Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
“History lessons are far past, Cass, but if memory serves, it’s been over four hundred years,” Hadrian answered.
The boy returned with his whiskey, Cassius took it, lifted it to his lips, but before he threw it back, he remarked, “I’m already making history, marrying a Nadirii. That said, I’m beginning to fancy lengthening my section in the Go’Doan history books.”
Then he tossed back the entirety of his drink. That accomplished, he instantly put his bottom lip to his teeth and whistled low.
The boy, who was rushing away, darted back.
Cass handed the glass to him. “Another.”
“Sì, signore. Subito.”
Cassius waited until his men had their drinks, and he had his own refreshed, before he moved with purpose, turning his back on his father and striding to a corner of the tent.
His men came with him.
“Even if you ignore her, she is still here,” Severus noted as they all positioned, his men fanning out around Cassius, their backs to the tent, Cass’s back to the corner.
“I’m well aware of that, Rus,” Cassius replied.
Hadrian was studying him.
Cass knew what he saw.
And as was often with Ian, he didn’t hesitate to share anything, including the fact he read Cassius well.
“You might never have seen her, but she’s Nadirii. You had to know she’d be much different than Liv,” he said carefully.
“I’m also well aware that I’ll be bound in wedlock to a woman who is not my wife, Ian,” Cassius ground out before throwing back a healthy dose of his drink, which was, owing to the astuteness of Mars’s servants, twice the amount as his first one.
“Can we now talk about—?” Mac started.
“No,” Severus, Hadrian and Antonius said at the same time.
“Right,” Macrinus muttered, grinning into his glass of wine at his lips.
With a flurry of self-importance, his father joined their group, rounding his men to come to stand at Cassius’s side.
“What are you doing standing here?” he demanded to know.
“Avoiding you,” Cass told him.
Gallienus’s eyes narrowed before he declared, “We must speak.”
Cass lifted his brows when his father said no more.
“I’m sorry, are you asking my permission?” he inquired and watched his father’s face start to get red as he went on, “For if this is so, please wait for me to find a scribe. This needs recorded.”
Gallienus leaned toward him and bit out, “You can’t marry that cunt.”
Cassius felt his jaw set hard and his spine snap tight.
“That display,” his father continued, flinging an arm to the back of the tent, indicating the field beyond, “was obscene.”
It was far from obscene.
It was the most remarkable display of horsemanship and military drilling Cassius had ever witnessed.
“I quite liked the starbursts in the sky,” Otho muttered.
“And the firm asses in the saddles,” Mac added.
Gallienus ignored them. “This whole thing is beyond preposterous. It cannot be borne. And thus, we’re leaving. Tomorrow. At sunrise. You will not wed that flagrant tart. I’ve seen better costumes on whores paid to play a role in order to stiffen a cock. It’s coming quite clear as each night fades with no further quakes, this was all but a ruse for Ophelia to plant another Nadirii witch on Airenzian soil to cause strife and mayhem amongst my subjects. And further, by maneuvering these ludicrous alliances through marriage, she thinks to control all realms with the threat of the Beast rising and the use of wet cunt. A savvy ploy, but one destined to fail as it will fail tomorrow morning when we leave.”
Cassius turned from his father when he heard Ha-Lah’s voice saying, “Even a Nadirii could not cause those tremors.”
Cass looked to the lovely Mar-el queen then up to Aramus, who was standing close to her back.
Aramus, as had been made clear these past days, was not at his most jovial in the presence of Cassius’s father.
Though, not many were.
“She could if she had thousands of other witches with her which,” Gallienus jerked his head to the back of the tent, “obviously, she does.”
“To produce that magic, a quake felt in all realms, all the way to the shores of Mar-el, they’d need every witch in Triton, and after such a spell was cast, they’d be drained. They couldn’t produce another for months, if not years,” Ha-Lah calmly replied. “Certainly not every fortnight.”
“You are witch so of course you’d defend them,” Gallienus spat.
“You are old and pompous and not my king. In other words, be careful how you speak to my wife, Airenzian king,” Aramus growled.
“You can’t possibly be believing this rubbish,” Gallienus returned to Aramus.
“I think the vastly more important subject we should be discussing is how Cassius’s betrothed could clearly kick his arse all the way back to Sky Bay, if she had the notion,” Mac jibed, most likely in an attempt to take the growing heat out of the discussion.
“I think it’s more interesting that he never has to concern himself with clipping his own nails. Just ask his bride, she can shear them off from thirty feet with the point of her arrow,” Otho ribbed.