Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
He leans back in his chair. “I’m glad you are taking this seriously.”
“I am! I just don’t see the point while there’s an actual war going on out there. Everyone’s at the rift, risking their lives, and we’re sitting here, writing letters from this sparkly castle. I mean, the roof literally sparkles.” I point out the window to where lantern light ignited by caster magic reflects off multifaceted rubies and sapphires and diamonds.
“One taste for battle and suddenly she can’t get enough.” He sets down the quill and stands, his expression stony. “Do not underestimate the value of what you have accomplished. What you will accomplish.” He rounds the desk. “Islor was facing not only a civil war but also one with our neighboring realm. You ended both.”
“And now we’re fighting a war against fucking monsters, and you’ve lost your throne.”
“I had already lost my throne, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. To your brother, because of me.”
He collects my chin between his thumbs and forefingers. “And if I had to endure it all over again, I would make the same choice.” He leans in to brush his lips against mine. “Just this morning, Mordain’s Prime was executing scribes and cutting off support from the casters. So, you devised a brilliant plan and went in there on your own—”
“With Solange’s help.”
“—saving them all—”
“Not all.”
He groans through another kiss, this one hard. “Stop interrupting me while I sing your accolades.”
I roll my eyes dramatically.
He releases my chin to tug my braid. “And you have secured an alliance with a realm who has been killing key casters for two thousand years.”
“If Allegra survives.” The casters whisked her and Zaleria off to a room in the elementals’ tower and told us they would know more by morning.
“Give yourself credit where it is due, Romeria.”
“What about your throne? What about Malachi?”
“There is not much we can do at present. Arriving unannounced in Cirilea has proven a bad idea, and killing him will not be so easy with Sofie as his shield.” Zander smooths a hand over my hip. “He wears my clothes and my crown, but he seems more interested in playing king than destroying the realm.”
“For how long, though?”
“Only time will tell. But that is why we must focus on winning the loyalty and hearts of our people—both yours and mine—and proving to them that we are joined in our aims for peace and prosperity, so that when the day comes, we are united.” He leans down to peck my nose with his lips. “Hence the letters.”
A grating sound suddenly fills the queen’s chamber. Zander’s sword is in his grip and my affinities bubble in mine as a panel in the wall slides open.
We both sigh in relief as Jarek’s broad frame fills the gaping passage beyond. He and Abarrane have been scouring the castle since we arrived, searching for anything that might interest us. “Look what I found.”
“What you found?” Lucretia’s voice sings from the darkness. “You have a short memory, Commander.” She’s been calling him that since they arrived tonight.
His jaw tenses. To say Jarek wasn’t pleased when he saw Lucretia at the port would be an understatement. “You will both want to see this.”
I marvel at the windowless room, lit with lanterns—fueled by caster magic that ignited as soon as Jarek pulled the hidden lever. “How in the world did you find it?” I walked through Princess Romeria’s quarters earlier and noticed nothing other than the mundane taupe silks and general lack of evil aura one might expect to linger in the personal space of such a duplicitous villain. The trigger to open it is carved into the molding on the opposite side of the room from the entrance behind the fireplace.
“I am a skilled legionary. I miss nothing.”
“And I did not miss the way the serpent led you there, practically holding your hand as you pulled,” Abarrane muses. “It’s as if she knew where it was all along.”
“I do not know what is built within these walls, warrior. I have never been to this place before.” Lucretia’s eyes sparkle with delight as they drag over the floor-to-ceiling shelves.
I sense a half-truth in her answer, but it’s not worth chasing yet. “So, this secret room has doors into Neilina’s and Romeria’s chambers?”
“And Prince Tyree’s as well—here.” Abarrane points to a panel in the octagonal-shaped room, sitting open a crack. “But not the king’s, from what I can see.”
“His chamber is too far away. And I imagine they did not want him privy to their scheming.” Zander fumbles through a stack of loose paper on the expansive table in the center. A map much like the one in Zander’s circular war room fills at least half of it.
“Look. They even had portraits drawn of you.” I hold up a sketch of Zander. “Not bad, though whoever drew this made your eyes too small. And I wouldn’t have used charcoal. The lines are too heavy.”