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)
“You think that of all the guards? That they are courageous?”
“I do.”
“Not all guards are good men, Princess.”
My eyes narrowed. “I know that. Bravery and strength do not equal goodness.”
“We can agree on that.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, and my chest felt inexplicably tight.
“You said your father was a farmer. Is he…has he gone to the gods?”
Something crept across his face, gone too quickly for me to decipher. “No. He is alive and well. Yours?”
I gave a small shake of my head. “My father—both of my parents are gone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, and it sounded genuine. “The loss of a parent or a family member lingers long after they’re gone, the pain lessening but never fading. Years later, you’ll still find yourself thinking that you’d do anything to get them back.”
He was right, and I thought that this was perhaps the source of the pain he felt. “You sound like you know firsthand.”
“I do.”
I thought of Finley. Had Hawke known him well? Most of the guards were close, developing a bond thicker than blood, but even if he hadn’t known Finley, there were surely others he knew that had been lost. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry for whoever it is that you’ve lost. Death is…”
Death was constant.
And I saw a lot of it. I wasn’t supposed to, as sheltered as I was, but I saw death all too frequently.
His head tilted, sending a tumble of dark locks over his forehead. “Death is like an old friend who pays a visit, sometimes when it’s least expected and other times when you’re waiting for her. It’s neither the first nor the last time she’ll pay a visit, but that doesn’t make any death less harsh or unforgiving.”
Sadness threatened to take up residence in my chest, crowding out the warmth. “That it is.”
He dipped his head suddenly, his lips nearing mine. “I doubt the need for conversation led you to this room. You didn’t come here to talk about sad things that cannot be changed, Princess.”
I knew why I came here tonight, and Hawke was right, yet again. It wasn’t to talk. I came here to live. To experience. To choose. To be anyone other than who I was. None of those things included talking.
But I’d had my first kiss tonight. I could stop there or tonight could be a night of many firsts, all of my choosing.
Was I…? Was I really considering this, whatever this was? Gods, I truly was. Tiny tremors rocked me. Could he feel them? They piled in my stomach, forming little knots of anticipation and fear.
I was the Maiden. The Chosen. My earlier convictions about what the gods concerned themselves with weakened. Would they find me unworthy? Panic didn’t seize me like it should. Instead, a spark of hope did, and that unsettled me more than anything. The tiny glimmer of hope felt traitorous and wholly concerning, given that being deemed unworthy resulted in one of the most serious consequences.
If I were to be found unworthy, I’d face certain death.
I’d be exiled from the kingdom.
Chapter 3
As far as I knew, there had only been one person who’d been found unworthy upon Ascension. Their name had been erased from our histories, as well as any piece of information about who they were and whatever deeds had caused his or her exile. They’d been forbidden to live among mortals, and without family, support, or protection, faced certain death. Even the villages and the farmers with their small Rises and guards suffered staggering mortality rates.
While my Ascension was different from the others, I could still be found unworthy, and I imagined my punishment would be just as grave, but I didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that.
No.
That was a lie.
I didn’t want to deal with that. I should, but I wasn’t leaving the room. I wasn’t stopping Hawke. I’d already made up my mind even if I didn’t understand why he was still here, with me.
Dampening my lower lip with my tongue, I felt dizzy and even a little faint, and I never felt faint. Those impossibly thick lashes lowered, and his gaze was so intent on my mouth that it was like a caress. I shivered.
Those eyes of his seemed even brighter than before as his finger traced the outline of my mask, all the way to where the satin ribbon disappeared under the fall of my hair. “May I remove this?”
Unable to speak, I shook my head no.
Hawke halted for a moment, and then the half-smile appeared—no dimple this time, though. He trailed his finger away from the mask, then ran it along the line of my jaw and down my throat, to where the cloak was fastened. “How about this?”
I nodded.
His fingers were deft, and he brushed the cloak aside and then trailed just one fingertip along the neckline, following the rapid rise and fall of the swell of my breast. A riot of sensations followed his finger, so many I couldn’t make sense of them all.