Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
We’ve reached the largest tent. Abarrane wrinkles her nose. “I should insist you all bathe before defiling this tent.”
“And I should insist you allow the caster to heal your wounds.” Zander pulls aside the leather flap. “But first, she and I must discuss a few things.”
I make to move forward into the tent, but Zander’s free hand in the air, palm out, stops me.
“Alone.”
My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? I deserve answers as much as—ow!” A sharp prick against my neck cuts off my words. I flinch away and find Abarrane’s dagger aimed at my throat, cold fury in her eyes.
“Your blood does not frighten me, Ybarisan,” she hisses. “I will be happy to discuss what you deserve while I make you bleed.”
A warm trickle slides down my throat, the slice in my skin stinging.
“Abarrane,” Zander scolds in a tone more appropriate for a child throwing a tantrum as he waves her blade away.
The weapon lingers in the air for another three seconds, poised for attack, before she sheathes it.
Satisfied, he shifts his attention to Gesine. “After you.”
The caster flashes me a reassuring smile before ducking into the tent.
“Elisaf.” That’s all Zander says before he follows her inside, dropping the flap behind him.
5
Zander
“Yes.”
I stare at the caster, sitting primly on the tree stump in the middle of the tent—a convenient interrogation spot, likely by Abarrane’s design. She’s an attractive woman, her black hair close in shade to Romeria’s, her pale green eyes striking as they observe with hawkish interest.
The gold collar around her neck gleams from the single torch burning within the darkening drape of the leather canvas walls. A stark reminder that Gesine is not to be trusted.
“Yes? You are freely admitting that I have been cursed to love Romeria?” I had expected her to dance around the answer.
“In a manner of speaking. The princess was created on Queen Neilina’s sanctum altar, by the queen and her commander, and Aoife.”
“Tiberius sired her.” Tyree had alluded to King Barris not being Romeria’s true father.
“Tiberius may have given his seed, but Aoife was the one who ensured what sprouted did so for the sole purpose of destroying Islor. Ianca witnessed it all.”
I breathe through this revelation. “And so now what? Will I be tormented for my remaining days?” Fighting against my thoughts and the gravitational pull I feel whenever Romeria is near?
“That is entirely up to you. Now that you know the truth without a doubt, you can make your own choices. The fates may control much, but they cannot control free will—”
“I certainly didn’t have control of my heart!” I roar, thankful that I demanded Gesine shield this conversation to keep our voices from carrying.
The torch flames flare to twice their size. It is so rare that I lose control of my affinity like that. In fact, I never do. Not since childhood.
Gesine’s gaze never veers from mine as she gently says, “You did not know there was a choice to be made beyond the obvious. You were choosing peace between Islor and Ybaris and hope for your people. That the princess who arrived was pleasing in many ways—not the least of which was how she supported your ideology for Islor’s future—was an assumed blessing, not something to be suspicious of.”
“You’re trying to appease me for my idiocy. I should have seen it.” A king undistracted by a beautiful face would have seen it. “And then she murdered my parents. Tried to murder me. But it all makes sense. How else could I have fallen back in love with the woman after she did such unspeakable things? How could I ever have toyed with the idea of making her my queen unless it was never my choice to begin with?” I pace as I rant.
“Dare I say, you did not fall in love with the same woman twice, despite the physical resemblance.”
“I do not see how that matters.”
She purses her lips. “Your eyes are now open to Neilina’s deception. Doubt no longer hangs over what she has done, and any decision you make going forward regarding your intentions for Romeria is yours to make.”
“If only I trusted that.”
“You are not the only one who fell in love despite all odds, Your Highness.”
“I also fail to see how that matters.” Regardless, those odds are no longer in our favor.
Romeria has been trying to close herself off since last night. The moment I suggested we part ways, I felt her slamming the door shut on her emotions. She can’t hide the hollow ache in her heart that swells every time our gazes touch, though. Not from me.
But what do I feel for this woman who has lied and deceived me in one form or another, first as Princess Romeria, and then as Romy Watts from New York City? Nothing that’s untainted by Aoife and Neilina’s designs, and nothing that can continue now that I know what’s at stake. There isn’t room for these emotions between us anymore.