Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
“Ah.”
I wonder if he’s mentally cataloging how to use this against me as he withdraws his hand from mine. Thunder rumbles again, and then I hear a tap tap.
The room fills with light.
I gasp, stunned. It’s a pale, gentle white light, and it seems to be emanating entirely from a rounded white stone set upon a pedestal. Nemeth lifts his large clawed hand from its surface and then moves farther down in the room and taps a claw upon another one of those stones, and the room grows even brighter.
The bastard isn’t even using candles.
My jaw hangs open in shock. I want to memorize everything in his room now that I can see, or gaze my fill on the craggy, unpleasant face of the Fellian in front of me, or eye his lack of clothing, but I can’t take my eyes off of the shining globes that seemingly produce their own brilliant light. One would be enough to see by. Two feels like decadence, and then the bastard goes and lights a third one.
Harsh thunder rumbles again, shaking the tower so hard that the bed quakes and the globes shiver. Nemeth turns back to me. “Better?”
I lift a finger, pointing at the globes. “You…how…how did you do that?”
“Magic,” he replies, as if this is the most obvious thing ever. “You do not have magic? At all?”
I shake my head, mystified. “I told you I didn’t.”
“You are my enemy. You could have lied.” But he runs his hand over one of the globes, caressing it. “It seemed a wise thing to bring a few with me. One must be prepared for all occasions.”
And he gives me a pointed look that tells me he doesn’t think me very prepared at all.
I suspect he knows I’m low on candles, too. It seems like something Nemeth would be aware of. That, and he’s probably guessed from my fumbling about in the darkness. If I had one of those globes, it would save me from having to light a candle every time I needed a hint of light. It’d save me tinder, too. I could keep it for my fires. “How does that work?” I ask. “Do you say a spell over it?”
“You tap it twice and it lights up. That’s all.”
“Can you make me one?” I try to keep the eagerness out of my voice, but it’s impossible. The hunger is written all over my face, I imagine. I have never needed anything as much as I need one of these magic globes of light.
Nemeth hesitates and then shakes his head. “I do not have the supplies here.”
Disappointment crashes over me, but only for a moment. A new idea takes place. “Can I bargain with you for one?”
“A bargain?” he looks skeptical. “What is it you think you have that I could want?”
I fiddle with my chemise, thinking. He’s right that I don’t have a lot in the way of supplies that would entice him. I have less food, so I can’t offer him that. I have no books, and judging from the looks of his quarters, he is a great reader. One wall is filled entirely with massive tomes. I can’t even offer my knife—not that I would. I have little in the way of wood to burn, or candles, or anything…unless he wants a dress. “Fabric?” I ask. “I could take apart one of my dresses and you could use the material for…something?”
He snorts and gestures down at the short leather kilt he wears that barely covers his massive thighs. Right. He doesn’t wear human clothing. In fact, he wears very little clothing at all, it seems. “Blankets? A cloak?”
Nemeth shakes his head again, those strange horns of his making the action seem exaggerated. “You have nothing.”
Despair curls through me. “Please,” I say, reaching out and touching his hand. “I need one desperately.”
He stares down at my hand on his arm, and then his wings twitch.
I don’t move.
Neither does he.
Oh.
Oh. I look down at my hand on his arm. I suppose I do have something to bargain with. He’d stared for a very long time at my breasts, after all, when I was in my bath. How much will I be willing to do for one of those globes? To have light constantly and easily?
I’d be willing to do quite a lot.
I look up at him and carefully put my hand on his thigh. Even as I do, I use my other hand to tug down the neckline of my chemise, revealing my cleavage. “There’s nothing I have that you want?”
Nemeth jumps up so suddenly that the bed shakes. “I do not want that.”
Oh.
Gods, I’m horrified and full of shame. I can’t believe I just offered myself—a princess—for a magical light source. Worse than that, I’ve offered myself to the enemy. My face burns and I jerk away, grabbing my neckline and hauling it up high. I snatch my candle off the bed and race out of his quarters, humiliated.