Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“What happened after he pushed you away?” Mozraath handed Theodor a fresh towel.
“You mean after he hurled me off a mountain that’s taller than the Rintada Peaks?” Theodor tossed his towel into the hamper and sat at his vanity. “The blizzard returned with the full force of the Snow Moon’s rage that very hour he rejected our connection.”
Boraleashe’s stubbornness in giving his heart caused his world and his people to suffer dire consequences. The snowstorm buried the Arctic World in hundreds of feet of snow for months, and when it had subsided, it didn’t leave peacefully; it left behind a plague of poverty, strife, and danger.
Theodor closed his eyes as Mozraath ran the heavy boar’s-hair hairbrush through his long tresses, remembering the single moment when Boraleashe had held the crown of his head and touched their foreheads together.
“Maybe it’s not too late, Theo,” Mozraath exclaimed. “He’s here.”
“Boraleashe’s heart is now impenetrable. The Snow Moon froze it because of his defiance. Now he’ll die well before his time, alone and with a shattered heart.” Theodor straightened, trying to appear nonchalant. “It serves him right.”
Mozraath was quiet for a long time, and Theodor was glad is friend didn’t call him on his blatant lie. But after another half hour passed and Mozraath still had both his hands in his hair, Theodor started to ask questions.
“Moz, you’ve been doing my hair forever. What’s taking so damn long? I’m not in the mood to see my father’s narrowed eyes for me being late.”
“It’ll be worth it, my lord, trust me.”
“I know what you’re doing. And that tunic you picked is too formal,” Theodor complained. He lifted his hand to feel what the hell Mozraath was doing on top of his head, but his knuckles were popped with the hard brush handle.
“I saw the way Boraleashe touched your hair. Everyone in the Arctic World has white hair. I believe he’s fascinated with the many colors of Fhomhair and with you. I can sense his admiration… and his sorrow.”
Theodor tried not to get excited, but he’d always wanted Boraleashe, and more than anything, he wanted him to want him back. “You’re supposed to be on my side. Boraleashe destroyed my desire to love.”
“It is not destroyed, only damaged.” Mozraath twisted together the braids he’d woven into an intricate pattern that flowed down Theodor’s back. Last, he added gold maple leaf accents around the crown of his head. “Boraleashe is here, Theo, and I don’t believe it’s to tell you goodbye.”
“Then do tell why you believe the Ice King has come to a climate that tortures him.”
“Easy.” Mozraath grinned. “He’s come for you. You imprinted your heart onto his, and he can’t ignore it anymore. And I’m going to make it impossible for him to take his eyes off you.”
“I don’t care how much Boraleashe gazes on me. I have enough of that in my kingdom. What I don’t have is a consort. And after seeing what my father has with Dustin, I know without a doubt that I deserve someone who’s going to reciprocate the love I give.”
“I think Boraleashe is here to do just that… or at least try.”
“Not with ice for a heart.”
“And your heart is nourished by the autumn sun. The Snow Moon’s curse is no match for you, Theo. Deep down, you know this.”
Theodor was silent in thought while his best friend dressed him in an ensemble that was appropriate to receive a suitor, not for a stroll in the marketplace.
“I just want you to try, lord. For yourself, for your kingdom… and for his.”
Boraleashe
He is the True Treasure of the Realms
Boraleashe stood impatiently in the main foyer with his court while he waited for Notalus and his heirs to show them the wonders of Tir an Fhomhair. The tour was Notalus’ suggestion, and yet he was late. Boraleashe tugged at the clasp on his robe, trying to breathe through the unbearable heat.
Does it have to be so damn hot everywhere?
“This is ludicrous, not to mention disrespectful. I would never make my guest wait alone while I took my time getting prepared,” Boraleashe grumbled to Adresin. “Notalus is probably at his husband’s feet, praising him.”
“We’re early. So, be patient, please. We need to be diplomatic if we’re to accomplish what we came for.” Adresin frowned, readjusting Boraleashe’s silver medallions on his robe. “Think of Amárach and the havoc to befall our land if you don’t get Theodor Cavalerie to touch your heart again.”
There’s no fuckin’ way he’s ever trusting me again.
Boraleashe wanted to thrash something, but knowing it’d be pointless, he gave his viceroy a stiff nod and kept his mouth closed. A few minutes later, Notalus and his consort were announced, descending the tall staircase hand in hand with their aides behind. Boraleashe was respectful, giving them both a slight bow, keeping his face impassive.