Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
We’d ridden from Stonewill Chateau as if demons had been chasing us back to Blackscar.
Once there, we discovered that we’d lucked out and Jasper had found a book with the poison and antidote recipes. He worked for three days with the healers, concocting the antidote for Orian.
New antidote in hand, we rode almost nonstop for two weeks to West Vale, where we now sat within sight of the southern gate. A full moon bathed us in cold, white light as we waited for Nylian’s contact to escort us safely past the guards.
We’d constantly dodged patrols the entire journey. When necessary, Adeline and I would scurry into a small town for some basic supplies while Jasper and Nylian waited outside. We might have been confident that the king didn’t actually think Nylian was a murderer, but appearances had to be maintained until the true culprit was found. As a result, any soldier or guard who spotted Nylian would arrest him at once, and we couldn’t afford any delays.
“Do you know who our contact is?” I whispered. My horse huffed and stomped one of its hooves in the dirt. I reached down and patted its neck, trying to soothe anxious nerves. There was nothing I could do about my own.
“No. Uncle didn’t say, but I have a hunch who it will be.”
Yeah, that was still a festering wound. Nylian and his uncle had spoken briefly while we’d stayed in Blackscar, but the mood had remained tense the entire time. At least the duke had stopped trying to kill me, which I took as a step in the right direction.
Of course, if we survived this and saved Orian’s life, there was no telling if Nylian’s father wouldn’t take the same stance and have me executed despite his son’s wishes.
Sitting on my horse, several yards from the gate in some heavy shadows thrown by tall trees, I found a weight forming around my heart, threatening to pull me into swirling, dark thoughts. This was it. We were nearing the end of the book I had mapped out. My notes had been incredibly loose for the ending, but the idea was for Nylian to return to the royal capital of Wolfrest with the key to regaining his honor and place as a favored son of the king. Just a couple of battles more and it would be over. His life would return to normal.
But what about me? What would happen to me? The book was done, and the battle was won. If I’d been sent here to sort out the mess I’d created, didn’t logic follow that I would return home again?
I didn’t want to go back.
That wasn’t home to me any longer.
This was home.
Nylian was my home now.
Fuck, after all this time, I could ride a horse. I was getting better with a sword. Life in this world didn’t seem so daunting, though Nylian played a big part in my urge to acclimate to this world.
I didn’t want to leave him, ever. There had to be more story after our happily ever after. I couldn’t imagine what the fuck it would be, but I wanted to discover it with him.
The only problem was that I didn’t think the magic that brought me here cared one bit about what I wanted.
Maybe after we healed Orian, there would be enough time for the healers to look at the coin. They could help me stay here.
The thought had barely formed in my mind when there was sudden movement among the guards. The handful we’d spotted outside the gate moved inside after a brief conversation with another guard. A second later, a cloaked figure rode out on a tall black horse and whistled once. We couldn’t see the person’s face or even any details of their form other than that they were rather short.
“That’s the contact. Let’s go. Stick close together.” Nylian put his heels into the flanks of his horse and leaped forward, racing toward the gate. I followed while Adeline and Jasper brought up the rear. It was likely a safe bet that this contact had bribed the guards, allowing us to enter the city. We couldn’t waste the opportunity.
As soon as our contact spotted us, they turned their horse and raced into the city, leading us down winding streets lit by warm, flickering lights that reminded me of fireflies in a mason jar. Even in the thick darkness of the middle of the night, my heart tripped to see West Vale for the first time. It was better than I could have ever imagined.
Where Ulmenor was elegant stone buildings poking at the sky, all of West Vale was made of trees. Every building was a living, growing tree that had been hollowed and shaped to contain shops and homes. In the darkness, I could still make out the browns and greens everywhere I looked. Even the air seemed fresher and sweeter here with the rich scent of greenery and blossoming flowers. West Vale was a living, breathing marvel. The only stones to be found were in the wall that surrounded the royal capital and the roads under the horses.