Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
I glanced at Ash. Plans for additional insulas that Rhain had dropped off a little bit ago lay on the corner of the desktop.
Swallowing a sigh, I shifted my attention to the table before me. Beside my plate were two and a half glasses, strawberries, a cutting board, and a knife.
It was a very odd combination of things.
Ash had put the ledgers there, instructing me to move them around, open them, and turn pages without touching or tearing them. It was I who had brought in the other items. And the other half of one of the glasses was in pieces in the trash bin.
I had no idea why moving a glass without breaking it was so hard when I had harnessed the eather to free myself and Ash before I Ascended and could use it to restore life to an entire Court.
According to Ash, it was because I was thinking about it too much when it didn’t come to, well, situations where I wasn’t angry or excited about something. I was complicating it and not letting it come naturally.
“Your thought is your will,” he’d said.
And that was about as helpful as my no-shit response.
“Liessa?”
“Hmm?”
“If you keep chewing on your fingers, you won’t have any left.”
I dropped my hand to my lap. “I’m not chewing on my fingers.”
“Little liar,” he murmured.
My eyes narrowed. He had his head bowed and tipped slightly to the side as he wrote in the Book of the Dead. “How would you even know? You’re not even looking at me.”
Ash lowered the quill and lifted his gaze. Wisps of eather spun in eyes that had become heated quicksilver. “I’m always looking at you, liessa.”
A flush hit my skin as I returned my attention to my lessons. Summoning the eather as I stared at the knife, I willed it to lift—
The knife flew into the air, and I swallowed a shout.
Concentration broken, the knife plummeted back down. I leaned forward, catching it before the blade stabbed the innocent table.
I peeked over at Ash. His brow was furrowed, and I was sure I was being a distraction. My attention returned to the table. I’d really wanted the flavored water and had only managed to slice—or smash—two strawberries, so I quickly chopped one up and tossed it into the pitcher with my hands. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have it until next year.
Placing the knife back down, I started to will it back into the air.
“Liessa?”
“Yes?”
“I’m curious,” he said, the quill moving quickly over the page. “Why have you moved on from slaughtering innocent glasses to throwing sharp instruments?”
My lips pursed. “Maybe I thought I would be more comfortable working with a blade.”
He smirked. “How’s that idea working out for you?”
“Just perfect.”
Ash chuckled as he closed the Book of the Dead. The quill vanished into thin air. “Perhaps you should stick to the ledgers and soft, non-pointy items.”
“Perhaps you should mind your business.”
“I would,”—he picked up one of the building plans—“except I am worried that this may end with you having to regrow an eye.” He paused. “Or we’ll end up without glasses to drink from.”
I sighed. “Like I said before, maybe I’m faulty.”
“You know, the more I think about it, the more I realize you might have a point.”
My eyes narrowed as I pictured the knife flying through the parchment he held.
Ash’s hand snapped up, catching the knife by the hilt right before it pierced the cream parchment. He slowly turned his head to me. “I assume you meant to do that.”
I smiled broadly. “I did.”
“Then what was different this time?” he asked.
“You annoyed me.”
“Other than that.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I wasn’t…”
“Overthinking it?”
“Shut up,” I muttered.
He grinned and placed the knife on the table. “I will, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re overthinking.”
He was right.
Whatever.
“Can I have my knife back?”
“I’m not sure you will behave yourself with it,” he replied.
My lips parted.
Ash smiled as he turned his attention back to the plans.
I returned to moving the glasses around for a few more minutes, spilling some water and stopping one from flying off the table.
“Can I have the knife back now?” I asked.
“Nope.”
I lifted my hand, and the blade flew off his desk, handle first. I easily caught it.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You weren’t—”
“If you say overthinking it one more time,” I warned, pointing the blade at him.
Ash just grinned, and honestly, why wouldn’t he? I was threatening him with a paltry paring knife.
I sighed. “I miss my dagger.”
In the next several minutes, I finally stopped overthinking things. I managed to lift several strawberries and plop them into the glass of water before my attention shifted to the bare shelves as I wondered what could be placed on them. Ash wasn’t the type to be into glass figurines as my stepfather had been. “You need knickknacks.”
Ash half-laughed. “What?”
“Knickknacks,” I repeated. “You know, small objects that are worthless to some but are something you enjoy.”