Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 950(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
“I’m sure you would be,” Hawke murmured.
“And I haven’t forgotten what happened to Malessa or that someone tried to abduct me.”
“You haven’t? Then I guess you just didn’t take any of that into consideration when you decided to go gallivanting through the city to the library."
“I didn’t go gallivanting through anything. I went through Wisher’s Grove and was on the street for less than a minute,” I told him. “I also had my cloak up and this mask on. No one could even see a single inch of my face. I wasn’t worried about being snatched, but I also came prepared, just in case.”
“With your trusty little dagger?” The dimple reappeared.
“Yes, with my trusty little dagger,” I snapped, about two seconds away from throwing the thing in his face. Again. “It hasn’t failed me before.”
“And that was how you escaped abduction the night Rylan was killed?” he surmised. “The man wasn’t scared off by approaching guards.”
I exhaled noisily. There was no point in lying about this now. “Yes. I cut him. More than once. He was wounded when he was called off. I hope he died.”
“You are so violent,” Hawke all but purred.
“You keep saying that, but I’m really not.”
Hawke laughed again, the sound deep and real. “You really aren’t all that self-aware.”
“Whatever,” I muttered. “How did you even realize I was gone?”
“I checked on you,” he said, running a hand along the back of the settee. “I thought you might want company, and it seemed stupid for me to stand out in the hall bored out of my mind with you inside your room, most likely bored out of yours. Which, obviously, you were since you left.”
What he said caught me off guard. “Did you really?”
His brows lifted.
“I mean, did you really check on me to ask if I…I wanted company?”
Hawke nodded. “Why would I lie about that?”
“I…” I didn’t know how to explain that not even Vikter did that when he was on duty. My guards weren’t allowed, as the Duke would see that as being too familiar. But no one checked on the old wing. Still, Vikter stayed outside, and I stayed inside, but Hawke was different. He’d shown that from the beginning. I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Hawke was quiet, and when I glanced over at him, I saw that he was closer, leaning against the settee. “How did you end up on the ledge?”
“Well, that’s kind of a funny story…”
“I imagine it is. So, please, spare no details.” He crossed his arms.
I sighed. “I came to find something to read, and I stopped inside this room. I…I didn’t want to go back to mine yet, and I didn’t realize that anything about this room was special.” I eyed the liquor cabinet. That alone should have been a warning. “I was in here, and I heard the Duke outside in the hall. So, hiding on a ledge was a far better option than having him catch me here.”
“And what would’ve happened if he had?”
I shrugged once more. “He didn’t, and that’s all that matters.” I quickly moved on. “He had a meeting here with a guard from the prison. At least, I think that’s who it was. They were talking about the Descenter who threw the Craven hand. The guard got the man to talk. He said that the Descenter didn’t believe that the Dark One was in the city.”
“That’s good news.”
Something about his tone snagged my attention. I glanced at him. “You don’t believe him?”
“I don’t think the Dark One has survived as long as he has by letting his whereabouts be widely known, even by his most fervent supporters,” he responded.
Unfortunately, he had a point. “I think…I think the Duke is going to kill the Descenter himself.”
He tilted his head slightly. “Does that bother you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do, and you just don’t want to say it.”
It was so freaking irritating how correct he was…and how often. “I just don’t like the idea of someone dying in a dungeon.”
“Dying by public execution is better?”
I stared at him. “Not exactly, but at least then it’s being done in a way that feels…”
“Feels like what?”
I inhaled heavily. “At least then it doesn’t feel like it’s something being hidden.”
Hawke stared back at me, almost curiously. “Interesting.”
The corners of my lips turned down. “What is?”
“You.”
“Me?”
He nodded and then moved, his hand striking out. Before I even knew what he was doing, he had a hold of the book.
“Don’t!” Unprepared, my fingers slipped over the leather binding, and then it was free from my hand. He had it! Oh, my gods, he had the journal, and that was worse than falling to my death. If he saw what it was about—
“The Diary of Miss Willa Colyns?” His brows knitted as he turned it over. “Why does that name sound familiar?”