Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I shook my head, watching his face fill with joy and pain.
“He said, ‘Gale, I am always having fun when we are all together. That’s why I told mother and father so we could play longer and not get in trouble.’” Gale stopped and looked down, clenching his jaw.
I squeezed his hand tighter, coming closer to him. “I can see your brother was amazing. He made everyone happy—you and your sister, as well as your parents and himself.”
“Exactly.” He shifted his eyes to me. “Arty was not only good at solving problems, but he could read people. Which is probably how he knew you would be perfect for me. He was the one who chose you for me. That sounds a bit wrong to say.”
“No, I get it.” I laughed. “I wish I could thank him. I wish I knew him. The man changed my life for the better.”
“I will take you to see his grave one day soon,” he whispered, leading us left and then another left before we entered the hall that had one doorman standing outside. Upon seeing us, he opened the doors, bowing his head.
I stepped into a small room—well, smaller in comparison to the rooms I had seen in the palace already. It was still relatively large, much bigger than any ordinary dining room. The walls were wallpapered in red, and several portraits of royals hung from them. But not just any royals, these family pictures were hand-painted into larger-than-life portraits.
“Odette,” Eliza called out, rising from her chair and coming around the table.
I noticed she wore dark-gray trousers and a matching blouse, and her red hair was pulled into a side braid. On it, she wore a beaded headband with floral-leaf accessories. “I have not seen you since this morning. I looked for you in the afternoon, but you were not with Mr. Ambrose. Was everything all right?”
“Hello, Eliza.” Gale waved his hand in her face. “You have not seen me since this morning, either. Are you not going to ask if I am all right?”
Eliza rolled her eyes and smacked his hand out of the way before pushing between us, linking arms with me. “I will show you to your seat.”
“Thank you, but are you showing me because you want to or because you want me to sing for you?” I asked as we walked the five feet or so to the wooden dining table set for six—two chairs on each side and one at each end.
“Let us not call it singing for me, let us call it singing for each other, as a family.” She offered me a smile, placing me at one seat down on the left.
“Oh, please God, do not sing, Eliza. You have many talents, but singing is not one, and the last thing Odette or I would like is you making us all deaf with your screeching.”
“Gale!” I gasped.
“What?” He snickered, staring back at me. He sat on the right, in the chair next to the head of the table by the door.
“That is mean.”
“It is true,” he said back.
“I’m already used to it, Odette. Do not let him fool you. He’s actually a judgmental jerk.” Eliza made a face at her brother.
He shrugged. “No one ever tells me my judgment is wrong, though.”
“Really?” Eliza walked around the table, sitting across from me and next to him. “Do you want me to tell her what you called her music?”
“I already told her, and she still likes me anyway,” he replied smugly.
Eliza’s head whipped back to me. “He really told you?”
“Depressed siren music?” I frowned and shot him a glare. “Yes, he told me, and I still want to smack him for it. It was almost as bad as when he said I was bossy, temperamental, and prone to outburst.”
“Gale!” It was her turn to gasp now.
He sighed deeply and dramatically, giving me a look. However, amusement was still on his face. “It has been months. Will you never let it go?”
I shook my head. “When I am old and gray, and on my death bed surrounded by all my great-grandchildren, I’m going to use the last of my breath to tell them all the names you have called me.”
He snickered. “It might take you a while, my love, my dear, my sweet, my sugarplum, my Wyntorbird—”
“Please stop,” I begged, trying not to laugh.
“What? Why? I am making sure our great-grandchildren hear a very romantic list.” He winked at me. “How many of those will there be again?”
I shook my head. “I created this trap for myself.”
“Oh yes, and I plan on using it against you until we are old and gray—”
“Wow,” Eliza cut in, looking between us, “you both have completely forgotten I am in the room.”
I did for a second but shook my head. “No. Not completely.”
“Yes, just a bit,” Gale added.