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)
Fresh tears roll down my sister’s face.
And I’m neatly trapped.
Because my sister can bear children and I cannot. She is keeping the Vestalin bloodline alive and I am the useless one. She is also heavily pregnant with the heir to the throne. She cannot go to the tower, and Lionel’s hand on her stomach seems to proclaim that, even as he gives me a challenging glare.
Well, if he’s expecting me to volunteer myself, he’s delusional.
I clear my throat. “It will be difficult, but I am sure the people of Lios will be able to endure seven years of hardship if we prepare.” I smile brightly. “It is good they have a strong and mighty king to lead them.”
A titter surges through the court, and Lionel’s face goes florid with anger. “You would rather have your people suffer than volunteer yourself to the tower?”
He’s calling me out in front of the entire court, just as I suspected he would. But still, I feign ignorance. I put a hand to my breast and gasp loudly. “My lord, I cannot go. I have the blood sickness. I am tainted.” I do my best to look helpless and woebegone. “I must be administered medicine daily and we all know that the one that goes to the tower must go alone.”
“Your nurse will teach you how to dose yourself. And the kingdom will supply you with food and drink so your stay in the tower is a comfortable one.” He leans forward on his throne, clutching the arms and glaring down at me. “If you do not go, the ships waiting to bring our men to the borders of Darkfell will be stranded here. The ships that carry grain to our people from across the sea will be unable to arrive. Cities would starve. Children would go hungry. You would sacrifice all of this for your personal comfort? Are you not the line of the hero? Are you not the blood of Ravendor Vestalin?”
Ugh. I hate his sanctimonious tone. I look at my sister, at her red-rimmed eyes, and I hate the sorrow I see there. She’s going to be so disappointed in me, and yet I’m not going to commit myself to such a terrible fate. Seven years in the tower will be a death sentence for me. Even if I learned how to give myself my medication, I cannot be away from court for that long. I am the eyes and ears for my sister, hearing rumors that she does not. I am busy, too. There are holiday feasts and banquets every month until the next solstice. I cannot go to the tower and miss those. I am…too popular. Yes, that’s it. “I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”
“Very well,” King Lionel says, his expression full of remorse. “Then your sister must go.”
I gasp in shock. So does Erynne.
Chapter
Three
That rotting bastard.
Lionel would send my pregnant, miserable sister to the tower just so he can have his warships? So he can have the offensive in his silly war against silly Darkfell? Who here at court has even seen a Fellian? They keep to their mountains. Why should we war against them? I grit my teeth, hating the king with every fiber of my being. I fist my hands against my ridiculous pink skirts, furious. “You cannot send her. She’s pregnant with your heir!”
The king affects a grieving expression. “It is true. It would be extremely inconvenient, as my love would have to give birth alone.” He gives the weeping, incredulous Erynne a woebegone expression. “But once the child is born, she can hand it over to us. It is the Royal Offering that cannot step foot outside while the Golden Moon is in the skies. My child can yet be raised at my side here at court.”
Monster.
Absolute shite-weasel monster. I hate him.
As if sensing the anger bubbling inside me, King Lionel gives me a most pious look. “Understand that it is not my choice, Princess Candromeda. But to protect my people, one of the Vestalin line must go. Surely you understand.” He looks over at Erynne and takes her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I will sacrifice my queen if it means I keep my people from harm.”
“I will go,” Erynne says in a wobbling voice, wiping tears from her eyes with her free hand. “You know I cannot let our people suffer.”
Oh, this is such dragon shite. I roll my eyes. Does she really expect me to believe that she’s going to enter the tower and give birth—alone—and then hand her baby back out to a nurse? And that she will let Lionel reign, unchecked, for the next seven years?
I sigh heavily and dramatically, because I’m cornered and I hate it. I hate all of them right now. “It seems I have no choice, do I?”