Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 245(@200wpm)___ 196(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Time was of the essence.
Boraleashe fell in step beside his brother, Notalus, while their court followed at a respectable distance. He glanced around the palace grounds, taking in the autumn scenery. Fhomhair was a world different from Tir an Amárach. He observed servants smiling while picking ripened fruit from the trees in the courtyard. He wondered if every task in Fhomhair, no matter how menial, was an absolute joy to perform.
In the Arctic World, Boraleashe’s people had to hunt and gather their food, often in treacherous conditions. His brother’s people congregated with friends and family, able to roam the vast land free of any danger and threats.
Guards and occupants of the palace stopped and bowed when they walked past, and Boraleashe was mindful of being courteous in return, but he was not there for ceremony; he wasn’t there for a holiday visit. His life and his land were in danger, and there was but one man who could help him, but his hopes diminished with each step he took through Fhomhair’s colorful paradise.
Who would dare want to leave this kingdom for me?
Notalus seemed to walk forever to get to the guest quarters. Boraleashe was led up numerous steep stone steps and through halls decorated with expensive tapestries and paintings of fall landscapes. They weaved in and out of open courtyards full of trees and greenery flourishing under the autumn sun. Boraleashe unclasped the thick sable fur from around his neck and passed it behind him. He didn’t know which servant took it; it didn’t matter. He was burning up.
“By the gods, Notalus, how much further? You live in a damn twenty-story fortress. We should’ve flown to my rooms,” he complained after turning the hundredth corner and heading down another long, well-lit corridor. “And does it have to be so goddamn hot in here? You have the sun’s heat waves coming in through every opening.”
Notalus may have thought Boraleashe didn’t see him roll his eyes or hear the cursed grumble under his breath, but he did.
“Right this way, my lord.” A slim, handsome man in a sleek black tailcoat hurried ahead of them and gestured toward a set of double doors beyond an overdressed sitting area.
“Thank you,” Boraleashe sighed. “Finally.”
Notalus followed him into the rooms. “I hope you will find everything to your satisfaction, Boraleashe. I would’ve had more accommodations if I had known of your arrival.”
“I’m sure,” he muttered.
No doubt there would’ve been sunflowers, apple wine, and fruit baskets galore in his quarters if he had sent word ahead of his arrival, all things that repulsed him.
His viceroy, Adresin, went to the balcony that overlooked a majority of the kingdom before he answered Notalus. “We won’t need much, lord. Our court are humble servants. What you have here is more than enough.”
“Boraleashe, this is Iulien Galis, head of my personal staff. He will see to your every need while you’re in Fhomhair.”
Boraleashe responded to the deep bow Iulien gave before he stood with his spine straight and his hands clasped behind his back. “Is there anything I can provide for you at this moment, my lord?”
Boraleashe undid the first couple of buttons at the neck of his tunic. “Yes, there is.” He pointed to the massive stone fireplace that looked as though it’d just been lit, the blaze heating the room to an unlivable temperature. “I need you to extinguish the gateway to Hades’ underworld over there. And please be sure that none of my ales or teas contain even a drop of pumpkin or cinnamon.”
Iulien bowed again, a slight grin tilting one side of his thin lips when he answered, “Of course, lord.”
Notalus came toward him. “I would hate for you to be uncomfortable in this climate, Boraleashe. How long will you be gracing us with your presence?”
The annoyance in Notalus’ voice was evident, but at least his brother was being courteous enough to host him regardless of Boraleashe’s manners and rudeness.
“Rest assured, lord. Our stay will be brief,” Adresin answered for him, his soft voice dripping with kindness.
“How brief?” Notalus retorted, and Boraleashe could feel his brother’s eyes boring into his back.
“Until I have what I’ve come for.” Boraleashe struggled to keep his temper in check.
Adresin touched Boraleashe lightly on his shoulder, a gentle reminder to remember their mission, but he chose that moment to ignore the warning.
“Leave us, Notalus,” Boraleashe asserted, not asking.
Knowing it would be considered disrespectful, Boraleashe jerked hard on his wind from the north and sent it hurtling into the room with a powerful enough surge that made Notalus shield himself with his robe before the doors to Boraleashe’s chambers slammed shut.
Adresin threw him a furious glare. “You won’t earn Notalus’ understanding by disrespecting him in his own home, nor will he advocate for you to his son.”
Boraleashe didn’t watch his viceroy turn his back on him and walk away.