Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
“And the wedding will be going forward,” I proclaimed gaily, gaining all the women’s attention. I forced my voice to remain light as I said words I did not wish to say. “So perhaps while Cassius discusses the state of Sky Bay and this dreadful siege, we can talk about happier things, like how the wedding plans are coming along.”
“These affairs are handled by the steward,” Horatia snapped. “He is seeing to the planning.”
“Well, since I’m here now and it’s my wedding, I shall be taking over supervising the arrangements.” I was pleased with myself I got that out without gagging, and since I was on a roll, I kept going. “So let us all get briefed and after,” I looked up to Cassius, “you can give me tour of your home.”
“This is not going to work,” Cassius said to me.
“What?” I asked mock-innocently.
He studied me.
Then he lifted a hand, his fingers curled in, but his thumb extended, and with it he stroked my cheek.
Another gasp (again, I suspected coming from Domitia), as Cassius murmured, “No, it will not work, my lamb. But it will at least be amusing to watch you try.”
“I’ve decided to be married in pink,” I proclaimed abruptly, sounding slightly strangled as I forced out those words. “Yards and yards and yards of frothy pink.”
I heard Jazz make a noise like she was very much being strangled.
Cass just stared at me.
Then he threw his head back and roared with laughter.
I watched, stunned immobile at how beautiful he looked laughing, and how exquisite was the sound of his laughter.
He had not, not once in all our time together, laughed with that abandonment anywhere near me.
It was gorgeous.
Still doing it, he caught my face in both his hands, dipped his head and kissed me thoroughly.
I vaguely heard another gasp (also likely Domitia), but mostly I just smelled and tasted Cassius and his kiss.
He lifted away minutely and whispered, “Yes, it will be amusing to watch you try.”
I smiled at him.
He shook his head, let me go, looked over my shoulder and queried, “The sergeant-at-arms is waiting to attend us to share his briefing?”
“Yes, sir,” a male voice barked efficiently.
“Let us go,” he sighed, looked down at me, lifted his hand again to glide his thumb along my cheek, and then he stepped away.
I instantly turned to the Ladies Royal and quickly claimed Domitia and Cornelia by linking arms with them, stating my preferences immediately, and casting Horatia into a position she was going to have to get used to.
No one ruled a sister.
Be they king or bully.
“Let us go, have some wine, get to know one another and talk about adventures and weddings,” I bid as I moved them toward the doors.
As we walked, I sensed something even more unpleasant than the air we were breathing and cast my attention in the direction from whence it was coming.
There, I saw a comely maid standing amongst the other servants, staring daggers at me.
I did not have any experience with such.
I still knew why that emotion was aimed at me.
Cassius had had her.
And she was feeling proprietary.
Shite.
My heart pinched, my eyes locked with hers, and I realized Circe had been right, though at the time she didn’t know how right she really was.
I had to conserve my energy.
For I had a number of battles on my hands
And none of them would be won with staffs and arrows.
I was not adept at the tactics that would bring these kinds of victory.
Nor did I have Melisse (who was, thank the goddess, upon news from the last bird we received, still with us) close to guide me.
I was on my own.
I was also (effectively) Princess Regent of Airen.
Thus, I was going to have to learn.
And do that quickly.
94
The Summit
Queen Farah
Queen’s Dressing Room, Birchlire Castle, Notting Thicket
WODELL
“Sling.”
At my husband’s voice, my eyes, aimed at the mirror, shifted from watching Helga work at the laces at the back of my gown, upwards, to my husband’s face as he approached me.
“I’ll return shortly, my queen,” Helga murmured, dipping, and then quickly, and silently, gliding from the room.
“True—” I began.
He stopped behind me, dropped his head and touched his lips to the exposed skin of my neck where it met my shoulder.
I fought a shiver.
His green eyes then lifted to mine in the mirror.
“I miss doing your laces,” he murmured.
I did too.
I also missed him undoing them, and more, wished we had moved on to him undoing them for more purpose than to help me prepare for bed in order to sleep.
Before I could reply, he repeated, “Sling.”
“My arm is stiff,” I told him.
“It’s healing,” he told me.
“It’s annoying,” I shared.
“I can imagine,” he replied. “You’re still wearing it.”
“I’m fine. It’s fine. It’s time to move it and—”
“Farah, three more days, and then we’ll assess.”
“One day,” I haggled.