Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
It looks as if he's given up all pretense of pretending to be human. Azar's long, silky white-gold hair flows back from his brow, clean and neat. He wears a loose white robe that covers him from collar to wrist, a creation I've never seen before but was obviously made just for him. There are hints of embroidery at the edges of the sleeves and a gold frog-clasp at the high neck. The sunglasses are gone and his eyes are full gold, no sign of pupil or sclera. He looks otherworldly and practically elven, and I don't know how I ever thought he was human.
Like he said before, we only see what we want to see, and I'm disgusted at the sight of him.
He flicks another page in his book, barely glancing up. "You may leave us, my soldiers. Thank you for seeing my consort safely to me."
"Yes, Lord Azar." One has the nerve to fucking bow before he heads out the door. I hate all of this. I hate it so much. I know where this is headed, and I think I hate that most of all.
I remain where I am, silent, at the far end of the table. The doors close behind us, and it's just me and Azar alone. He flips over another page, peering at the illustration intently, and says nothing to me.
Does he want me to speak first? Fine, then. "If you expect me to bow and scrape, I'm not going to."
That makes him look up. "You are my consort. I would not expect you to bow obedience. I have made you my equal."
I snort, because I call bullshit on that. Me, his equal? "If I'm so equal, why did you force my clinic closed?"
Azar flips another page, then closes the book, as if I'm somehow interrupting his precious reading time. "I tried other routes. They did not work. I went for the one that did."
"You're forcing my hand."
"I'm forcing nothing," he says, cocking his head at me, studying me. "Are there chains upon your wrists? Were you dragged here unwillingly?"
"Your armed guards—"
"Escorted you," he says coldly. "If they did more than that, speak the word and I will have them executed."
I go silent. He'd kill someone, just like that. I know he would. I clench my jaw, trying to fight the anger bubbling through me. "You're forcing my hand," I say again, as calmly as I can. "We both know you are. Don't split hairs with me."
Azar smiles, showing strangely even, white teeth. "I am forcing nothing. You can turn around and leave right now. You can leave the fort and I will not stop you. But your clinic? I'm afraid I can't let that go on without my supervision." He glances over at the globe close to his hand and reaches out to touch the textured bits. "It won't do to have you openly defying my will, so it must be closed down. You understand."
"I don't, actually," I grit out. "Explain it to me."
"First, tell me what these raised brown blobs are. Why is some of this pink and green, and other parts blue?" He runs his fingers over the globe lightly, like he would a lover. "I have had this for days now, and I still cannot grasp its meaning."
He wants to talk about this now? "It's a map," I say. "Some of the countries are pink, and some are green. The raised up bits are mountains and high elevation."
"A map," he echoes, clearly fascinated. "What is all this blue, then?" His fingers skim over the Pacific Ocean.
"It's water."
His gaze jerks to me in surprise. "Water? All of this?"
I nod. "It's the ocean…do you not have oceans where you're from?"
His expression closes down and he shrugs. "It doesn't matter. I'm not there now, am I?" Azar's eyes are cool slits as he regards me, his hands lifting off the globe. "And here you are, angry at me because I've brought you into line. You wish to know why you cannot run your clinic? You can, as long as you perform your role."
"As your consort?" When he nods, I let out a bitter laugh. "You're joking, right?"
Azar gives me another toothy smile. "I am not, actually. I have seen the females of this place. You smell the loveliest. You are attractive to look upon. You are strong and intelligent and care for your people. These are all excellent qualities in a consort. If I am to set myself up as Lord here, I must have a Lady. I've decided that you are her." He sits up straighter. "As the leader here, I should have the best."
I want to scratch his face off with my nails.
Chapter
Three
AZAR
My words bother her. Good. Words are weapons, meant to be used to gain the advantage. That is what I was taught, and a good Salorian uses all of his lessons.