at the winding turquoise path that curves around the staircase and disappears out onto the terrace.
“You get used to them,” Xaden remarks, leading us over a flat, marble bridge wide enough for two people. “Just be careful if you’ve been drinking. No railings.”
“We won’t be here long enough to drink.” Brennan’s words slow with our steps as a group of a dozen people descends the staircase in front of us.
But Xaden’s been here often enough to drink? To have fallen into this pool?
“Here we go.” Xaden’s voice lowers. “Try not to set the place on fire.”
Two crimson-uniformed guards station themselves at opposite ends of the curling bannister, and a tall, dark-haired man in a deep blue tunic with gold brocade walks forward, looking over us with rapt fascination. His uniform is tight about the waist, his flushed cheeks soft and round.
“Viscount,” Xaden addresses him. “This is Cadet Violet Sorrengail and her sister, Lieutenant Mira Sorrengail. I believe you and Lieutenant Colonel Aisereigh are already acquainted.”
“We are.” He flashes impossibly white teeth as he smiles at me, etching deep lines into his forehead and at the edges of his eyes. “But it’s you I am most curious about, Violet.” The unnerving amount of glee in his gaze makes it nearly impossible to stand still as he studies me, drawing out his words until he finishes his perusal. “Is it true that you call lightning from the sky?”
“I do.” I keep my focus on the viscount, but I feel the weight of his entourage staring behind him.
“How wonderful!” He clasps his hands in front of his chest, his rings twinkling with heavy gemstones.
“Shall we—” Brennan starts.
“It’s poor etiquette to discuss business until dinner. You know the rules, Riorson,” Tecarus says, glancing Xaden’s way. “They certainly can’t attend as they are. They’ll need to be dressed suitably, as will you.”
Xaden nods once.
“You know the rules?” I ask Xaden. “Exactly how many times have you been here?” And what part of our uniforms isn’t suitable for dinner?
“I don’t exactly keep count.”
“Don’t worry if you haven’t brought anything fit for the occasion,” Tecarus says to me. “I took the liberty of having a selection of clothing pulled from my best collection once Riorson told me you were inbound. My niece will see you properly attired, won’t you, Cat?” he calls back over his shoulder.
My stomach hits the sparkly marble floor.
You have to be fucking kidding me.
“Of course, Uncle.” Catriona steps down from the front row of the entourage, dressed in a purple, long-sleeved gown that shows her elegant figure to its best advantage. I’d thought she was beautiful from a distance, but up close, her features are truly so flawless that she’s completely, utterly…devastating.
Suddenly, I understand exactly why Xaden’s been here too many times to keep count.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,” Xaden says to Cat in that clipped, cold tone he uses when annoyed as they lead us down another hallway two stories above where we entered.
“Where did you think I’d be after dark wielders destroyed Zolya and took up residence at Cliffsbane?” Cat questions, pausing in front of one of the dozen doors in this wing.
Mira shoots me a look, lifting her eyebrows as we stop in the middle of the hallway, Brennan only a few feet behind.