Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 162269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 541(@300wpm)
She was racing down the steps.
She did this crying, “Elena!”
“Who is that?” I whispered to Mars, watching as the woman made the bottom, dropped her skirts and dashed to Elena.
I also noted Cass’s man, Ian following her far more sedately.
“That is Domitia,” Mars murmured.
“King Gallienus’s last wife?” I asked.
“Mm,” Mars hummed his affirmative, his gaze closely watching the women across the room.
Thus, I did so too.
Elena broke the embrace Domitia threw herself into but only did so holding the woman’s hands out to their sides and demanding, “What are you wearing?”
Domitia’s face fell. “Do you hate it?”
“I adore it,” Elena replied.
Domitia’s expression brightened so much, her dress stopped blinding me and her smile took over.
She then tossed a look over her shoulder at Ian, demanding, “See? Elena doesn’t think it’s too loud.”
“I don’t either,” Ian drawled in reply. “Now that it’s burned my retinas into dysfunction.”
“Ian,” Elena whispered in stunned surprise.
“You’re obnoxious,” Domitia accused over Elena’s whisper.
Elena blinked and Cass did not hide his shock at her words, though I got the impression it was not about her rudeness, but her courage in uttering them.
“I’m honest,” Ian returned. “You’d be prettier in pink.”
She let go of Elena and rounded on Ian fully.
“I don’t like pink.”
“Then red.”
“Red is too bold.”
“Then anything that isn’t the color of fruit,” he returned.
“There are pink fruits,” she retorted.
“Name one,” he challenged.
“Berries!” she snapped.
“Berries are sweet and succulent and very good to eat. Citrus is tart and acid and not you,” Ian fired back.
Oh my.
At that, Domitia herself turned very pink, clashing with her gown.
She then whirled on Elena. “He’s been a scoundrel the entire time you’ve been away.”
“She did not think me thus when I took her shopping for that bloody material she’s drowning in, in the now,” Ian told Cassius.
“You do know, we just survived two battles, one of which we were outnumbered, ten to one,” Cassius reminded his friend.
“And I can say with all honesty, deep respect, and equal grief at all I know was lost that for many reasons, I would have rather been there with you than here…shopping,” Ian retorted.
“I might laugh,” I muttered out the side of my mouth to Mars.
“Don’t,” Mars ordered. “I’m uncertain who’s going to blow first, Cass or Ian, but it would be very bad if you were in that firing line, for I would not like it.”
That cured my humor instantly.
“Perhaps we can receive a report?” Cassius suggested drily.
“I’d be delighted,” Ian replied.
“Are these your friends?” Domitia asked, eyeing the rest of us, now that the drama was done, appearing timid.
I also noted at this juncture, Dax Lahn and his Circe were coming into the room from a hallway off to our right.
Elena introduced us to Domitia. She did it warmly, but she did it swiftly.
She then held her hand so as not to indicate Domitia was dismissed when she turned to Ian and said, “Where should we talk?”
“Wouldn’t you like refreshments after your ride?” Domitia asked.
Elena looked down at her. “If you could see to that, we’d be very grateful.”
“It’d be my honor,” she replied, before she grinned at Elena, bobbed a shy curtsy to Mars and me, Farah and True, Frey and Finnie, then she floated on a waft of tangerine silk and ruffles toward a hallway off to the left.
“The Great Hall has the seating,” Ian said.
“Let’s go,” Cass called to Elena, reaching out to her with a hand.
She moved to him and took it, and we all walked into the Great Hall, which was truly a delight with silver velvet couches, low round pots tufted with tight-packed snowy carnations on conveniently placed tables, and thick, midnight-blue rugs covering the floors.
And I realized upon entering it, I had a rather dire, fixed idea of what the Citadel was like. So much so, it colored my memories of the Bay, which I remembered as nothing but cold and austere.
Mars grunted when he moved into the room.
“All right?” I asked him.
“Some time ago, Cass and I spoke of miracles,” he answered. “It would seem Elena has a variety of magicks at her disposal, for I see she has wrought some.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This room, under Gallienus, was designed to intimidate and call notice to him, forcing courtiers to compete for his attention. So far, mia bellezza, with some flowers, rugs and sofas, Elena has swept this place clean of him and the rule of his forebears in very little time. Thus, a miracle.”
“These are not miracles, Mars,” I educated him.
As he was seating me on a couch, he raised his brows in question.
“I learned from Mercy before she passed, the power of females takes many forms.”
He grunted again as he sat beside me, slouched down in his seat, stretched out his long legs, crossed his booted ankles, and dropped into me, draping an arm around the back of the couch behind me.