Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
At the sound of his name though, Fordham’s gaze jumped to the general. “Your name rings true among my people.”
Constantine bowed his head once. “The genocide of your forefathers was a true tragedy. I only did what I could to make sure it wasn’t complete.”
Fordham nodded, his throat bobbing. “They speak kindly of you. Those who remain.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.”
Kerrigan glanced between them. She didn’t know what was happening. She and Fordham had only been here a matter of weeks. She had barely learned the history of the people. How had Fordham made it seem like he had ancestors who had fought in the war?
“What happened to the Fae?” Kerrigan asked.
Something extinguished in Fordham’s eyes at the question.
Constantine, too, looked troubled, but he was the one to answer. “You haven’t heard of the Road to Leon Massacre?”
“No,” she said softly.
“The Fae were always persecuted in Domara for their magic. The Doma …” Constantine glanced around, as if expecting one to jump out and slay him for speaking ill of them. “Well, they aren’t friendly to those who have powers that they don’t understand. It was why they removed many of the dragons. So many of the Fae were rounded up and sent away. During the Ando-Domaran War, the Fae partnered with Andine. Both wanted a free world.”
“They were slaughtered,” Fordham said hollowly. “Every last one of them.”
Kerrigan blanched. “Gods.”
“There are only pockets of Fae left in the world,” Constantine said. “Most have had to lie with humans to keep up their numbers at all.”
Her fingers went to her ears. “Fae-touched.”
“Indeed. There’s some interest around them again now that the war is a more distant memory … for most.” He glanced to Fordham. “Did you have family in Leon?”
“No. I fought on different battlefields. But I feel the pain of their loss all the same.”
“As we all do,” Constantine said softly. Then, he glanced between them. “Will I get the story of how you know each other?”
Fordham snapped out of it then. His gaze landed back on Kerrigan. Want mixed with regret at the sight of her. “We fought on the same battlefield.”
Constantine looked dubious. Even with someone else explaining their connection, his prejudice against female fighters still made him refuse to believe the truth.
“Well, I know Fae allow their women to train to fight,” he said dubiously. “Though I don’t understand it myself.”
Fordham opened his mouth to respond, then promptly snapped it shut. A haze fell over his entire body, as if he was preparing to run, and yet he was positively immobilized.
“There you are, darling!” a woman’s voice crooned as she stepped out of the mass of people in the ballroom to where they stood.
She was of an indistinguishable age with honey-blonde hair that shone like starlight in the tight curls, like a cloud around her head. A style that Kerrigan had noticed was in vogue. Something she had never had to work at with her natural spirals. The woman had a layer of cosmetics pressed to her skin with full dark-red lips. Her white toga was draped perfectly to the high fashion of the room and trimmed with the deepest purple. A senator’s wife then. Kerrigan would have known her as powerful just by the exaggerated confidence in her gait.
“Iris,” Constantine said with a slight head bow. “Always a pleasure.”
Though he held no warmth in his voice.
“Hello, General,” she said crisply. “I shouldn’t be surprised to find you with my Fae darling. Have you been catching up on old war stories?” She laughed maliciously, and no one joined her.
Constantine stiffened. “He’s one of yours?”
“Found him myself.” Her eyes drifted down Fordham’s front, and Kerrigan felt sick to her stomach. That was a possessive look. Given to something owned. Like a necklace or sword. Not a person. “Spent the last six months breaking him in.”
Kerrigan jolted at those words. “Six months?”
Fordham imperceptibly shook his head. He was warning her off of an enemy. She had seen that look from him enough to know that speaking up had been a mistake.
Iris’s gaze shifted to Kerrigan, who had as yet gone unnoticed. “Oh! Is this your little Fae-touched Doma pretender?”
She circled Kerrigan like a fox looking upon a rabbit. Kerrigan stayed perfectly still. She could feel the shift in power in the room. The crackle of magic that promised dominance. She no longer had it thrumming through her veins, but still … she knew it was there, awaiting orders.
“She looks just like one,” Iris concluded. “And you’re giving her to Tarcus?” She clucked her tongue. “Short-sighted.”
“She isn’t promised to Tarcus.”
“Truly?” Iris hummed under her breath as she came back to Kerrigan’s front. “He’s crowing about his new Doma girl well enough.”
Fordham’s brows knit together in confusion. The word Doma hung between them, but still, he said not a word. She had just as many questions as he did.