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)
Romeria waits quietly, and I get the distinct feeling she’s looking for my opinion. “In war, I would use every weapon at my disposal. The fates are weapons.”
“But what about the consequences?”
“There are consequences to every choice. The blood curse was a consequence of a selfish request, and yet we have survived for two thousand years with it. We can live with consequences. Can we live with the alternative?”
“The alternative is death,” she says with grim certainty.
“Exactly.”
She nods, seemingly digesting my words.
We’ve reached the outskirts of the camp when shouts of alarm rise at the north end, the word “Grif!” escaping a moment before a stream of fire erupts. A two-headed creature appears in the glow of burning grass and trees.
It was only a matter of time before the beasts found us, but I suppose Romeria’s caster abilities could have drawn it in.
With a screech, the dragons launch into the air, reaching it in seconds.
A devastating stream of fire sails from Caindra’s maw, before the orange dragon swoops in to snatch the grif from the ground. Its body dangles from his mouth for a few seconds before he bites down, severing its two heads from its body. The pieces fall and scatter.
All is quiet again.
“You said that was Bexley’s mate, right?”
“Yes, which means you slept with his wife,” Romeria teases, stirring Jarek’s bark of laughter.
Many, many times. I rub my forehead. “A common theme for me these days, it seems.”
Satoria slips into my tent not long after I’ve settled, a lithe shadow moving through the dark as she struggles to see, her usual lantern absent.
I smile. “Good evening, terrible assassin. It’s been a while.”
She fumbles the air for my cot and when she finds it, she sheds her breeches.
I help her by lifting the blankets to allow her to slide in.
“I prefer your dungeon in Ostros. It was warmer, and you wore less.” She rests her head in the crook of my arm, her hands roaming my chest.
I chuckle. “Once, when I was very young, during a routine campaign through the realm, I shed all my armor and had an enjoyable night with one of my tributaries, only to wake up in the middle of the night under attack. I fought them off with my cock hanging out and nowhere to sheath my blades. I will never make that mistake again.”
Her slight body quakes with her giggle. “I would have enjoyed watching that.”
“What are you doing here tonight, Satoria? I would think you should be warming your husband’s bed instead, so what does he hope to gain from this? He has my sword and an allyship.” I’m past the point of pretending Cheral didn’t send her.
“I am here for you, not for him. I have long since stopped sharing his bed. I am barren and therefore undesirable.” There is sadness in her voice.
“You are far from undesirable, believe me. If I did not have another in my thoughts, I would have been buried deep inside you by now.”
She shudders with my words, her palm raking over my stomach, her fingertips slipping under the waistband of my breeches. “Where is she now?”
“I am not certain because Romeria will not tell me, but likely in her secret city, where she will remain and live a long, happy, mortal life. Without me, if the queen has any say.” The more I replay Tuella’s foretelling, the more I am convinced that I am not meant to survive the coming battle. And perhaps that is just as well. It is the price I must pay for my many mistakes and betrayals.
“We will be breaking camp in a few hours.” I press my lips against Satoria’s temple. “Good night.”
She burrows into me, unwilling to leave.
That night I sleep soundly.
62
Sofie
“Now I remember why I’ve avoided riding horses for so long.” I wince as I adjust in my saddle.
Malachi chuckles from his perch atop a black stallion, the gold crown gleaming despite the drizzle that falls from an overcast sky. “Your body will adjust to this way of life again soon, my love.” Raising his voice, he announces, “We will make camp here so the queen may rest.”
I will get no rest tonight, I’m sure, but I force a smile.
The Saur’goths bark orders at the servants, directing the supply wagons to a flat area on our right.
I spare a glance at the lords and ladies who were ordered to accompany us. The first one to openly question what purpose they served in this battle earned a blade through their stomach. No one else spoke after that, quickly gathering their servants and supplies. Now they wear fake smiles to mask their discontent. We have much in common.
“Come, my love.” Malachi reaches for me. “I have something to show you.”
The last of the daylight fades with our ride to the top of the hillcrest, and by the time we reach it, cook fires burn at our camp below.