Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59723 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“I gave him the gold.” He says it simply, like the clasp has always been, and will always be, non-negotiable. He removes the buckle on his black cloak and fuses the clasp there.
“Not going to lie,” I murmur. “I was expecting you’d give it back to me.”
“Expecting?”
“Hoping.”
“You lost it.”
I look up from the exquisite silver design to his chastising headshake. “Did you not see how hard I tried to win it back?” I fold my arms, and then frown. “I couldn’t distract you!”
“I was distracted. I just happened to be more determined.”
“To beat me?”
“To see how far you’d go to get it back.”
“I stood on my horse! On one leg! What more do you want from me?”
An answer forms in the depths of his eyes, flickering briefly to the surface before he reins it in.
I tell myself I’m here because of duty—because someone has to keep this stubborn king alive. But every time he looks at me with that guarded intensity . . .
He moves back.
I snatch his hands and crush them between mine, so tight I feel his pulse jump. “I won’t lose it again.”
He frees his hands, and his words sound like they’re ripped out of him, raspy in his throat. “Take off your cloak.”
I obey quickly; he hesitates, just for a moment, then takes his beautiful black cloak off and throws it around my shoulders. The clasp is a gentle weight at my chest, and I press my palm against it.
“You made the right choice.”
“I don’t know about that.”
I climb out onto the bank and he rows back towards King’s Island. My gaze follows him for a few moments before it sweeps along the canal to the bank on the other side. My breath hitches. There, in her riding gear, Veronica stands among long grasses, watching me.
She speaks briefly to the aklos behind her, then uses her inner power to leap over the canal.
“I saw,” she says.
My stomach jumps. “Saw what?”
“The black knight. He’s the king.”
I laugh but it sounds awkward to my ears.
“Who was behind the screen? No, wait. Why didn’t he choose to play on my team?”
“Maybe he thought too close, and you’d figure it out?”
“I’d have been a better pick over that aklo.”
I grimace for her. “Does it . . . bother you?”
“Does what bother me?”
“What you saw.” Confusion creases her brow. I press on. “It bothered me, watching him flirt with that aklo.”
“Aklo?” She laughs softly with surprise and looks at me. “Flirting with an aklo doesn’t bother me.”
I stop, bewildered. “He’s your husband.”
“Only on paper. If inks fade and paper burns, no marriage is left.”
I stop walking and stare at her.
She tugs me to keep moving. Numbly, I fall into step beside her.
“I can’t believe you’d be fine with—”
“We are fine with this. I’ll quietly take care of my own happiness. And I hope he takes care of his.”
My voice falls to a secret hush. “Have you taken care of your own happiness?”
“Not yet. But when I do, she will be the one to get my lovelight.”
My gaze shoots to hers.
“You see? I won’t be upset if he flirts or falls for an aklo. But Cael,” concern touches her eyes, and she stares deep into mine. She looks away with a shake of her head, frowning. “Never mind.” She smiles up at me with sudden jubilance. “You and Nicostratus were laughing together after the game. You two are sweet.”
“Fate threw us together as children—I guess it’s thrown us together again.”
Veronica lets out a whooshing sigh and laughs. “So happy to hear that. And you’re friendly with Constantinos. Which is important. They’re brothers after all, you should all get on. Yes. Yes, it’s all good.”
“Veronica . . .”
“Let’s head that way.” She pivots towards the conservatory, but we’re stopped by her own grim-faced aklos before we enter.
“Urgent correspondence from Hinsard.”
Veronica takes the extended letter. Once the aklos bow out of sight, she opens it and sags against me with a gasp.
I wrap an arm around her.
She shakes her head and I help her to a bench under a tree. With trembling hands, she rereads the letter. “The general at the southern border has died. Forty thousand of father’s army have moved there until a new general arrives.”
“So many?”
“The treaties between border kingdoms and ours are fragile. With fractured leadership the army will be in disarray—weakness the Iskaldir army might take advantage of. Father’s right to support. It’ll keep the peace.”
“That’s good then, isn’t it?”
Veronica sets the letter on the table. “The appointment of a general has to be made in person by the king. The high duke will use this to force Constantinos and Nicostratus south.”
I tense.
“Too much is at stake for him to get rid of them before peace is secured—he’ll use the time to assume more power here.”
“Will you be safe?” I ask.