Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
I didn’t leave the bat behind, and I’m sure as fuck not leaving Kyranis.
I don’t know what’s going on with him, but if I leave him here, the sea will take him. He only stands a chance if I pull him out, so I continue my fight step by painful step.
My heart beats faster as I analyze Kyranis’s last words before he slumped over me. Even though I ruined tonight’s ceremony, tried to run away from him, and betrayed his trust, all he worried about was getting me to safety.
I bite my lip, trying not to cry, but I don’t know how much higher the tide is going to get, so there’s no time for self-pity.
Once we’re far enough from the waves, I lay him down in a patch of grass and lean down to kiss his blue lips.
“I’ll take care of you,” I whisper.
My actions might not make a difference, but I will do my best to save him.
Chapter 16
Kyran
My body throbs with pain.
Nausea pulses in my throat.
But I’m alive.
As I slowly come to, it becomes clear I’m lying on smooth sheets, not sand, so whatever happened after I fainted, the elves loyal to me have found and taken care of me. Luke must have gotten to Tristan in time.
I open my eyes to see the shell-shaped canopy above my brother’s—no, above my bed—and as the paintings covering the walls come into focus, I realize I’m not alone.
My cousins from both bloodlines, their parents, as well as all the other important courtiers stand watch over my ailing body, and I exhale with relief when Reiner approaches me with a cup.
“Drink, Sire.”
The bite of a despair can often be fatal, as it was to my mother, but it seems my body was able to fight the poison well enough. I don’t remember any of my nightmares, which is for the better. Elves aren’t supposed to dream. It’s always a terrible omen if we do.
“He is no ‘Sire’,” Anatole scoffs, his cold eyes like two shards of ice. His long, white blond hair lies on his shoulders, flowing all the way to his chest like a cascade, and he’s wearing a blue doublet embroidered with gold thread.
He is the oldest in his generation of the Goldweeds and a thorn in my side, but it’s still a shock to see him display such open hostility. I need to dampen my lips to chastise him, and the bitter taste of the antidote spreads on my tongue.
Which is strange, as it should taste sweet.
“Shut your mouth. You will never speak like this to me again, or I will have you strapped down in the caves at high tide,” I say coldly, and while my voice rasps, I keep it steady as I meet his gaze.
Anatole’s rat-like face twists into a smirk as he steps out from the whole group of courtiers who've been associated with the Goldweeds for as long as I can remember. “You better watch out, so I don’t cut out your lying tongue, Sunspawn.”
My stomach drops as if a huge rock appeared inside it out of nowhere. I look down, and my gaze settles on the golden mark revealed by the open front of my shirt.
The room starts spinning as the court erupts in whispers and moans of outrage. Only then I feel it, the silver collar around my neck, forged in sunlight to inhibit my shadowcraft.
“Impostor!”
“Where is the real prince? What has he done to him?”
“It’s always the twin. Rotten.”
“Dregs of a prince.”
“They should be put down at birth,” someone whispers from the other side of the bed as my heart sinks.
I can’t hide the truth anymore, but as I scramble to find a sensible answer, something that would protect me when I’m so painfully vulnerable, my gaze lands on Reiner.
“Where’s Luke?” I ask.
All the hair on my body bristles when Vinia giggles behind her sister, hiding her face with a fan.
Reiner swallows and won’t meet my eyes. “He drowned.”
It’s like a punch to the chest. I hold my ribcage and shove off the covers, scrambling out of bed, but as I step onto the floor, my leg gives up, and I tumble like a marionette with a torn string. Laughter echoes in my ears, and I blink, staring at feet in pretty blue shoes coming ever closer. The collar around my neck tightens like a noose.
“You have no right to the throne,” Elodie says.
I can’t think. How long have I been asleep? I glance at Tristan, but even he turns away from me as if my presence offends him.
“I swore to protect Prince Kyranis. Not whoever you are.”
“Luke…” I whisper, because that’s the only thing my mind clutches on to.
How… How did he drown when I told him to leave me?
“I’m here,” he whispers and squeezes my hand.
But… how? Didn’t I get up?