Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
My sister tucked her head and rubbed at her eyes, working through her thoughts, only to mutter, “You are a wonderful teacher though. The way you have explained swordsmanship to me the last few nights? I have an understanding of complex movements that I never had before.”
She wasn’t trying to flatter. I knew her well enough to know Maeve would never waste her time on platitudes. This was her honest opinion.
Voice shaking, I fought not to fall apart. “I can’t stay here! Help me get to the fog.”
With compassion, she nodded. “I will.”
Grabbing at her hands, I held them in mine, whispering, “There is a male at the academy who wants me for his mate. General Cyderial would not tell me who it is. But he is here, and he is watching me.”
Eyes wide, she squeezed my fingers. “Is that why he has been pressuring you to submit to the list? To prevent a recruit from trying to claim you?”
There was not a single boy in the entirety of the academy who I would consider interesting enough to mate. Not one. “I think so.”
Just the two of us in my meager cell, I filled her in on the conversation that had taken place between myself and the old man, unable to answer her questions, because General Cyderial had given me so little to work with.
She too agreed that ruin seemed the only loophole, considering the limited information we had.
Blonde curls loose so she might toy with them while we spoke, Maeve helped me outline a plan, all the while combing her mane into fluff.
The following day, we would break free of our prison and follow the path the instructors used to access the city. We would find a place where hybrid males congregated, approach in stealth, and get this over with.
Agnes and Tamsyn were not to be included, consulted, or considered. Lower numbers would keep the operation tight, and should we be caught, there was no point in all three of us being put to death. If they knew nothing, they had nothing to fear.
Seated at the edge of my cot, her ankles crossed primly, she gave me her vow. One that would lead to more than my ruin. “Lorieyn, tomorrow night, we will find you a male. You will have the fog, and I will graduate top of class.”
10
Preparing my body so I might tempt a stranger into sex was more confounding than I’d anticipated. It wasn’t often I looked at myself in the mirror in consideration of whether I was or was not attractive to males.
Secretly in the past, late at night, I had styled my hair to look like the pictures in the magazines. I had played with my lipstick and tried on my forbidden dress. But these things had been done only for my pleasure. To please me, not a man.
To feel female and pretty. To feel normal.
Mating had been far from my thoughts. And I had never needed to consider how to attract a male. My song assured a man would want me completely—my personality and appearance were unimportant.
Those boys who kissed me in the dark all those years ago probably didn’t even know my name. I had hardly seen them; they could hardly see me. It was about breaking rules with who was there, nothing personal.
Trying to tempt a man to ruin me was very personal.
Were my lips too thin? My breasts had been problematic under my uniform, but in my dress, were they feminine enough?
Did men like brown hair? Or would they prefer bouncy blonde curls of the variety Maeve possessed?
There would be no song to tempt an unmated hybrid, and though General Cyderial had claimed I was genetically perfect, I did not know if that translated into attractiveness.
My eyes were hooded, my lashes thick and dark but short and straight. They did not extend and curl upward as Tamsyn’s did. I did not have Agnes’s dimples.
I was a bit smaller-boned than many of my sisters, but not nearly as petite as Maeve. She was tiny, with a whole lot of personality packed into her diminutive figure.
My features reflected my mother's ancestry. And though I had always loved that I resembled her, and it was true I did think she was beautiful, but was that just because she was my mother?
In honesty, my memory of her had faded over the years, and much of it may have been idealized. I had spent more time imagining her than I could remember actually spending in her presence.
Five years old was too young to be taken from one’s mother, and I had only been allowed to visit her once per year afterward. The highlight of my year, the reason I behaved as well as I could and followed every rule.
All for a precious thirty minutes of her presence, under the suspicious eyes of five watchers, of course.