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)
True and Alfie stared at each other.
The door opened and Bronagh bustled through.
Alfie looked to the door.
True kept his gaze to his friend, and thus saw Alfie’s face change instantly from speculative and concerned to inhospitable and annoyed.
True turned to her when Bronagh stopped at the foot of the bed and put her hands to her hips, regarding Alfie while noting, “I see you’re your usual chipper self today.”
“I see you unfortunately did not fall off a cliff since your last post,” Alfie returned.
True drew in a sharp breath.
Bronagh’s pretty face went stricken before it looked like it would crumble.
“Alfie,” he whispered.
But Alfie was looking like he’d give anything to rise from that bed on his own power, not to walk, not to ride, not to fight.
But to take his feet in order to properly apologize.
“That was—” he began.
Bronagh quickly hid her emotion behind efficiency and interrupted him to query, “Are you in pain?”
“Bronagh—” Alfie started gently.
“Are you in pain, sir?” she demanded.
“No,” he said.
“You will call if you’re in pain. I’ll be outside the door.”
And with that, she turned and scurried to and through the door, closing it behind her.
“Fuck,” Alfie muttered.
True considered carefully what to do next.
And out of necessity, he made a quick decision.
“That was not my captain,” he stated.
Alfie looked to him. “True—”
“I don’t know who that man was, but he was not you,” True informed him flatly. “I cannot begin to imagine the many things plaguing your mind and your body. But the Alfie Henriksson I know would never speak like that to a woman. Indeed, to anyone.”
“She draws up ire in me, I know not where it stems,” Alfie admitted.
True stood, looked down at his friend and shared it openly.
“It stems from the fact you’re attracted to her. You feel the same from her. And you’re convinced it can go nowhere. Thus, you wish to drive her away. I think she is one of the very few who have some inkling of what you’re going through, and what your life could become, if you fight for it. And she comes here every day and looks at you like she looks at you so that tells me what your life could become, and who you could have in it, if you fought for it.”
Alfie’s face hardened. “I haven’t been in this bed even a month—”
“I don’t care,” True cut in. “The Alfie Henriksson I know wouldn’t care. He fought battles that were useless and unwinnable out of loyalty to me and the belief one day it would be over, and the future would be better. Now he has a battle that is crucial to win, and it’s winnable, and he falters.”
“Fuck you, True,” Alfie spat.
“Good,” True whispered and bent to him. “Shovel it at me, I can take it. But her,” he kept bent and pointed toward the door, “maybe she can’t, but you don’t want to find out if that’s the case.”
He decided that was enough, straightened, and without another word to his friend, he walked out of the room.
Bronagh did not meet his eyes when he was in the hall, and True gave her that, turning to make his way to his and Farah’s chambers.
It was not late, it was not early. Not long ago, he and Farah had dined with a number of men and charmed folk, for even if True had an insurgency on his hands, the Beast possibly risen and lying in wait, his friends in their realms dealing with serious and dangerous issues, he had not given up on his idea for the future of Wodell.
He could think of no other future than one where they quelled this Rising and defeated the Beast.
Which meant there was a future, and he had to plan for it.
And that meant, when (not if), they recovered the coin Carrington stole from them, he would utilize it to build a parliament building, adjacent offices for its members and staff, and to hold elections throughout his land.
Emissaries from various provinces and clans of charmed folk were astonished by this idea, but receptive to it. Tremendously so.
This meant there was much to plan, much to do, his people needed to be educated about this idea and understand that they were not losing their king. He was not shirking his duty. He would continue to be the last word in his realm and deeply involved in its governing.
But they would have a say.
He was pleased at the response to this idea.
He was also tired just thinking of implementing it.
Exhausted.
He did not sleep well in the norm.
But since his mother’s death, he had barely slept at all.
If he could have his greatest wish, he would take Farah somewhere remote and private, maybe the Royal Cottage on the sea outside Welling Harbor and hole in. No meetings. No conferences. No summits. No strategy sessions.