Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
17
BRAM
I hear her coming before I see her. I’d like to say the tread of Grace’s feet is familiar to me already, but the truth is that no one else would bother to seek me out. I barely have a chance to look up when she charges into my office.
Grace huffs out a breath. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I’ve been here the whole time.”
She’s changed since leaving my bedroom this morning. Now she wears a pair of breeches that don’t quite fit properly under a long tunic. Her long dark hair is free around her shoulders, and she should look young and ridiculous in her ill-fitting clothes. But I don’t think Grace has ever looked young or ridiculous in her entire life. Not even when she was small and fundamentally helpless. The thought of her as a child leads to the thought of what her children might look like, which brings me a strange sort of sadness.
I want children. I don’t know if I want them for the right reasons, but surely it isn’t a bad thing to desire a family again. I know new family won’t replace the siblings and father I lost, but maybe having someone to care for would leave me feeling less unmoored.
“This is fucking ridiculous, Bram. This has to end.” Grace slams the door behind her. Her energy is a riot of red and the violet of resolve.
“It would help if I knew what you were angry about.”
She paces from one side of my office to the other, her long strides eating up the distance, her fury almost wondrous to behold. “You are a laughingstock of a ruler.”
That brings me up short. Of all the things I expected her to rage over, my abilities as a leader did not make the list. “Excuse me?”
“Your people respect you so little that they are actively undermining you right to my face. They know what I’m here for, and they don’t care. They’re not afraid that I’ll come to you with the information, because they know you won’t do anything about it.”
Ah. “I see you’ve met one of the nobles. Who finally approached you?”
She pivots slowly to face me. The lack of momentum should make her less fearsome, but instead she feels like a predator that has narrowed their attention on me. “You knew this would happen?” she finally says.
“I knew it was a distinct possibility.” I can’t imagine the nobles have much faith in my ability to complete my goals, but most of them aren’t complete fools. They know what’s at stake if I succeed. It was only a matter time before one of them approached her. There are few foolish enough to threaten her, and none of those people are currently in residence. I would like to pretend it’s me—or the curse—they fear, but the truth is that no one wants to cross Azazel. He’s proven himself to be a fearsome warrior, and he’s intensely protective of his humans. Years ago, one of the incubi violated his hospitality and harmed one of his humans. He made such an example of her that I suspect any of us who saw the results have that scene imprinted in our nightmares.
And he ensured that all of us saw.
Grace is still looking at me like I have sprouted an additional set of horns. “And you’re . . . okay with this?”
Her frustration is so thick, I can almost feel the friction of it against my skin. “Of course I’m not okay with it. They obviously upset you, and that’s not something I want for you ever.”
“Upset me.” She says the words with absolutely no inflection. “Is that what you think this is?”
“I can see that it is.” I wave my hand to encompass her energy, which is swirling about the room and filling the space.
I realize I made a mistake the second she goes perfectly still. “Your people are actively plotting against you. Do you know what they offered me? An escape from this place. I might not have taken them up on it this time, but enough rejections and they’re going to realize that I won’t ever. What happens then, Bram? I’ll tell you what happens. They escalate. I don’t know what circumstances would be enough for them to believe there’s a real chance you might convince me to have a child, but they won’t allow it. Not when their goals are so close at hand. And all you have to say is that you don’t want me upset?”
I know better than to let my anger slip its leash. And yet her derision pricks at me. “What do you want me to do?”
“Literally anything!”
Tension coils through me, but I force myself to sit back slowly instead of surging to my feet. “There’s nothing to be done. They believe I’m cursed, and so they won’t listen to me. Until I can prove otherwise, we’re in a holding pattern.”