Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Litha, I learned from my maids, is a celebration lasting from dusk to dawn the night before summer solstice. Bonfires are lit all around the castle to honor the sun and bring in the longest day of the year. Smaller celebrations like this happen in the human realm, but I never bothered about them or understood why the masses would celebrate blessings in a world that seems to bless so few. But under the cool glow of the crescent moon, with food and wine aplenty and so much music and laughter, I can almost understand the need for such a spectacle of gratitude.
Slowly I descend the castle steps and venture onto the lawn. The fires are massive, with heat rolling off them. Just as a fine sweat breaks out on my brow, a server thrusts a cold glass of wine into my hand and walks away before I can decline.
“You came,” Sebastian says softly behind me.
Tensing, I turn to him, all too aware of the hurt I caused him earlier. “I can go back to my rooms if you want.”
“I’m pretty sure my problem lies in the fact that I don’t want that at all.” He looks me over slowly. “Though it seems you’re bent on torturing me with your beauty.” There’s no bite to the words, and he’s smiling when he meets my eyes again. “I’m glad you came.”
“I’m glad you’re glad.” I look him over and swallow. He’s not the only one feeling tortured. His white hair is swept back, tied at the base of his neck, and his golden tunic makes his shoulders look impossibly broad. My gaze dips for a beat, but I don’t dare let myself linger on the sight of his powerful thighs in his leather pants.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I had no right to—”
“No. I’m sorry,” I say. And it’s true. It might not change how I feel or what I must do, but I hate hurting him. Hate knowing that what I’m doing now will hurt him more. “I know I came here with prejudices, and I see now how unfair they were. I’m realizing that Faerie isn’t exactly what I thought it was.”
He searches my face. “Is that a good thing?”
“Mostly.” I try to find the words to explain the shift in my thoughts, and I’m not sure how. “I have trouble trusting people here, but trust never came easily for me back home either. Faerie might have its own problems, but the fae are no more cruel and selfish than humans.”
He studies my face, as if he might find all my lies and secrets written there. “And what does that mean for us?”
I step closer to him. When I take his hand, I feel every bit the traitor I am. “It means, I hope you won’t give up on me yet.”
His eyes widen and his nostrils flare. “I don’t know how to give up on you, Abriella.”
I’m too much of a coward to hold that beautiful gaze, so I drop his hand and look down at my wine. “This is Litha, then?” I ask, if only to fill the silence.
“It is. Though as you noticed, we’ll use any excuse to dance and drink wine to excess.”
“Can I ask why a celebration of the day is held at night?”
He scans the crowd, the fires, the musicians. “Because you can’t have the longest day of the year without the shortest night. And because we honor the sun by bringing the fires into the night. They’re lit before the sun sets and will burn until she rises, symbolically lighting even the short hours of darkness.”
“And what do the wine and dancing symbolize?”
“Our zest for life.” He grins, his gaze dropping to the untouched wine in my hand. “Is it bad?”
“I haven’t tried it.” I consider it a moment. The bubbles cling to the sides of the glass and sparkle in the firelight. “Doesn’t faerie wine make mortals lose their inhibitions?”
He laughs. “Much like mortal wine, that depends entirely on how much of it you drink.” He reaches for my glass and our fingers brush as he takes it. The single touch sends me back to my chambers, his hand on my waist, his mouth pressed to mine, and tingles race down my spine. He swirls the contents and sniffs it before handing it back to me. “It’s safe if you’d like to try it.”
It’s my turn to sniff the golden liquid. It smells like sun-ripened cherries. I hold Sebastian’s gaze as I bring it to my lips. The sweetness and flavor explode on my tongue, and warmth immediately fills my chest. I hum appreciatively and drain half the glass. “Wow. It’s so good I want to swim in it.”
Sebastian chuckles. “Summer solstice wine is my favorite too.”
We watch the fires and the guests as I finish the rest of the glass. Worried that my curiosity will seem suspicious, I don’t let myself ask about the library yet. Spending time with Sebastian is no hardship, and surprisingly, no one bothers us. Not even when the music turns slow and couples start dancing all around the lawn.