The Dawn of the End Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
<<<<21220212223243242>157
Advertisement


She looked at Farah, rolled her eyes and kept snapping, “Men. Worse, soldiers. Ulk.”

She then stomped to the table, put down the glass, turned around, and asked True, “Aught else, my prince?”

It was then True saw she was rather comely.

And she had a lovely figure.

Though her disposition, especially for a nurse, was odd.

“Uh, no,” he answered.

“How about you?” she asked Alfie. “Is there anything I can do for you? Say, bring the tinctures over to your bedside table so you can mix your own draught when you need it?”

“Would you let me do that?” Alfie queried.

“Bloody no,” she bit, threw up both hands like she thought he’d gone completely mad, then stormed out.

He felt Farah coming up on her toes beside him and then heard her whisper, “Would it be bad form to laugh?”

True watched Alfie’s astonished face as he stared at the door the nurse closed behind her and he answered in a whisper, “Maybe we should make the hall at least.”

She took his hand and squeezed.

She let him go in order to approach Alfie and kiss his cheek, but thankfully not do something that might upset him, like pull up his covers and tuck him in.

When his wife moved away, True bent and wrapped his fingers around Alfie’s forearm and he did this tight.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he murmured.

Alfie sighed and then nodded.

True led his wife out of the room and to the stairs that would lead them up to their chambers, both of them, prince and princess, soon to be king and queen, dipping their chins respectfully to a bloody nurse for fear of what she might do if they didn’t.

On this thought, True was halfway to starting to laugh perhaps a little madly, and they were halfway up the steps, when his wife asked, “Do you know your mother’s maid?”

“Helga?”

She looked to him. “Yes, that’s her name.”

“Yes,” he confirmed unnecessarily. “What about her?”

Her face softened even as her gait stayed steady and her eyes remained on him.

“She is suffering, True. I’ve seen her twice today. It’s clear she cared deeply for your mother. I know you are busy, and grieve yourself, but if you could find some time to have a word with her?”

Helga did care about his mother. As much as anyone could be with Mercy, Helga and she were thick as thieves.

He should have thought of her earlier.

“I will speak to her tomorrow,” he said as they made the landing of their chambers.

“I knew you would,” she murmured.

He walked them through the doors and closed them behind him.

“Did you learn anything during the interrogations?” she asked, not heading to her dressing room, instead standing before a sofa and watching him.

Ah, his fierce Farah.

“Darling, you took an arrow today,” he reminded her.

“I know, but—”

“It would please me greatly if you would finally get some rest.”

“I would rest easier if I knew those who took your mother received the treatment they deserved and will lead us to stop anything more happening.”

He knew, in that moment, there would be times in their marriage where he would wish his wife was far less intelligent.

Fortunately, there would be vastly more times when he was grateful that she was so wise.

Thus, he settled in and shared, “Every one of them is Dellish.” He then shook his head. “But they are most curious. It is clear they all embarked on their mission fully aware they would be captured, interrogated, and in the end, executed. I’ve never known a man, one who is not a trained spy, who enters a mission with this knowledge and does it willingly.”

“This is most disturbing,” she whispered.

“It is,” he agreed. “But there is a dichotomy that might work in our favor. You see, at first, they did what it was clear they were told to do. What the men who were tortured by Mars and his Trusted in the necropolis were told to do. Say nothing. Except, in the case of the men at the Keep, the occasional ‘long live The Rising.’”

“How does that work in our favor?”

True moved to her and carefully took her in his arms.

When he had her where he very much liked her, he explained.

“It works in our favor for they are not trained spies. They are not even trained soldiers. I think if Mars spent more time at it in Fire City, we would have learned more. As we had more prisoners, and more time, and some watched what was done to others and could only think the same or worse would be done to them, we learned that you nor I were the targets. Only Mother was. And this was why so many arrows went so many places. Ten arrows missed entirely. And what hit you, Bram, Florian, Alfie were not intended for those targets.”

Farah said nothing for it was unnecessary to remind him that six did hit their target and some of the others did serious damage, even if it was not what was intended.


Advertisement

<<<<21220212223243242>157

Advertisement