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)
Ledric was waiting alongside this supply wagon and its drivers—his brother and niece, Destry explained. His meaty fist sat open for his payment, which I gave him after Destry translated a clear threat about what would happen should he utter a word to anyone. It was all for show—I’m not that concerned. If he had intentions of betraying me, he wouldn’t send his family with us, and deducing that brought me comfort.
“Why don’t you try to get some rest.” I shutter my own eyes.
“Sitting up on a wooden box? That is impossible.”
It’s not unless you are a spoiled princess who travels with servants by golden carriage. But I don’t say that because we’re semi-civilized with each other for once, and it’s a nice change. “You can rest your head here.” I pat my thigh.
If her eyes could shoot actual daggers, my groin would be eviscerated. “As if I would fall for that.”
“My intentions are pure.” Though, now that she puts that thought in my head, my eyes drift to her full lips and a mental image stirs my blood. “I’m serious. I will stay awake.”
“No, thank you. As if I could sleep. Every time I wake up lately, I feel as though I’ve landed in Azo’dem.” She tugs her cloak closer to her body. Peeking out from beneath it is that silken white nightgown that had me gaping like one of her fawning suitors earlier.
“We will stop to find you more suitable clothes as soon as it’s safe.”
“Will anywhere be safe? Any one of these people would be willing to hand me to the king if they knew what I was, and I wouldn’t blame them.”
“They would have to get through me first.”
She has no answer to that, regarding me shrewdly before her attention flitters away. “Do you think they’ve discovered us gone yet?”
“Yes. I didn’t hide the dead guards well, and they would find them gone at shift change.”
She rests her head against a crate. “What do you think King Hadkiel will do?”
“Send his guard out to comb through the city, looking for clues about which way we went. It won’t be long before they figure out that we headed for the port. They’ll send messages ahead to the various lords and ladies, demanding they scour every corner with orders to kill me and detain you.” That’s what I would do, anyway.
“How many days is it to this port?”
“Seven.”
She worries her lips, and I know what she’s thinking because I’m dwelling on it too—seven days is a long time. Much can go wrong. “And then we get on a ship, only for the sirens to bring us right back.”
“Fleeing to Espador is our best option for now.”
“And what do you know of it?”
“Nothing,” I admit. “But it can’t be worse than what will happen to you if we stay here. We have no choice. We have to leave Udrel. If we can escape without notice.” Annika may as well have rays of sun shining down upon her, so easy she’ll be to pick out of a crowd. “Come, sit on this.” I tap my foot against a short crate between my legs.
She glares. “I told you that is not happening.”
I groan, my frustration surging. “Would you trust me, please? I think I’ve earned an ounce of that, have I not?”
Her lips purse.
“Come take a seat, with your back to me.”
With slow reluctance, she moves and settles in between my parted thighs, her posture stiff. “Why am I doing this?”
I smooth her cloak’s hood out of the way. “Because we can’t be seen in public with the way you look.”
“And how exactly do I look?” She attempts haughtiness, but I catch a hint of curiosity.
I smile. “Fishing for compliments today?”
“Would it pain you so much?”
At one time, yes, very much. Now? I don’t know how to describe my feelings for this Islorian, but it is certainly not the disdain I used to carry.
She peers up at me, her blue-purple eyes shining as she waits for my response.
“You look like someone begged the fates for the most beautiful creature ever born, and they granted that request.” I don’t intend for my answer to sound so somber.
That gaze flitters over my face, stalling on my mouth for the briefest second before she turns around with a shaky sigh.
I gather her long locks in my fingers, reveling in their silky texture. “You cannot walk around with this hair. You will be easily identified.”
Her head whips around, panic filling her expression. “If you think you are cutting a single strand—”
“Relax. I am not.” I smile. “But we must tame it. I will plait it for you.”
Her eyebrow arches. “You know how to braid hair?”
“It’s not that difficult.”
“I know.” She hesitates. “Though I have no idea how.” Presenting her back to me again, she asks, “But how did you learn this?”