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 try to bury my frustration. “And where has it gotten us? Nowhere. We haven’t advanced at all. The Dalgaards still control the trade.”
“They only control the south,” he counters dismissively.
“They’re moving into Vesland, you know that’s their plan. To control their trade and then take over the entire realm.”
“And you know that we have fail-safes to prevent that from happening. The same fail-safes that will prevent another war with Altus Dugrell.” He narrows his eyes. “Or have you forgotten your duties?”
I ignore that. “But the more suen that those Dalgaards obtain, the closer the kingdom of Sorland will get to building an invincible army,” I try to explain. “Can’t you see that’s their end goal?”
“We all know that’s their end goal,” he says, eyeing me with disdain as he takes another sip of his drink. “But that’s a goal they are decades off from achieving. You know what Sae Balek has shown me. I have seen the future. I know what the goddesses have planned for us. We continue what we’re doing, which is working for the king while keeping our own interests. You, Vidar, Steiner, Solla—you’ll all do what you must to keep our fingers in every pie possible. The rest will fall into place.”
“You’re not being proactive enough.”
My father slams down the glass, hard enough that it nearly breaks. “Not proactive enough?” he bellows. “I’m sorry we can’t all be as reckless, impulsive, and foolish as you, Andor Kolbeck. What has your so-called proactiveness gotten us over the years?” He gets to his feet and my heart starts to beat wildly. “Let’s see.” He ticks off a finger with dramatic flair as he comes around the desk. “You stole my ship on a last-minute journey to the White Islands…”
“Borrowed, actually. I was going to bring it right back.”
“Because you had heard that the volcano was going to blow.”
“Actually that was Steiner’s idea,” I cut in.
“And it did erupt and it sank my ship. You were lucky to get out of there alive. I still owe those pirates for saving you. There isn’t a damn day I don’t regret it.”
“Technically those pirates are employed by me now.”
He ticks off another finger. “Then you had the idea to go into the center of the Midlands in an attempt to find a mythical fucking dragon that doesn’t exist anymore. You lost two good men to that pointless endeavor, may they rest in peace.”
I do feel guilt over that. A lot of guilt. But I want to point out that my father is the one who assigned those men to come with me, and they weren’t exactly reliable. It was their attempt to screw me over mid-raid of a deathdrage’s nest that got them chomped in half to begin with, but of course my father refuses to believe me when I tell him what really happened there.
“And then,” he goes on, louder now, and I know what’s coming, “the day you were supposed to be married off to Princess Odelle, they caught you in bed in with her handmaiden! Do you know how badly you damaged the bond between our houses? That it’s a miracle that Anahera is even willing to talk about marrying Princess Liva to our Vidar?”
“Does Vidar know about this?” I ask, my interest suddenly piqued. After I properly fucked it up with House Haugen, I’m surprised they want anything to do with our family. I know Vidar won’t be too happy about being married off, even though that’s part and parcel of being a Kolbeck.
“It doesn’t matter what Vidar does and doesn’t know,” my father says with a dismissive wave of his hand as he half sits on the edge of his desk. The movement is stiff and makes the corners of his eyes twitch, which I know is his way of hiding pain. He sees me noticing this too, a warning coming across his brow, telling me not to remark on it, even though we both know I could help him. He’s never even let me try.
All because he’s seen me try once before.
And he’s seen me fail.
A failure heard around the world, a failure that follows me to this day, a slinking shadow of death and shame.
I brought a dog back to life, I want to tell him, but he wouldn’t believe me anyway.
But the thought of Lemi reminds me of my prisoner.
“So I take it you don’t want to hear my plan,” I say to my father, smacking my hands on my thighs as I get up. “That’s fine.”
He frowns. “What plan?”
“The one that involves the thief I have upstairs.”
He blinks. “You were serious about that?” he asks, eyes widening.
“You know I always am,” I say, my jaw flexing. Why does everyone think everything I say and do is a joke?
“You’re kidnapping people now?” He shakes his head, looking aghast.