Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“They sent me to the mine, of course. I’d never been so terrified. That was where I met Sven. We were both young boys, and we bonded right away. As I laboured in the mine, I discovered more and more of my magical powers. After many years, I was powerful enough to cast a spell that would show me exactly what happened to my father and why he never returned to me. That’s when I saw everything that happened with your parents and how he died.”
My chest tightened again. I had no sympathy for Theodore or how he met his end, but I did have sympathy for a younger Vasilios seeing the father he never got the chance to meet die, knowing at that moment that he never would meet him. Not in his lifetime. I understood why he would despise my parents, and Rita, his half-sister, even if they really didn’t deserve his hatred.
“I might not agree with it, but I can understand why you’d want to hurt them,” I said in a low voice, and his eyes flicked to mine. “I mean, if I were in your shoes, I’d probably feel the same way.”
Something in his gaze told me he appreciated my admission.
Our gazes held for a prolonged moment before he cleared his throat, “So, uh, the mark. You wanted to know more about it.” He shook his head at himself. “I don’t know why I ended up giving you a full history of my tragic family situation.”
“Don’t apologise. It was good to hear it,” I said, glancing down at the floor. “It’s actually helped me understand you better.”
Again, our gazes locked. Something hummed between us, and a pleasant vibration danced across my chest. I rubbed my sternum and noticed Vasilios’s eyes glowing.
“You feel it, too,” he whispered.
“Yes,” I whispered back, the vibration increasing in intensity. “What is it?”
“The mark. I think it likes it when we get along,” he explained, and I definitely didn’t know what to think about that.
“Oh. Okay. That’s … interesting, I guess.”
An awkwardness fell before Vasilios said, “It’s such an inefficient way of finding a partner. I mean, it doesn’t take into account that feelings can change. You give someone this mark that lasts for a lifetime, but what if you change your mind? Fall out of love?”
“Yes, you’re right. After all, you don’t feel the same for me now as you did before. And yet, here we are, stuck with this inseverable link,” I said.
“Exactly,” Vasilios agreed, but there was something odd in his eyes. Something he wasn’t saying.
We were quiet for a while, both sitting with our thoughts.
“Crap,” I muttered, frowning as I realised something rather depressing.
“What?” Vasilios asked.
“It’s nothing. I just realised it’s my birthday in two days. I’m going to be celebrating my nineteenth birthday in prison.” See? Depressing.
“Ah, well, my condolences on that.”
“It’s fine. It’s just one birthday. There’ll be others.”
“Does that mean you plan to be out of this place come next year?” he asked curiously.
My stomach did a somersault as I realised my error. If I were imprisoned for real, then there wouldn’t be any good birthdays coming up for me, at least not in the near future. “I just meant, you know, when I finally get out of here.”
“I thought you might’ve reconsidered coming with Sven and me when we …” he trailed off just in case there were inmates in nearby cells listening. I felt like pointing out how he’d been talking pretty loudly about his escape plan when he was drunk on Sarasin’s wine yesterday.
“No. I couldn’t live like that.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “On the run. It would be no life at all.”
“But if your future involves travelling to Oreylia, then you wouldn’t be on the run. No one could come looking for you there,” he countered.
“Right, all I’d need to worry about would be avoiding the demons who wish to enslave me like they did you and Sven.”
“And the molten lava. The electrical thunderstorms and acid rain. The thieves, pickpockets, violent gangs, and depraved rapists who haunt the lower sectors. The food and water shortages. Need I go on?”
“Is it truly that hellish? Is there nothing good to be found there?” I asked.
“Why do you think I’m so adamant against returning?”
“No, I get it. I just thought, well, even in the most awful places, there’s something good, even if it’s just the hope in the minds of the people who live there. The hope for something better. I mean, look at this prison. There was a time when I thought being sent here was the worst thing to befall a person. But now I’m here, and I’m getting through it. And there’s a certain beauty to it. The thorns that hum and crackle with magic are kind of beautiful in a way, and Sarasin’s greenhouse is so full of life and wonder you’d never guess you were still inside a prison.”