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)
“We will be there, fates forbidding any setbacks,” I confirm.
“Okay, then.” Hazel eyes meet mine, and a wave of nostalgia washes over me, for the many years passed and battles planned as my brother and I faced each other across a table. “Tell me what we need to win this war.”
I fall into step next to Romeria as we escort their party through the camp, back to where the dragons wait. Zander is deep in conversation with King Cheral about the troubles Kier has faced. “Did you have a chance to speak to Gracen yet?”
“Her Highness has more important matters than relaying messages to your lovers for you,” Jarek snaps.
“You know, in another life, I would have drawn my sword right here, right now,” I warn, letting a sharp edge glisten in my voice.
He flashes his teeth. “And you would have suffered greatly for it.”
“Care to test that theory?”
“No.” Romeria shakes her head at her right-hand shadow. “Give us a minute? Please?”
With a stiff posture, Jarek’s pace slows, falling behind several steps. Still close enough to cut me down should the legionary feel the urge.
“He is rather protective of you,” I note.
“He’s doing his job.”
That’s more than duty that drives him, I would guess, but I’m not about to say that out loud.
“As for Gracen, I haven’t had the chance yet. With the news of Annika and everything … I will let her know, though.”
“When you’re next in …”
Romeria cuts a look but doesn’t respond. She still refuses to tell me where they are, but if I had to guess, I would suspect in that golden city of hers, beyond reach from everyone.
“I appreciate it.” I smile. “How is that little imp Mika doing?”
She smirks. “Still an imp.”
“And the others? The baby?” I can picture walking in on Gracen feeding the child in my bed the morning I left. What I would give to return to that day again and make different choices. But, had I stayed, we would not have King Cheral as an ally, and I would more than likely be dead. Maybe I am following the path my fate has laid out. Regardless, it’s becoming clearer to me that the mortal baker and the usurper king’s time together was meant to be fleeting.
“Suri? She is growing.”
“Suri, yes,” I echo, imagining her tiny fingers and the way she kicked and wailed that night the servants’ quarters were searched for the poison.
Romeria hesitates. “You know, her actual name is not Suri.”
I falter. “No, I did not. What is it?”
“Romeria.” Her smile is smug.
“In honor of the queen who saved her.” Gracen never revealed this secret, which means she never fully trusted me. I guess I can’t blame her, given all that I did during my time as king.
“She hid the truth because she was afraid of being punished for her loyalties.”
“That is … reasonable.” I push aside the hurt stirred by this information and drawl, “How was your ego after learning that?”
“It’s very healthy.” Romeria’s beautiful blue eyes shimmer with her grin, but her amusement quickly falls off, as if she remembers who she’s with.
We both must be thinking the same thing. “The escort south from the rift to Cirilea, that truly was not you?” I ask gently.
“You mean, the nights you played draughts with the princess?” Her eyebrow arches in meaning. “No. I mean, it was this body.” She gestures at herself, drawing my attention downward over her curves, adorned with finery fit for a queen. I remember what it felt like beneath me. “But it wasn’t me. I’m not from around here. Maybe I’ll explain it to you one day.”
“I look forward to the enlightening tale.”
“Who says you deserve it? And for the record, you’re an asshole for what you did to your brother.”
“I do not disagree.” My gaze drifts to Zander’s back. “On many fronts.”
She follows my focus. “You’ve seen what’s coming. Do you think we stand a chance?”
“With all of Mordain and these dragons and a key caster behind us?” My chest tightens. “I do not know.”
She bites her lip, as if holding back her next words while she decides whether to say them. With a flittering search around us to see who is close, she admits, “We’re thinking of summoning the fates for help.”
My eyebrows pop. “Who is?”
“Zander and I.” Fear shines in her eyes. “We need to close the Nulling and we’re out of options.”
My attention falls to my brother again, strolling through the camp like the leader he naturally is. Zander despises the fates. He would likely be happy to follow the way of Udrel instead. So if he is considering this … it means he does not think we have any hope of winning otherwise, which is a scary reality. No wonder he’s been so quick to welcome me back, though with tepid arms. He’s desperate.