Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
I snort in disgust. "Frogshit."
Maeve grips my hand. "Of course they're saying that. It's not as if he's going to confess that he ousted you."
I nod, clutching at her hand. I knew this, and yet hearing it aloud is still...unpleasant. Where is my list of glorious accomplishments and accolades? Why are they not lauded? What about all the work I put in? I try to think of important trade deals I brokered, laws that I passed, and nothing comes to mind. All I can think of is the day-to-day politics and squabbling amongst families of power and of the politicians, and how tired I was of all of it.
The image of me thankfully fades and cuts to Remrrrtel, striding forward in his military gear. His gray, striped fur is impeccably groomed, short and severe unlike my once long silky mane, and he wears nothing but black. Black cloak, black uniform, black boots. Gold chains of rank adorn his sleeves, but even they manage to look somehow severe and unyielding.
"Yikes," Maeve says at the sight of him. "His eyes are terrifying."
My gaze locks on my brother's face. I haven't seen him in at least a decade, and then only briefly at my own ascension to Heir. I was closer to Wesskth, though not by much. The angry, bitter stare on Rem's face is familiar, though. For as long as I've known him, my brother has always looked sober and unsmiling. His eyes are cold even as he sweeps forward onto the dais and holds a hand out.
A human woman steps forward and moves to my brother's side, placing her smaller hand in his. She's maybe a few years younger than Maeve, her coloring slightly more vibrant, her hair a bright sunny yellow. She wears a long, sweeping dress of pinks and golds and blinks rapidly as she puts on a smile and turns to my brother.
"I am full of honor," she says in halting, imprecise praxiian common tongue. She blinks again and again, a huge smile on her face, and then switches to her human tongue. "Remrrrtel honors me with our union and I look forward to being his companion and bearing many cubs for him. We hope this is a step forward in relations between both of our peoples."
She continues to speak, her lips moving and her eyes blinking rapidly, but the vid cuts away. There is no honor reel of accomplishments of the human's background. Instead, the viewer is treated to a series of clips of my brother and his human bride, clearly staged to show the happy couple together. Rem and his bride at a party, with her seated close at his side. Rem and his bride walking through a garden. Rem and his bride sitting for a portrait, their hands tightly clasped.
"They didn't even tell us her name," Maeve protests as the vid feed fades away, leaving only a date. "What the fuck was that?"
"She is not important," I muse thoughtfully. "At least not to whoever created this vid. It was meant to highlight my brother and his lineage and downplay hers." I stroke my chin, thinking. There were no crowd shots, none of the couple greeting the commoners or having any parades in their honor, which are also customary for important weddings. Granted, it could be that my brother is being cautious due to the fact that he's a dictator, but it makes me wonder.
"Well, I want to know her name," Maeve says again, troubled. "Got any more puff pieces we can watch?"
I find another and let it play. It's much of the same as the last one, though this one mentions the female's name—Leah—and shows a close-up of her happy face as they made their official announcement. She smiles as she speaks in praxiian, blinking and blinking as if she has something in her eyes.
Strange creature. I don't know what my brother sees in her. Maeve is soft and beautiful in her human way, but it is her stubborn and cheerfully determined personality that I enjoy the most. That, and the soft curve of her shoulder. This creature my brother is wedding, though? She looks breakable and fragile, and she has some sort of ocular tic that makes her blink all the time.
Maeve clutches at my arm. "Oh god."
"What?"
"Play that again?" She taps my hand frantically, her gaze locked on the now-ended vid display. "Same vid, play it again. I have to make sure I'm not crazy."
Frowning, I loop it and play it again and Maeve watches, her fingers pressed to her lips. When the female blinks, I swear Maeve blinks along with her.
I say nothing until it is done, watching my mate.
She turns to me, her expression stark. "I was right. Short short short, long long long, then short short short again."
Shaking my head, I give her a puzzled look. "What are you talking about?"