Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I get that giggly feeling again, though I try to choke it down. I feel a little guilty, and actually a lot like I am in trouble, which is bad news and doesn’t feel entirely fair. It’s not like I murdered anybody. Which is more than he can probably say. He is wearing tight dark pants and a black shirt. His hair is hanging loose around his face, and his eyes are flashing under his brows.
Coming into this place is always like coming into a cave. There’s a darkness and a closeness to it that could verge on the claustrophobic. It’s the exact opposite of everything I came from.
“What happened?” He asks the question curtly.
“Nice to see you, my husband,” I reply. “I’ve had a lovely day.”
He looks at me with a hard expression. “You’ve been brought home in disgrace.”
“I’ve been brought back in dis dress,” I reply. “It’s a very nice dress, but there’s no need to be grumpy about it.”
“This is not the time to be cute, Mila,” he says. “I allowed you to go out on your own, and I am notified that you have run away from your guard.”
I look over at Lydia. If I was a petty person, I could tell my husband that the reason I got away from her is because she was talking to the hot candy man, but I decide not to. I’m surprised at myself, actually. I was going to drop her right in it. It was part of the plan, but I think better of it.
“I must not have noticed that I was getting too far away from her,” I say sweetly. I think this situation can be salvaged. I don’t think there’s any reason for anybody to be in a whole lot of trouble. I am sure Lydia got scared when she realized she’d lost track of me. I’d be afraid of Arthur’s rage too, if I were her. But this doesn’t have to be a big deal.
“She knew very well. She paid someone to try to distract me, and she ran the moment she got the chance. I found her imbibing and consuming illicit materials inside a bush. Hardly the behavior of an Archon-General’s wife.”
Wow. I didn’t tell on her at all, but she decided to drop me right in it.
Arthur is looking at me with disbelief and profound annoyance. “So you ran away from the guard I have repeatedly told you is there for your own safety, and you got drunk and high with a girl you barely know.”
“A woman I barely know. She’s older than me, and I’m not a girl, so…”
“Why are you arguing with me?” He asks that question as if he’s genuinely confused that I dare talk back to him. I don’t think people usually say a word when he is in this mood and mode. I think he is used to dressing down soldiers and sending people to colonies and such. He has no idea how to talk to a wife.
“She’s high,” Lydia interjects.
Now it is my turn to be very, very annoyed. Maybe I am high, but I don’t think so. I feel a little buzzed and a little brave, but I’m tired of people talking to me as if I am entirely out of my mind when I am actually very close to normal.
“I am not high. I am just happy. I know that probably seems to you like I’m on some crazy cocktail of drugs because you’re both so miserable all the time, but it is actually possible to just be happy, you know? You should try it sometime, instead of having that sour, bitchy…”
“Mila!” Arthur thunders my name in a fury. “Bedroom. Now!”
I am sent to the bedroom to await my fate. It takes a long time for anybody to come, so long, in fact, that I fall asleep on the bed. By the time I wake up, it is dark outside. Darker than usual, even. Proper nighttime dark. My stomach is growling. I am starving, actually. It has been a while since I ate, and I’ve taken quite a bit of exercise.
I get up and leave the room. I can smell food cooking. In fact, I’ve arrived at dinnertime. Arthur is sitting at the dining table with his friend, Lance, the same man I met on my first day here. He looks at me and smiles. Arthur looks at me and does not.
“Lydia, take Mila back to the bedroom. She seems lost,” he says.
“I’m hungry,” I say.
My comment is ignored. It is an entirely awkward situation, one that I do not know how to navigate. I find it almost unbelievable that my very own husband could not invite me to join him for dinner. He isn’t even looking at me now. Instead he is engaging in conversation with his companion. It’s enough to make me want to snatch up the nearest glass and throw it.