Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
And yet…
I am jealous of this male she asks about. This R’jaal. I hate the sound of his name, and the worry on her face as she inquired about him. He must be her suitor.
R’jaal.
This must be the other male that is with the female. The one that resonated and is being kept hidden by Kin’far the Exile and Set’nef the Wanderer somewhere in the deeper tunnels. Will she be upset that he resonated to another? I do not like the thought of her being in pain, but I hate the savage satisfaction that burns in my belly when I think that she did not resonate to him. That this feeling of anticipation I feel is almost certainly going to be us.
I head quickly through the city, back to my father’s dwelling. I keep my head down and hurry past the wall, not wanting to tempt it with slow steps. I know that I will resonate to Tia the Stranger and yet…just in case. I quickly make it back to my father’s home and nod at his guards. “Where is he?”
“He is speaking in private with So’ran the Bitter.”
Again. Always the same thing with that one. He has yet to realize my father will never change his mind. “I will wait.”
I suspect it won’t take long. I seat myself in the mushroom gardens, amongst the colorful rocks spread between the stems, and think about Tia the Stranger. Tia with her cloud of hair and her soft touches. Already I want to go back to her side and just listen to her talk in that strange language of hers. Is it possible to crave someone you have just met? Because that is what this feels like—a craving. A hunger.
I am mentally lost, dreaming of the way Tia said my name as she held my hand to her chest, when So’ran the Bitter storms out of my father’s dwelling. He slams the doors behind him, glares at me in silent betrayal, and then stomps his way back toward the rest of the village. The sight of his anger makes me sad. It has been a long time since he and I were friends, but I must side with my father. He does what he thinks is best for our people.
Then I think of Tia, and how she has not been placed with the other females, behind the high wall that keeps them separated and safe. Is she going to get sick from being amongst us? Is it dangerous for her to keep her near me and the other males? And if not…
It goes against everything my father has decreed for our people. It makes me uneasy. Secrets on top of secrets are not the way to rule a people. When I am chief, it will be different. I have always said this to myself, and yet…I am weak. I did not free Tia, even though it is the right thing to do.
I am selfish enough to wait, to see if I resonate to her or if this feeling is nothing.
And I am doubly selfish, because I am not going to demand that my father wall her away with the other females.
After So’ran leaves, I get to my feet and enter my father’s chambers. He is no longer sitting in his chieftain’s chair, but rests at a table in his personal chambers, a goblet of fruited water at his hand. His face is strained and tired, and for a moment he looks far too old for the turns he has lived. I clear my throat to let him know I have arrived.
He glances over at me. “Is it done?”
A strange question. “I have visited Tia the Stranger. She was given no amenities, Father—”
He waves an irritated hand at my words. “Is it done? Did you resonate?”
I draw up short, irritated that he does not care about Tia’s comfort, only that I might breed a child upon her. “We have not resonated, no.”
Bel’eb the Mighty sighs heavily, as if the weight of the entire mountain is upon his shoulders. “I should have known. You have always been a disappointment to me. Why should it be any different now?”
I ignore his bitter words. “I feel different around her. I think perhaps, given time, we might resonate.”
“Mm.” Father’s hummed response does not indicate confidence.
“I will visit her again tonight,” I say. “Bring her more food.” Talk to her again. Gaze into her eyes. Hope that she smiles.
“Mm.”
His lack of enthusiasm is bothering me. This is his plan. “Would you prefer I journey to consult the oracle? Seek her advice?”
“Pah. The oracle speaks nonsense.” He shakes his head and drains his goblet, and then pours himself more drink. The strong smell of sweet fruit and fermented mushrooms drifts through the air and I frown. My father has been drinking too much lately. He does it when he feels troubled by the issues in the village. I suppose tonight it is because of Tia the Stranger, but knowing that does not ease my concern. My father must keep his wits sharp if he is to rule us.