Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
To the side of the room, her cousin Jasper, pale as death, (because, well …) was trying to excuse himself from a conversation with Ravenna’s husband, Reginald. A man who, once he got you cornered, never ran out of things to talk about.
Pandora’s gaze swept around the rest of the crowd, trying to find anything out of place enough for her to need to step in.
There was Uncle Reginald, decked out in a full-on 1850s military uniform – all red material, gold buttons, and gilded shoulder fringe.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was speaking animatedly to Vlad, whose beak was moving as well, as he answered whatever questions Reginald was asking him.
She supposed she should at least be thankful that Reginald hadn’t worn his shakos cap, complete with its foot-and-a-half-tall feather on top.
Ravenna clapped loudly, making most conversations halt.
“They’re here! The happy couple is here!” Ravenna said with such gusto that Pandora tried not to cringe.
Victor’s hand gave hers another squeeze as Ophelia and Lucian moved out of the crowd, making their way over toward Pandora and Victor.
“Mum, Dad, this is Victor,” Pandora said as soon as they were close. “Victor, this is my mum and dad.”
“Mrs. Von Ashmore,” Victor said, using his free hand to reach for Ophelia’s hand, since Pandora was clinging to his other one. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” he said as her mother’s keen gaze moved over him to land on their hands.
Pandora panicked, thinking she was picking up on the fact that they clearly weren’t doing it or anything. Instead, Ophelia cleared her throat and bulged her eyes slightly making Pandora look down and realize she was squeezing Victor’s hand so hard that it had turned white.
“Yes, Victor,” Ophelia said as soon as Pandora had eased her hold on Victor’s hand. “We are glad to make your acquaintance. Even if we have just recently learned about you,” she said.
“Mr. Von Ashmore,” Victor said, giving Pandora’s father a firm shake, keeping eye contact. Which Pandora knew couldn’t have been easy because her father was, arguably, the scariest man in any room.
“Victor,” Lucian said, his gaze moving over his daughter’s fiancé.
“Is that a ring I see?” Ravenna rushed up beside Ophelia, ramming into her in the process and sending Ophelia crashing into her husband.
“Oh, yes,” Pandora said, about to lift her hand. Ravenna was faster, grabbing Pandora’s hand and yanking it hard enough to make her stumble forward.
“Oh, this is a beaut,” Ravenna said, pulling the ring up close. Then, and Pandora couldn’t make this up, producing one of those little jewelry magnifying glasses out of some hidden pocket to inspect the ring more closely. “Yes, very nice. You know, I’ve always said you can judge a man by how fine his taste in jewelry is. The vam … man,” Ravenna caught herself, “I dated before my dear Reginald didn’t know the difference between an emerald and a ruby. Clearly, that was a courtship due to fail. But you, my dear,” she said, looking from Pandora to Victor. “You have found a keeper. Reginald!” Her shout made Victor, unaccustomed to her loudness, jerk. “Get over here and meet Pandora’s fiancé.”
Reginald untangled himself from his conversation with the raven, shuffled over, then gave Victor a hearty handshake. “Nice to meet you, old boy,” he said, trying to straighten himself up to full height, despite being a solid six inches shorter than Victor.
“You too, sir,” Victor said, perfect manners on display. “Is that a real sword?”
“This?” Reginald asked, reaching for it and then brandishing it with wild abandon, making everyone take a step back from him. “It sure is, my boy. I took this thing off of the bod—”
“Hey!” Pandora cut in, voice high and tinny. “Is that Dante?” She looked across the room, desperate to get Victor away from Reginald, who’d just been about to tell the story of roaming the fields of battle, looking for some easy necks to sip from, when he came upon the uniform he was currently wearing and decided he needed it for his own collection.
On any given day, Reginald could be wearing the cloak of some forgotten king, a Roman toga, or, once, a full-on hippie costume straight out of sixties California. And with each of those outfits, there was the story of the poor human who’d lost their life.
As Pandora physically pulled Victor away from that crowd, she could hear Ravenna whisper-yelling at her husband.
“He’s a mortal, remember? You can’t go around talking about killing his kind.”
“Dante,” Pandora said, a desperate edge slipping into her voice as they approached her brother, dodging another dozen or so family members in the process.
“Going well?” he asked with a little smirk. “Victor, nice to meet you.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?” Pandora asked, glancing around the room to see one of her cousins pour something thick and viscous into a glass.