Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
“Take care, Fire Girl,” the goblin says, then bows his head and disappears.
I frown at the vacant spot the goblin occupied seconds before. “Why do they work for you?”
“Excuse me?”
“The goblins—it seems that every powerful faerie has at least one at their beck and call, but they have this power that you need. Why do they serve you?”
The russet-eyed male gives me a crooked grin, as if this question somehow makes me more interesting. “Goblins take alliances with different courts for their own purposes, but usually for access to information, as their collective knowledge is the source of their power.”
“Collective knowledge?”
He lifts his chin. “Indeed. What one goblin knows, soon all goblins will know. Never be foolish enough to believe a goblin who does your bidding is serving you. They play a bigger role in the politics of this realm than most realize. They always have their own motives and rarely share them.”
His explanation makes sense to me. Bakken may have lived in my aunt’s house as her servant, but I never had the impression that she truly ruled over him.
Nodding, I take in the room—the large four-poster bed piled with layers of linens that looks so soft my tired body sways toward it, the windows that overlook a mountainous landscape as lovely as the gardens at the Golden Palace and the lush green valleys beyond.
This seemed like the best choice when faced with returning to the Golden Palace or trying to find Finn, but now that I’m alone with this strange male, I’m questioning my judgment.
“Where are we?” I ask.
The russet-eyed faerie folds his arms and cocks his head to the side. “We’re in my home.”
My gaze darts to the bed again. If he thinks—
“Settle down, Princess. I don’t take unwilling females to my bed. And even if you were willing . . .” With a wrinkled nose and a repulsed little shudder, he gives me a once-over and shakes his head. “I don’t care for bed partners who smell like the dung pile my father forced me to shovel as a child.”
I gasp. Rude.
He chuckles. “I speak the truth. You have . . . an odor, likely from last night’s sleeping arrangements, but nonetheless you look like you haven’t bathed in a fortnight. Forgive me for not finding you tempting.”
He’s maddening. “I don’t want to tempt you. I just want to . . .” What do I want? Nothing. I want nothing but to escape this nightmare. Right now, the only thing that appeals to me is sleep.
“Then sleep,” he says, waving to the bed. “But perhaps a bath first? I’ll call your handmaid.” He turns to the door.
“Wait.”
Pausing, he arches a brow.
“Who are you?”
His slow smile stretches across his face and makes his eyes light up. “I am Mishamon Nico Frendilla, but you may call me Misha.” He bows at the waist. “Pleasure to officially meet you, Abriella.”
Misha. Pretha’s brother. That’s why he is so familiar to me. He resembles his sister. “No.” I fold my arms. “You’ll have to take me somewhere else. I do not need to involve myself with another prince of another faerie court. No.”
His eyes go wide. “Prince? Milady, I am king. And with all due respect, where do you think you can go? You want some time to gather your thoughts and figure out how you feel without Prince Ronan trying to influence you. I’m offering you that time.”
“Get out of my head,” I growl. Not only do I not want to involve myself with more fae royalty, the last thing I need is to take shelter where even my thoughts aren’t private.
Misha sighs. “Like I said, Ronan can’t come here without my permission—not without starting an ugly conflict.”
“You can go into the Court of the Sun, open portals, and steal away the queen’s prisoners, but I’m to believe that Sebastian coming to retrieve me would be considered an act of war?”
“Trust me, the queen would love to seek retribution for all I’ve taken from her, but she can’t. Not without exposing herself to the entire realm as the slave-keeping, child-stealing, power-hungry bitch that she is.”
“But Sebastian—”
“Ronan’s power is tenuous at best, in either court,” Misha says. “He can’t risk losing the precious followers he has by sending soldiers to this mountain to claim a girl.”
“And Finn?”
He shrugs. “Finn doesn’t know you’re here.”
“And how do I know you aren’t in alliance with him in exchange for access to me?”
“And why does he need access to you? What do you have to offer?”
I flinch. Too true. Of course. Why would they risk anything for me? I no longer have what they want. “Perhaps you’ll sell me to the golden queen? Or maybe you’re looking for information. I doubt you’re doing this because you make a habit of helping random humans.”
He looks me over again. There’s no interest in his perusal, only curiosity. “I don’t help random humans, but you, Abriella, are neither random nor human.”