Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 229266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1146(@200wpm)___ 917(@250wpm)___ 764(@300wpm)
That made sense. Casteel had said that aging slowed once an Atlantian entered the Culling. Quentyn may look my age or slightly younger, but he was most likely years older than me. “How did your father come to this position?”
“Not many wolven survived the war, so there simply wasn’t a lot to choose from,” he explained, and that…that was sad to consider. “Are you sure that is what you want to ask me about?”
It was.
And it wasn’t.
Another question burned through me, but I wasn’t going to ask that.
Kieran hesitated and then nodded. “Then goodnight, Penellaphe.”
“Goodnight,” I murmured, standing there until the door closed. Then I was alone. Alone with only my feelings, my own thoughts.
Promised to another.
Weariness enveloped me as I slowly walked into the bedroom. I went to the clothing Vonetta had brought over, relieved to see not a single item of white. I picked up a dark blue tunic with fine gold threading along the hem and edging. It was sleeveless and long, with slits up the sides. There was another that was gold, nearly the color of an elemental’s eyes. I smoothed my hand over the soft, cottony material. There was another shirt of emerald green, one with frilly sleeves and a fancy neckline. I sat the tops aside, finding two pairs of black leggings that were as thick as breeches, and both appeared as if they’d fit me. A hooded cloak made of cotton was folded on top of several new undergarments. Vonetta had mentioned the cloak, and now that I saw it, I knew she was right when she’d said it was far more suitable than the heavier winter cloaks.
But it was what lay underneath that confused me.
It was a splash of blue nearly as pale as a wolven’s eyes. I picked up the slippery, silky material, my eyes widening at the tiny straps and minimal length.
The thing was indecent.
But the nightgown I’d been given in New Haven was far too heavy for nights that didn’t drop below freezing, and this…this nightgown didn’t actually require a sash to stay closed, so there was that.
Dropping it onto the bed, I turned around and I had no idea how long I stood there before I sprang forward, racing back into the living area. I went to the door, placing my hands on it. Tentatively, I reached down and turned the handle.
The door opened.
I quickly closed it and slowly backed up, waiting for Kieran to return, to realize that he’d left the door unlocked. When he didn’t—when no one came—my hands trembled. And when I realized that no one had locked the door behind me earlier today or even the first night Casteel and I arrived, my arms began to shake.
I wasn’t caged anymore. A willing captive. I just hadn’t noticed that none of the doors had been locked from the outside.
Gods.
Realizing that did something to me. It unlocked the rawest emotion inside me, and it hit me hard. Sinking to the floor, I clasped my hands over my face as tears poured from me. The doors were unlocked. There were no guards, no one to govern me. If I wanted, I could simply walk out and go…well, wherever I wanted. I didn’t have to sneak out or pick a lock. The tears…they were borne of relief, and they were tinged with earlier hurts and older ones that had scarred many years ago. They were weighted with the knowledge of future pain, and they fell from the realization that tonight, when I sat at that table, I had finally shed the veil of the Maiden by defending myself. It wasn’t that I hadn’t done it before. I’d stood up for myself with Casteel and Kieran, and even Alastir, but tonight was different. Because there was no returning to the silence, to that submission. It didn’t matter if I was the neck that turned the head of a kingdom or an outsider in a room full of people who had every right to distrust me. Staying silent was only temporarily easier than shattering the silence, and that realization was painful. It shone a light on all the times I could’ve spoken up—could’ve risked whatever consequences. All of those things fed my tears.
I cried. I cried until my head ached. I cried until there was nothing left in me, and I was just a hollow vessel, and then…then I pulled myself together.
Because I was no longer a captive.
I was no longer the Maiden.
And what I felt for Casteel—what I was only beginning to accept—was something I had to deal with.
What I said tonight at dinner? It was true. All of it. Even that last part was true, wasn’t it? That even if I hadn’t entirely forgiven him for his lies or the deaths he’d caused, I’d accepted them because they were a part of his past—our past—and they didn’t change how I felt, right or wrong. That was what I’d denied for so long.