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)
Andor grabs a torch from the wall beside the door and stands beside me as Lemi trots off.
“Lemi,” I call after him as his black body disappears into the shadows beyond the flame.
“He’ll be all right,” Andor says. “There’s a fortress wall around the back here. This is where we have the vines, the orchard, and apparently where the cook’s future vegetable garden will be since Steiner has taken over the current one.”
“He’s a curious fellow,” I comment.
“You can say that again,” he says. “But don’t let his youth fool you; he’s the brains of this family, of the whole syndikat, and I’d argue the monarchy as well.”
I walk toward the faint shapes of trees. I can only just make out their shadows in the dark, but as I step closer I see round fruit hanging from their limbs. I reach up and touch them gently, feeling their weight.
“Apples,” Andor says, bringing the torch closer so that I can see better. “You can’t see in the dark, can you?”
I shake my head, noting how the fruit shines in the light. “Apples were one of the few fruits the higher classes had in Lerick. I never stopped to question where they got them from. All this time there was trade between Esland and Norland.”
“They trade with our neighbors, the territory of Altus Dugrell,” Andor says. “Many of the inhabitants there worship the dragons instead of the goddesses. One of the many reasons why they split with Norland.” He pauses, seeming to think that over for a moment before he says, “I should apologize for my family this evening. They’re…suspicious of outsiders.”
I laugh. “I can relate. I don’t think your father would have gotten very far in life if he wasn’t.” I give him a sidelong glance. His high cheekbones look carved from stone in the shadowed light. “Besides, I am still your prisoner. I should be grateful that I’m treated as fairly as I have been.”
“Should be grateful?” he asks with a quirk of his brow.
I give him a quick smile. “I would much rather go back home,” I say plainly, hoping that perhaps he’ll take pity on me and call the whole thing off.
He swallows, the sound audible above the faint chirps of nearby crickets. “You know you can’t leave. I can’t let you go.”
“You almost seem regretful,” I comment, taking my fingers away from the apple.
He reaches over and plucks it off the tree, placing it in my hands. “I’m not a man without regrets,” he says.
“Like pulling a knife on your uncle.” I turn the fruit over in my hands.
His smile is as sharp as that blade. “I only regret not killing him there and then.”
I’m unsure of how Andor fits in with his bloodline—his lenient attitude sets him apart from the Kolbeck dynasty—but every now and then I see the danger in him, the bloodlust beneath the cocky grin. I have no doubt that Andor would kill his uncle if he could.
“And I don’t want to regret bringing you here to work for us,” he goes on. “I think I—we—could give you a better life.”
I glare at him and toss the apple back into the air, making him catch it. “You know nothing of the life I had,” I tell him, walking back to the door and making a clicking noise for Lemi to return.
“But when we get your aunt,” he ventures, his footsteps sounding on gravel behind me, “then you won’t want for anything.”
I stop and face him, anger flaring inside me. “Stop acting like you’re doing me a favor. You just want to use me to get a leg up on the other houses.”
“Then let me use you and it will be easier,” he says, a pleading tone to his command. “For both of us. For all of us. There are more things at stake here than just you and me.”
I hate the idea of being used, a trait passed down through my blood. My parents were very vocal about how the Soffers used the citizens as pawns in their game of religious manipulation.
“Lemi,” I call out, ignoring Andor. “Come here.”
Finally Lemi appears, walking slowly through the rows of orchard trees. He stops and puts his head up, sniffing the air.
“It’s going to rain,” Andor says, heading for the door. “We better get inside.”
My heart leaps. “Wait? Rain? Here and now?”
He pauses and stares at me, his brows coming together. “Yes?”
“Please,” I tell him, unable to keep the whine out of my voice. “Let me see it. Let me experience it. I don’t want to go in yet.”
“Experience rain?” he says, looking up at the clouds. “You’ve never…?”
I shake my head. “I saw acid rain once in the Midlands and took shelter just in time. That was it. I’ve never experienced real rain, not the pure water that falls from the sky.”