The Beginning of Everything Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #1)

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
<<<<76869495969798106116>138
Advertisement


But he did not let me go.

He bent again to me, pressed his lips hard to mine, then straightened away, only then to release me (which I did not like).

He took my hand (which I did like).

And then he walked us toward the bathing room.

We strolled past his leather shirt on the floor and it was on the tip of my tongue to suggest he don it before walking me all the way down his very long hall to my rooms at the other end.

I did not do that.

This was his home.

His palace.

And it was now my home.

My palace.

And he should be just as he wanted to be in his home.

As he was showing me it was all right just to be…me.

“Where is Piccola?” he asked after we entered the hall.

“Tril has her. I’m going to teach her to sleep on the pillow beside mine at night.”

“My Silence, as you’ll be sleeping on the pillow beside mine, I think we should have a discussion about this, no?”

I’d be sleeping on the pillow beside his.

This gave me another tingle.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” I mumbled.

He chuckled and said, “I’m very glad you like her.”

I looked up at him as we strolled, hand in hand. “I love her.”

He smiled warmly down at me and gave my hand a squeeze.

“Though I don’t like her in a cage,” I shared.

“She is very clever, like her mama. She will learn soon to stay close to you.”

At that, timidly, I gave his hand a squeeze.

I didn’t need to be timid.

He again gave me another warm smile.

We made the door to my rooms, but before I could reach to the handle, he drew me into his arms.

“Now we bid goodnight,” he declared.

I tried not to pout.

I must have failed for he roared with laughter again.

I grinned up at him as he did.

When he sobered, he tipped his chin down to me.

“Tomorrow will be a busy day, but I will not miss dinner with you again,” he promised.

“I’m glad,” I told him.

“And we will have our time after dinner.”

I pressed my lips together as that gave me a shiver.

I released them to say, “I look forward to that.”

His fingers slid along my hairline as he said gently, “And the next night, we’ll be wed.”

“I look forward to that too,” I whispered.

He gave me another smile, this one soft and sweet, before he bent again and touched his lips to mine.

“Until the morrow, my Silence,” he murmured against them.

“Until then, my king.”

I received yet another smile, this one from his eyes, before he straightened and jerked his bearded chin to my door.

I opened it and rushed inside, beginning to shut it behind me with but a small grin up at my king (who was gazing indulgently down at me) as I closed him away from me.

Tril immediately came out of her room once the latch clicked.

“Was that the king I heard?” she asked.

“Yes,” I answered dreamily.

She studied my face.

Then she decreed, “He kissed you.”

“Yes,” I repeated, even more dreamily.

I had a mind to skip and twirl to the bed.

Instead I floated there, turned to it, and plopped backward on it.

I felt it depress and then I saw Tril’s face above mine.

She was frowning at my nostril. “Does that gold hurt?”

I looked into her eyes.

“No. It feels like heaven.”

Her gaze came to mine.

And it was then, my Tril smiled at me.

27

The Cards

Princess Elena

Guest Suite, Second Floor, East Corridor, Catrame Palace, Fire City

FIRENZE

When the sun was a sliver on the horizon, just touching the sky with the new day, I left my rooms.

I did this after donning my purple body stocking with the thin straps and high cuts at the hips over which I added my lavender tunic with the coral trim that had some gilding at the V-neck and around the hem.

This I tied with my gold belt.

I also took up my rug and cards.

I walked on bare feet through the palace into the still-dark but ever-lightening gardens on a course to the spot on the east side that I’d spied the day before.

I stopped in the small clearing that had the fountain affixed to the garden wall that was a cascade of staggered, carved, rusted stone bowls fed one after the other from the head of a snake at the top.

The snake’s mouth was open, fangs bared, water flowing through and down into the bowls, to finally plunge into a small pool on the ground.

I set my cards aside, flipped out the rug and sat cross-legged on it, facing the fountain.

I was not surprised, even with the peaceful falling of the water, when I could not clear my mind in order to find some contentment.

I was tense, not sleeping well, and my head was a jumble of thoughts and worries.

Mother had rested the morning before, rather than joining the others at the diplomatic table.



<<<<76869495969798106116>138

Advertisement