Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
I don’t know why her praise gives me such a warm feeling inside but I try to ignore it and act gruff.
“Is all my training going to be such fucking agony, my Lady?” I ask sarcastically.
“Possibly.” There’s a wicked twinkle in her glowing red eyes. “Come—let’s get dressed and talk about it.”
She gives me a new set of clothes—breeches and a linen shirt that are both a bit too tight and promises to get me something else later…
“But for now, these will do.”
She allows me to dress her, which is now apparently one of my duties—not that I’m fucking complaining. I help her into a deep purple corset which pushes her full breasts up and out and a new pair of lace panties and some delicate stockings with garters that attach to the corset. The gown she wears is made of black and purple silk and it drapes lovingly over her full curves. Last, I kneel to slip some dainty slippers on her small feet.
I suppose it should make me feel like a servant—which in fact, I am—but I don’t mind. In fact, I find that I love being of service to her. She’s so beautiful and powerful and I enjoy being able to touch her soft skin without fearing I might burn her. Dressing her is a privilege, though I’m sure I wouldn’t feel like that with anyone else.
When we’re both dressed, Sylvanna leads me down the spiral staircase to the level where her kitchen and dining area are located. There are windows that show the outer world, still bathed in night though I think it seems a bit brighter than earlier. Maybe there is a subtle difference between the “day” and “night” here and I’m just now starting to pick up on it?
There’s a pot of porridge already on the stove and a jug of cream and a glass jar of honey on the wooden table. Everything is immaculately clean and the warm smell of cinnamon hangs in the air.
“And your invisible servants did all this?” I ask as I sit at the table and look around.
“Of course.” Sylvanna nods as she dishes up a large bowl of the porridge and places it in front of me. “The power I build every night goes into the tower’s reservoir and keeps things running for me.”
“What if you have to leave for a while? Leave the tower, I mean?” I ask curiously.
She shrugs.
“Things eventually run down but they start right up again when I return.”
“So you have left in the past?” I ask.
“I lived in the City of Night for a while.” For some reason she won’t meet my eyes and I sense that something is bothering her. I wish I had a fucking jewel like the one she wears that lets her look into my thoughts. I want to know more about her.
“Where did you live? In the palace?” I ask. “And who did you live with?”
She shakes her head, still not meeting my eyes.
“It doesn’t matter. That was three years ago. Now I’m content to stay in my tower.”
“But we have to go back to the city to get The Heart of the Eclipse,” I point out.
“And we will,” she says lightly. “But not until your training is finished. For now, eat your breakfast.”
I dig into my porridge, but this isn’t over. I want to know more about my new Mistress and why she won’t tell me about her past. She knows a lot of mine already, thanks to that fucking Jewel of Knowing. I’ll have to keep my eyes and ears open to find out more of hers.
After breakfast, she takes me on a tour of her garden and the area surrounding the tower. I get to see the special bees that make her Binding honey and the flowers they feed on—deep purple blooms that are almost black. They fill the air with a heavy, sweet scent. The bees themselves glow in the dusk-like gloom, little spots of light buzzing here and there.
I get to visit my horse, too. Destrider looks perfectly happy, munching hay. It’s clear he’s been groomed and his tack has all been cleaned and the metal bits shined. Obviously he’s being well taken care of by the invisible forces that Sylvanna keeps going with her magic.
I wonder about the magic in me—if it truly is magic, as she claims. All my life I’ve been taught to believe I was God-touched and filled with the Holy Fire for a reason. But now I wonder if maybe I’m like Sylvanna—just someone who somehow inherited my powers. My parents were normal, as far as I know, but there were rumors that my grandmother was put to death for being a witch. Could the Celestial Fire come from her? Or is it from another source?
When I ask Sylvanna about it, she looks thoughtful.