Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
I take a seat facing the forward direction, once again looking out of place with my dirty leathers against the plush green velvet seats. Lemi stands by Gudwale on the street, looking as suspicious as a dog can look, but once I pat the seat next to me he comes bounding inside, the carriage rocking on its wheels from his weight. Gudwale wiggles his mustache as he watches Lemi sit beside me on the seat. For a moment I think he’s going to yell at me about having a dog on the upholstery, but he doesn’t.
“He’s a fine hound, my lady,” Gudwale says with a quick, kind smile before he shuts the carriage door.
Andor takes a seat across from me and the carriage starts to pull away.
“What about Toombs and the men from the ship?” I ask, craning my head out the window to watch the harbor disappear behind the buildings.
“They live in the city,” Andor says.
“Even Kirney? He seemed like your right-hand man.”
He nods. “Even Kirney. Stormglen is heavily guarded and not everyone is welcome, even my best man and the captain of my ship.”
“And yet I am?” I ask, pursing my lips as I glance at him.
He holds my gaze for a moment, then flashes me a smile. “Let’s hope.”
I frown at him, wondering what that means, until the carriage wheels bump over a large cobblestone and I’m jostled in my seat.
I turn my attention out the window, watching as the city of Menheimr rolls past. It feels like noon, at least from the way my stomach is growling, but all the shops are full of patrons, the streets bustling with carriages and pedestrians. Rows of pastel-green doves line the eaves above the streets, their feathers iridescent in the sharp sunlight. Every now and then between the shops and residences I spot a secluded courtyard surrounded by lush foliage, or a neat square with a flowing fountain at the center, populated with people lounging on green-speckled stone benches. Back in Lerick everything shuts down midday. People hide inside from the heat of the relentless sun. The fact that there are fountains here with water flowing freely—wastefully—makes my head spin.
Andor makes an amused sound and I glance at him, my eyes narrowed automatically. He’s watching me with large pupils, a smile tugging his lips.
“What?” I snap.
“Nothing,” he says after a moment, then turns his attention back out the window.
I do the same, though I can tell he’s staring at me again. I probably should act a little more blasé about everything. I feel my shell harden.
Still, the fresh scent of water, umberwoods, and blooming flowers that flows in through the carriage windows makes me breathe in deeply, and I feel as if something inside me is growing, invisible shoots sprouting from within. I’m not sure how I feel about it.
We leave the town, the buildings becoming farther apart, turning into red-timbered houses with grass growing on the roofs and large plots of fertile fields dotted with fuzzy, long-horned cows the size of horses and plump white sheep sprinkled here and there like dollops of cream. Beyond the fields thick with grazing animals, past the fruitful orchards with rows of gnarled trees bending toward one another like bowing men, and the rows of gilded wheat that wave delicately in the breeze are forest-covered slopes that reach up and up, interspersed by the occasional waterfall. I’ve never seen a waterfall before, though I’ve heard of them, and to see the water flowing so freely, so powerfully, stirs up something deep inside me.
I don’t want to be here. And yet…
I stare out the window in wonder, deciding it’s not worth the effort to keep pretending that none of this is impressing me.
The road becomes rougher with muddy patches as the wheels churn in the ruts, and then I remember the last time I was in a carriage.
It was the only time I was in a carriage.
Moments after my mother sailed off for the Midlands.
I was ripped away from my aunt, Ellestra, by the Black Guard. I remember the large metal gauntlets digging painfully into my shoulders, the way my aunt screamed as she tried to hang on to me. I was dragged to a waiting carriage and they threw me inside, locking the door. I couldn’t escape and through the windows I saw the ship that had my mother disappearing into the night, heading toward her fate, her doom. I watched as the carriage pulled away from the only place I’d ever known and along a dark road into a long night that would culminate with my arrival at the convent.
The place where I ceased to have a name.
Where I ceased to have a voice.
Where I swore I would have my vengeance.
And yet I thought I had my vengeance. I thought that stealing the precious eggs they revere so much and working for House Dalgaard was somehow sticking a dagger into the sides of the Soffers. But it hasn’t been more than a pinprick. I’ve barely made a dent.