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)
Nemeth leans back on his stool, his jaw clenching in a way that makes those prominent lower canines jut out. “You think I have so little control over myself?”
“You are a man.” I raise my brows at him. “And I seem to recall someone watching me in my bath with great interest.”
His craggy face creases and he laughs, shaking his head. Amusement is written all over his expression. “I seem to recall a princess who shamelessly soaped herself in front of me, practically daring me to say something.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I lift my chin. “There was no soap.”
He slaps his knee and laughs harder, the sound so booming that it reminds me of the thunder of last month’s storms. His smile is wide and genuine, and I begin to smile, too. I like his laughter. It feels like so long since I’ve had something to laugh or smile about, and I’m a happy person, damn the gods. Why am I doomed to be miserable here? Why can’t I be happy even if I’m trapped? Why not make the best of it?
Maybe that’s possible if we’re friends instead of enemies.
His smile fades a little and he gives me a rueful look, his hands resting on his big thighs. “I have had nothing but books for companionship these last few months. While it is keeping me sane, I would prefer the company of another person. You, my suspicious princess, are low on food and fuel. I am low on people to talk to. Can we not pool our resources and spend our time together?”
He makes it sound so good. I imagine Lionel’s expression when he hears I’m in the enemy’s bed. That I’m friendly with a Fellian. That he’s better at this “tower sacrifice” thing than I am. I would be banished from court for being a Fellian sympathizer. Not even the Vestalin bloodline would save me from his wrath. My sister Erynne would be furious at my disloyalty, too. The crown must be strong and unified in order to lead the people, and the Fellians are longtime enemies of Lios. She would be disappointed that I have not yet killed Nemeth. Erynne would have. Erynne always does the right thing.
And yet Lionel is not here. My sister is not here.
This tower is our world for the next seven years. Why spend it at odds?
I look at Nemeth, and then at his room, brimming with supplies and books. I compare it to my sparse pantry. “You realize I have a lot more to gain from our alliance than you do?”
“Does it matter?” He holds his hand out, palm up. “If you trust me, I trust you.”
That makes me bite my lip. “That’s the hard part,” I confess. “Trusting you.”
“Princess,” he says, and his tone is exasperated. “If I wanted you dead, I could have just let you die at my doorstep instead of spending the last few days nursing you back to health.”
Oh. That brings me up short. He’s absolutely right.
And I’m being a suspicious ass.
“You’re right,” I say, and put my hand into his. “I’m being unfair. Let’s be friends, shall we?”
He grins, and for the first time in a long time, I have hope that all this might turn out all right.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Nemeth is an annoying nursemaid.
After our initial agreement to work together, he insists I visit the garderobe, and then nap again. I need to regain my strength, he says, and after my quick jaunt to relieve myself, I’m tired and decide it’s not such a bad idea.
The next day, he insists I stay in bed while he fusses over me. Pillows are fluffed, blankets are adjusted, and he makes me more soup. I’m feeling much better and like myself again, but when I try to get out of bed, Nemeth is not happy with this idea.
“Where do you have to go that’s so urgent?” he asks. “Stay in bed. If you are bored, I will give you one of my books. If you are hungry, I will feed you. If you need to go to the garderobe, I will assist you.”
I frown at him. “I can walk on my own.”
“Three days ago you were at death’s door,” he reminds me.
“And now I am not. Which means I do not need you at the garderobe door.” I get to my feet, smooth my chemise out, and then head for the door to his room, my shoulders straight.
Nemeth hovers over me, a frown on his face. “You will come right back?”
“No, actually. I’m going to go up to my room once I’m done.” It’s not that I need anything specific, I just…need a moment alone to think. A moment to breathe. Nemeth has been nothing but kind for these last few days, but my skin itches with the need to put some distance between us, even if it’s only for a few minutes. Maybe six months alone truly has taken a toll on me.