Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
An answer I was not expecting, especially from the wife of a mortal who boasts about how many children he’s sired. “When did you marry the king?”
“Nearly five years ago. I am his youngest wife, by far. The one before me did not survive her seventh child’s birth, which is why he claimed me. Royal custom decrees that the king of Kier shall have four wives to bless his realm with an abundance of life. Now that I am confirmed barren, I am of little use to him, but to execute me without cause is strictly forbidden.”
“Is that why he sends you to me? To give him cause?” Or was he hoping I would kill her for him?
“His Highness is not a cruel man.”
“Then why does he keep sending you here? Is it to torment me?”
She climbs and stretches out on top of my body, her face hovering inches from mine. “Do I torment you?”
I wait for a real answer to my question. The weight and feel of her pressed against my cock isn’t helping my resolve for celibacy.
“He has heard the many rumors and myths of the great Islorian battle commander, and sees the version of you who believes he is moments from death.” Her fingertips toy with my curls. “Now he wishes to know who you really are, in the quiet, dark hours when no one is watching.”
When the guards are gone and naked mortal flesh—my capture’s valuable property—is presented to me on a platter, for me to use, to abuse, to exact revenge. “And why is that?”
“Because a good leader knows when he is defeated. An even better one knows when to seek aid.”
I frown curiously at her answer. “And so who am I? I assume you will be the one to tell him.”
Pressing her lips against mine, she whispers, “Good night, usurper king. I hope you survive tomorrow.”
She slips away as quickly as she came, leaving me to make sense of her cryptic words.
“You can remove those from our guest.” King Cheral pours tea into two cups on the table in front of him as the guards unfasten the manacles around my wrists and ankles.
Tuella waits in her same corner, watching.
He gestures wordlessly to the seat across from him. Today is a repeat of yesterday. Is it meant to lull my apprehension so I don’t expect the blade until it is through my back?
I make note of the guards’ positions before I cross the room and settle into the chair.
“You seem well today. Stronger.” He peers at me over the rim of his cup.
“I had a pleasant sleep,” I lie. It took forever for me to drift off, my mind toying with Satoria’s words from every angle, trying to make sense of them, to deduce what the king might have planned for me.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He smiles behind a sip, his eyes noting that my tea still sits on the table, untouched.
King Cheral obviously sees value in my life. The question remains, for what? Will his fourth wife continue to visit me each night until she whittles away whatever he searches for? Will he string me along with manacles and bitter tea until I break from the never-ending anticipation of my death?
I decided last night that candor would be my next defense. “I enjoy a good game of cat and mouse, but that is because I’ve always played the cat. I do not make a good mouse, so how about you tell me what exactly it is you hope to achieve here?”
King Cheral takes his time, adding a teaspoon of cane sugar to his tea, then another, his spoon clanking the sides of the porcelain. “Kier is a vast realm of fierce fighters and rich lands.”
“Yes, I am well aware. Kettling has benefited from trade with you for many years that my father foolishly allowed. And I personally have stuck my blade through your raiders when they pillage, so I know they are not so easy to kill. As far as mortals go, anyway. Though, they do claim you a stingy king and their people starving.”
“Yes, the less flattering rumors have reached my ears. I can see why they would believe that, even if it is not the case. Not truly, anyway. We ration our realm’s harvest, but it is not without cause.” His lips purse as if he is weighing his next words.
“Someone has invited the shadow to seep into this realm.” Tuella steps forward. “Each season, its hold grows stronger.”
“Again with this shadow and light. You will have to be more specific if you wish for me to follow.”
“Our best soil sits at the base of the range north of here, where the streams run down to feed the land,” King Cheral explains. “The farms there have provided for most of Kier for thousands of years. But our fortunes have changed. Blights ravished crops of tomatoes, grains refused to sprout. Year after year, the poor harvest returned, each time a larger swath of land affected. We could not make sense of it. Not until Tuella arrived from Udrel. She could sense the shadow that had infected the mountain’s water.”