Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
In truth, all about him was dark. The black stone of the castle. The carpet. The wrought iron around the large, grand and ostentatious chandeliers dangling from chains along the ceiling. The long, heavy, midnight velvet draperies dressing the sides of the wide, spiked windows to his right. The black leather shirt, trousers and boots covering his and Macrinus’s bodies.
Bloody dark.
The lot of it.
A physical metaphor for Cassius’s life.
Mac fell in step beside him. “You know, it’s not just a bodily function.”
This he knew.
So very well.
Cassius just stopped himself from closing his eyes at just how much he knew precisely that and kept on without breaking stride.
Macrinus’s tone was much altered when he began, “Brother—”
“Speak more on this topic, you’ll be doing it through swallowing your teeth,” Cassius bit out.
Mac gave it a moment, striding beside him, before he said, “I wasn’t hanging about outside your room for an audible audition of the comely maid you’ve chosen, Cass. Your father sent me to get you.”
At that, Cassius stopped short and turned to his friend.
“For fuck’s sake, why?” he demanded.
“I don’t know,” Mac answered. “The earth is round. The sky is blue. His eggs weren’t done to his liking this morning. He breathes. You breathe. I breathe. Does Gallienus need a reason to demand your presence?”
Unfortunately, his father did not and never had.
This being not only because the man was his father but because he was also king.
Cassius resumed walking.
Mac did as well.
“The tremor happened again last night,” Macrinus noted unnecessarily.
“I know, Mac,” Cass said on a sigh. “I felt it. The trolls and pixies and gnomes felt it. Even the mermaids and gogmagogs probably felt it.”
“Well, my guess is, earthquakes don’t happen every fortnight on the hour for months,” Mac declared.
Not missing a step, Cassius spared him a glance, inquiring, “Do you think?”
Mac’s heavy brows snapped together. “You’re in a foul mood for a man who’s just used a maid for good purpose.”
Cassius stopped dead.
So did Mac and his brow had not cleared.
“You need to—” his friend began.
“Be careful how you finish that,” Cassius growled.
“Cass, it’s been six years,” Macrinus growled in return.
Cassius turned fully to him, lifting his brows and crossing his arms on his chest. “And this? This is something you know? Is this the amount of time it takes to heal after watching your wife grunt and sweat and scream and push and pray and bleed as she expels your daughter into your own gods-damned bloody hands? And then the last thing on this earth she does is smile at her wee babe, smile in your face, and then die?”
“You know I have no wife and you know I can’t imagine—”
“No,” Cassius grunted, turning, dropping his arms and resuming his gait. “You can’t. So cease speaking of it.”
“Liviana would not wish for you to go on like—”
His friend didn’t finish mostly because he had Cassius’s hand wrapped around his throat and he’d been slammed against the black stone wall in a passageway of the Sky Citadel, the castle of the King of Airen, situated in the capital city of that great and terrible realm.
“Do not,” he rumbled, his face an inch from Mac’s, “speak of what Liviana would wish.”
Mac didn’t fight.
He also didn’t give up.
“She would not wish it and you know it. She’d want you to find happiness and not with a bloody maid.”
Like what he did with that maid brought him happiness.
He hadn’t been truly happy, sadly even in his daughter’s presence, in six bloody years.
Cassius’s fingers squeezed. “I’m warning you, Mac.”
“And Aelia needs a mother,” Macrinus spat.
Dear gods, he could actually feel the blood swarming in his head.
“For the gods sakes, would you two break it up,” Nero called, and both men looked to the side to see their brother striding their way. “Gallienus is in a snit. Whatever this is, finish it later.”
Cassius let his hand drop and turned away from Mac. “He sent you too?”
“He’s called for all your lieutenants, and when you didn’t arrive, oh, about two seconds after Mac departed to get you, he started getting testy,” Nero returned. “Or…testier.”
Cassius’s head turned again toward Mac. “You did not share this.”
“Sorry, I was too busy being accosted to dive deeply into all of this morn’s news,” Macrinus retorted.
Cassius moved his attention to Nero who had joined them. “Why are you all there?”
“I’ve no clue. I also don’t much care outside of having things to do this morning, wishing to do them, therefore also wishing whatever this is to be done so I can go about doing them. In other words, will you two stop dawdling?”
On that, Nero turned and prowled in the direction he’d come.
“We’ll finish later, not with your hand around my throat,” Mac muttered.
“We’ll speak no more of it, with my hand at your throat or otherwise,” Cassius muttered in return and resumed walking, now following Nero.