Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71403 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Freyja’s now familiar knock sounded at the front door.
I erupted to my feet and smoothed my skirt. “Come in,” I called, heart thudding.
She bustled in, her ever-present clipboard in hand. “Greetings, princess. Your meeting with Mr. Thorson is soon. He’s a renowned kraken etiquette specialist. The best of the best, usually booked two years in advance. At the king’s request, he has agreed to meet with you.”
What? “Nein. I’m supposed to be with the king.” Studying runes.
“I was told to fetch you, so that is what I’m doing.”
I pursed my lips. I didn’t see how kraken etiquette advanced our goal. But fine. Maybe Sebastian had been called away again. In Ashmorra, someone was always pulling on Olyssa, needing an answer, or direction, or an enemy piked on the royal lawn.
“I can assure you, I’m already well-versed in etiquette.” I was both a royal and a prima ballerina used to performing before dignitaries. “But I will do this.”
“A wise decision. Kraken etiquette is like no other.” She turned on her heel. “This way, princess. His Majesty informed Mr. Thorson that he cannot begin until both students are present. Currently, you are the only one absent.”
My brows knitted. “Both students?” Had he recruited a backup consort? He’d said only me. Twice. But he’d also mentioned he’d go ‘a different route’ if I refused. And I had told him to.
As Freyja marched on, I followed, my stomach in knots.
Chapter
Seven
Learn the vocabulary of silence. Or die.
–An Incomplete Guide to Kraken Survival
Iremained laser focused as Freyja led me through the palace. Past a series of tall alcoves. Past sculpted coral reliefs depicting kraken of renown who’d done great feats. Their many shadowy arms entwined with ships and shifters. What truly captured my attention, however, were the runes. Lots and lots of runes, etched into the walls.
Though I listened with every fiber of my being, none spoke to me.
“Here we are,” Freyja announced, rapped on the door and fled. Ms. Cool, Calm Clipboard practically raced down the corridor.
Maybe I should take a cue from her and go. But the door slid open, hinges squeaking, and there was no getting out of this.
A narrow, angular man motioned me inside a study, and he did not look happy about it. Mr. Thorson?
The chamber smelled of polished shipwrecked timber and salty sea air. Heavy curtains covered the dome windows. Every ray of light came from candles, which scented the air with wax and smoke. The room itself was curved, bowing inward, and covering every surface was the inlaid script running through the rest of the palace. More runes.
And there, before a roaring, coral fireplace, stood Sebastian. The other student.
Aaah. Now everything made sense. I wasn’t in competition with some other rune whisperer; I was getting my lesson in all things rune after all, as promised.
Unfortunately, my body betrayed me at the first sight of him. My pulse fluttered, and slight tremors set up camp in my limbs. But who could blame me? Beautiful from a distance, devastating up close. His simple leathers and tunic did nothing to diminish his quiet authority.
How was a dragon princess supposed to protect herself from this kind of visual assault?
“Sit,” Mr. Thorson commanded. “I have been given the monumental task of preparing you for all upcoming functions.”
Wait. We were getting a real etiquette lesson, not studying runes as he’d promised?
Sebastian must have read my thoughts. “What I promised comes after,” he said.
Okay. All right. Now, to respond to Mr. Thorson. Up went my chin. “Is adding please not part of kraken etiquette, sir?”
He gave no reaction and no apology. Sebastian, on the other hand, almost smiled, and oh, I wanted to see one. A real toothy one that stretched from ear to ear.
Perhaps Mr. Thorson could give him smiling instructions? Actually, Soley would be the one for that job.
Mr. Thorson motioned toward two low stools facing each other in the center of the room.
Sebastian crossed to me and caught my hand in his. An action that no longer startled but warmed. He escorted me to the stool and helped me sit before lowering himself directly across from me.
“Both of you. Close.” Mr. Thorson clapped his hands. “Knees must touch. This is expected.”
I arched a brow at Sebastian. Never mind that this seemed beyond excessive for a five day courtship. “He commands you, the king?”
“Just do what he says,” he told me, tone as dry as a desert. “It’s easier.”
I swallowed a laugh as we both scooted closer. Our knees brushed, as ordered, and I jolted. Romance novels had plenty to say about the intimacy of a lingering glance, the stroke of skin against skin, a stolen kiss. They omitted the disarming effects of a knee graze.
Mr. Thorson walked a circle around us. “You’ll forgive the informality of my instruction. The convergence ball is our most important event of the season and it kicks off tomorrow. The formal courtship, rushed as it is,” he said with a pointed glance at Sebastian, “will be scrutinized by all.”