Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
She gave another humph, ignoring the flutters in her belly. He had no idea. “Since you’ll be leaving my side, you should probably give me one of your daggers.”
“Very well,” he replied without hesitation.
What? So not the answer she’d expected.
He unsheathed a blade and laid the hilt upon her open palm.
“You trust me with this?” she asked, hanging the weapon at her waist. Or did he test her? Or both?
“I’ll keep you in my line of sight and flitter to your side for the slightest need,” he said, bypassing her question. “There’ll be no reason for you to...unleash rage.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip and batted her lashes at him, upping today’s flirt. Or finally starting it. “I’ll be safer if I can flitter myself, don’t you think? Tell me how.”
His throat bobbed. Then he shook his head and motioned to someone over her shoulder. “Vee, this is Sabot. A former viceroy, now a royal guard. He will see to your safety while I’m otherwise occupied.” That said, Micah stalked off without another word.
Someone approached her from behind. She sensed him before she heard him and turned. Well. A fae with dark skin and maybe–maybe-not kind eyes. A warrior who was more than a protector, obviously. He was a monitor, meant to ensure she kept her word and stayed put. Micah might trust her with a dagger, but he didn’t trust her with freedom.
What secrets could she glean from this male? “Hello,” she said with a forced grin.
His muteness persisted as he kept his attention fixed somewhere over her head. She tightened her grip on the dagger. Could he ignore her if he were bleeding to death?
No, no. Reconnaissance first. She returned her focus to Micah, who never left her view as he instructed his men. When he demonstrated certain moves, muscles and sinew rippling in golden sunlight, the flutters in her belly reignited. Her pulse galloped. His pale skin flushed from exertion. Sweat beaded here and there, resembling diamonds. He never removed his shirt, like the others, but she didn’t mind. The fabric strained against his bulging muscles.
Every so often, he glanced her way. His irises smoldered, and she flushed. Did he desire her?
“Not like that, unless you hope to die,” he told a soldier, a split second before he swung the longest, sharpest, most lethal-looking sword she’d ever beheld. “Do you want to die?”
The recipient of his attack barely blocked the weapon with his own sword. “No, sir.”
“Then defend yourself with purpose, not panic.”
Purpose, yes. In that, they agreed. Must maintain my course.
New whispers snagged her, galvanizing her hackles. A collection of onlookers amassed nearby, observing the men. Well, some watched the men. Others studied Viori. The blonde who’d first bumped into her stood among them. All wore clothing as well-made as hers.
Must be ladies of the court.
“He treats the little beastie like a queen,” one of them said.
A heavy weight settled over her shoulders. Little beastie?
“He never let Diane spend the night in his tent,” another added. “Or any mistress, for that matter.”
Diane. The lover in chains? Viori hadn’t forgotten the exquisite strawberry blonde. Who’d been quite similar to Blue Dress, in fact.
Curiosity seized her. Did Micah have a type? And why hadn’t he spent an entire night with a woman?
She must know. For her endgame. Only her endgame. And she could find out. These gossips had information. Why not use them to acquire it? She could be nice...for a few minutes.
Viori pasted on her best I’m harmless smile. “Hello.” She eased forward, closing in.
Most gasped, as if fearing for their lives, and broke apart, sprinting away. Only two hung back—Blue Dress and a pretty brunette.
Irritation rose, rousing an urge to create a dozen dirt children. Then the runners could go nowhere without her express permission. And she could actually do it. Small creatures required the least amount of power. Only when she created armies of giants did she weaken.
“Do you not fear me?” she asked the pair.
The question received a snort from both, nothing more.
“I’m Elena,” Blue Dress said. “Micah’s...friend. I’m currently working on an assignment, so you’ll see me only when I return. If I’m lucky, I won’t see you at all.”
Viori went on instant alert. That hesitation...what did it mean? And what was her “assignment”? Was she the replacement paramour? The fact that she had used her king’s name rather than his title spoke volumes.
“How...interesting to meet you.” Oh yes. This Elena must be the new paramour. Or perhaps Micah enjoyed a stable of lovers, and the betrayer had been one of hundreds.
Viori swallowed a growl. Today Elena wore a gown with roses stitched into the pale pink bodice and stems riding the length of the flowing skirt. Another sign of her exalted status.
No wonder Micah had ignored Viori’s presence yesterday. The growl escaped as quiet as a whisper, but as sharp as a dagger.