Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 610(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
A slow half grin tugged at his full mouth.
Before I could even consider that smile, another entered. One as tall as the first, but not as broad. The sharp, striking features were a cool shade of fawn, a startling contrast against the onyx-hued hair that fell over his forehead and into wide-set, narrow eyes— eyes that were such a pale shade of blue and green, they were nearly luminous in the candlelight. There was no brown that I could see in his irises, nor did he have the same almost frenetic aura of energy as the one who entered before him, but there was an undeniable keen sense of power as he gave us a once-over.
Then . . . then the air felt as if it were sucked out of the hall.
Prince Thorne entered as the flames went wild above the candles, dancing rapidly. Like a coward, I averted my gaze to the table. I didn’t see his expression, but I knew the very moment he saw me. Tiny shivers erupted over my skin. I felt his stare drilling into me, straining my nerves until I was a second away from making some sort of absurd noise like a squeak. Or a scream. Heat crept up my throat as I still felt his stare. Good gods, why in the holy fires was no one speaking? And how long were we supposed to—
“Please be seated,” Prince Thorne finally said, shattering the silence with his deep voice.
I all but collapsed into my chair as Claude surprisingly took a steadier seat. “It is an honor to have you at my table, Prince Thorne,” he said, and I felt a laugh bubbling up. Honor? He hadn’t sounded honored moments ago, but at least he sounded genuine. “Though, I do hope there will be no need for the armor between the servings of duck and fish.”
Armor? What?
“One can never be too prepared,” Thorne replied.
I peeked up, finding the three Hyhborn seated at the table and the staff in the midst of placing diamond-encrusted plates and glasses before them. The Hyhborn were indeed armored, a fact easily missed with a quick glance. The chest plates were covered in black leather, causing the armor to blend into the sleeveless black tunics beneath. There was something etched into the leather— a sword with a cross handle framed by . . . by wings— wings outlined in thread of gold.
“I was unaware that we would have company,” Prince Thorne stated.
My pulse skittered, and before I could stop myself, my gaze lifted to him. He was, of course, somehow seated directly across from me, and he . . .
Prince Thorne was devastating in the glow of the candles, his hair unbound and resting softly against his cheeks. He didn’t look remotely mortal then. I couldn’t seem to get my throat to work on a swallow as my eyes locked with his. The swirls of colors in his irises were still, but his regard was no less intense and piercing.
“Ah, yes. I figured since you two have already met, you wouldn’t mind her presence,” Claude said, champagne flute once more in hand. “I hope I’m not faulty in my assumption?”
“No.” Prince Thorne smiled, his stare not leaving me as he relaxed into his seat. “I do not mind her presence at all.”
I sank about an inch in my chair.
“In fact,” Prince Thorne continued, “I welcome it.”
My heart gave a strange little skip that I would need to smack myself for later as Claude cocked his head to the side. That terse silence fell again. After a small eternity, the Prince’s gaze shifted away, and I was finally able to swallow before I choked on my own saliva.
“And who may this be?” Prince Thorne asked.
“My cousin Hymel,” Claude answered, placing his flute by his plate. I hoped that glass stayed there. “As the Captain of the Guard, he is an integral part of Archwood Manor and the city.”
“Your Grace.” Hymel bowed his head respectively. “It is a great honor to have you and your men at our table.”
Our table? I barely contained my snort.
Prince Thorne eyed him, the curve of his well-formed lips nothing like the smiles I’d seen him give. His smile was cold. Dispassionate. My skin prickled.
“I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to those accompanying you,” Claude stated as the glasses of champagne were filled by the staff and plates generously loaded with a helping of all that was on offer.
“Commander Lord Rhaziel.” Prince Thorne extended a hand toward the Hyhborn who’d been the second to enter and then nodded at the other. “And Lord Bastian.”
Bas.
My gaze shot to the other Hyhborn lord, and I suddenly understood his smile when he had spotted me upon entering. He had been in the gardens that night, the one who had spoken to Prince Thorne while I slipped in and out of consciousness.