Total pages in book: 207
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 985(@200wpm)___ 788(@250wpm)___ 657(@300wpm)
“I guess I’m just human.” Soleil shrugged uncomfortably, thinking that the marquis was too insightful for his own good. Changing the subject, she asked, “Have you seen the man I was pursuing?”
The marquis grimaced. “I wish you wouldn’t put it quite that way. It makes me wish I could kill him the second time.”
The second time?
A moment later, the marquis was cupping her elbow and gently turning her around, and that was when Soleil saw him.
Wilbur’s corpse was swinging lifelessly mid-air, a rope of vines wound around his throat. Either he had hung himself in guilt, or the wraiths had done it for him.
She closed her eyes and prayed for his soul, even though she knew it was pointless.
“You’re too gentle for this kind of job,” the marquis murmured when she finished praying.
“Gentle,” she reminded him with a deliberately gentle tone, “doesn’t mean weak.”
They started to walk, her hand on his arm, and her stupid sense of humor struck, making her want to laugh at the most inappropriate moment. There was a dead body behind them, and here they were, strolling like they were taking a walk at the park.
Ilie noticed the way her slim shoulders shook a little. “What’s so funny?”
She froze, wondering if he found her demeanor too cold and insensitive.
Correctly interpreting the dismay on her lovely face, Ilie shook his head with a faint smile. “Be at ease, milady. I’m more amazed than anything that you’ve willingly chosen this type of life, and more so that you’ve been able to maintain any kind of humor despite what you have to face daily.”
“I s-see.” Soleil didn’t like to think of how relieved she felt at the marquis’ explanations. If she did, then it would mean acknowledging she cared greatly about his opinion – when she did not.
She could not, or at least not just yet.
“I hear your sisters calling to you.”
She blinked. “What for?” That he was telling the truth was not to be doubted. All otherworlders had naturally heightened senses, and more so when they were as old as Ilie, who had roamed the earth for almost a millennium.
Ilie cocked his head. “She says she received a call from Crystal.” He glanced at her. “If you believe it’s urgent, I can take you to them in a second.”
“I suppose it—-” The marquis picked her up in his arms.
“—-could be urgent,” she finished breathlessly, because what was supposed to be a ten-minute sojourn had been completed in two seconds, and she now found herself staring back at her sisters’ sly gazes.
Ilie carefully lowered her to her feet.
“Showoff,” she muttered under her breath.
“Only to serve you, milady,” Ilie said without missing a beat.
“Hurrah,” Fleur exclaimed as she clapped her hands in delight. “You saved her!”
“You’re so lucky,” Aurora gushed, “to have found someone like the marquis.”
Soleil rolled her eyes. “Drop it.” She knew that the only reason they were so intent on pushing her towards the marquis was because they wanted her to agree to be his heartkeeper – and save her life in the process.
But her younger sisters only laughed, and then they were pulling Soleil away from the marquis, their pretty, blood-spattered faces wreathed in smiles.
“Crystal called,” Fleur informed her. “Your new student’s sent word, and the ship carrying her should be docking in about a half hour’s time.”
“She wants you to be her welcoming committee,” Aurora added.
She glanced down at her watch, a sensible-looking Patek Philippe, and nodded thoughtfully. “I should make it if you drop me off the port—-”
“No need,” the marquis interjected. “It would be best if I take you there. Your sisters would appreciate an early rest, surely.”
Fleur suddenly yawned. “I am feeling a little tired.”
Aurora touched her forehead. “And I’ve a bit of a headache, to be honest.”
Soleil stared at them stoically. “You do know that you two are the worst actresses in history, do you not?”
But the two younger women ignored her and instead turned to the marquis. Curtsying at the same time, they murmured, “Milord.”
Soleil glared. “Oh, for fudge’s sake!”
The marquis ignored her, too, bowing as he murmured, “Miladies.” But his arm shot forward at the same time, barring Soleil from trying to escape.
When he straightened, she told him, “But my dress is in our carriage, and I still have to change—-”
Ilie cocked his head to the side, and then a moment later, he murmured, “My coachman has already retrieved it.”
She stared at him in consternation.
“Whatever their reasons,” he said coaxingly, “you must admit that they will benefit from an early night. Do you truly desire them to accompany you to the port when they don’t have to?”
Drat this man.
He knew just which strings to pull to have her do what he wanted.
“I despise you,” Soleil mumbled.
He brought her hand to his lips. “I thought you’d see it my way.”
The four of them parted ways when they reached their respective carriages, with her sisters blowing her kisses and pretending to sniff back tears like they were about to send Soleil off with her bridegroom.