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 snort came from the general direction of Hymel, and I found myself suddenly staring at my knife. Oh, how badly I would enjoy stabbing Hymel with it.
“Goodness no.” Claude laughed, tipping his head back. “It’s a term of endearment for Lis.”
“Is that so?” murmured Prince Thorne. “What a . . . fitting endearment.”
Muscles along my spine tensed as my gaze collided with the Prince’s. There was no mistaking the derision in his tone. One needed only an ear to hear it. “Far more fitting than other endearments,” I said.
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I can think of at least one that is better suited.”
“You can?” Claude leaned forward, far too eager. “I am dying to hear what you’d think would be more fitting after spending such a short time with her.”
Prince Thorne opened his mouth.
“How have you all been enjoying the late-spring Midlands weather?” I jumped in, glancing among the Hyhborn. “I hear the weather of the Highlands is quite temperamental.”
“One could say that.” Lord Bastian leaned back in his seat, that grin of his having returned at some point. “It is far cooler than here.” He glanced at Prince Thorne. “What other terms of endearment are you thinking of?”
Oh, my gods. . . .
Prince Thorne’s lips curved up in a slow, smoky smile. “Na’laa.”
The Commander sounded like he choked.
“What does that mean?” Claude asked.
“It has many meanings,” Lord Bastian answered. “I am curious as to which is meant in this case.”
“He thinks I’m stubborn,” I said, meeting the Prince’s gaze.
“Well,” Claude drawled. “That I can agree with.”
“And ungrateful,” I added before Prince Thorne could.
Claude frowned.
“I was going to say brave,” Prince Thorne said instead.
My lips pursed as I felt my cheeks heat again.
Prince Thorne’s attention was fixed on me, hand curled loosely around the stem of his glass while his other fingers tapped on the surface of the table. He hadn’t eaten much but appeared to be done eating. Tentatively, I opened my senses and let them stretch out to him. I met the white wall almost instantaneously. The hand I pictured did nothing.
“The humidity here is quite unbearable,” the Commander added just then, almost reluctantly, as if he thought he needed to add something to the conversation that had veered so off track.
“Yes, we don’t escape the humidity that bleeds out from the Lowlands,” Claude was saying as his glass was topped off once more. “You’ll be relieved to learn that the worst of the humidity doesn’t arrive until the Feasts. I imagine you all will be gone well before then.”
“That I cannot answer,” Prince Thorne answered. “We will be here for some time.”
CHAPTER 21
I stiffened, caught between a wave of dread and . . . relief, and about a dozen other emotions I couldn’t even begin to figure out.
“Excuse me?” Claude choked.
Turning to him, I picked up the glass of water he had yet to touch. “Here.”
“Thank you, pet.” His smile was brittle as he refocused on the Hyhborn. “When will you be gone?”
“That is hard to answer,” Prince Thorne stated coolly, and I would’ve sworn the temperature of the hall dropped by several degrees.
“I believe there are matters best discussed in private,” Lord Bastian advised.
Claude jerked his head at the staff. They peeled away from the shadowed walls, quiet like spirits. Hymel remained seated, but I stood, ready to run from the room despite wanting to hear these matters myself, which I figured had to do with the Iron Knights.
“Your pet can stay,” Prince Thorne said.
I froze for half a heartbeat. Hands curling into fists at my sides, I slowly turned to the Prince. Our eyes locked once more.
He winked.
My nostrils flared as a rush of irritation swamped me.
The Prince’s smile warmed.
“Good,” Claude said, and before I could take a seat in my own chair, he tugged me down, into his lap. “I have a strong suspicion that I will be in need of her comfort during this conversation.”
Prince Thorne’s fingers stopped tapping. A fine shiver broke out over my skin as the candle flames rippled as if a wind had whipped into the hall, but there had been no such thing.
As soon as the staff had exited and the door closed, Prince Thorne spoke. “You appear . . . unnerved by the prospect of hosting us.”
“Just surprised. That is all.” Claude cleared his throat, tensing a bit. “I’m not at all displeased by the news.”
I glanced between the Hyhborn. I didn’t think anyone in the room believed that.
“I’m relieved to hear that,” Prince Thorne said. “I’m sure you’re aware of what is happening along the border with the Westlands. We’ve come to determine what course of action needs to be taken.”
“We have heard some news regarding this.” Claude kept an arm around my waist as he reached around, picking up his godsforsaken champagne.
Prince Thorne’s unflinching gaze made it hard to sit still. “The Westlands have amassed quite the army and it is believed that they will soon be marching across the Midlands. We suspect that the Princess of Visalia has her sights turned to Archwood and the Court of Primvera.”