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)
The man who once was king?
Well then, didn’t that have a lovely ring to it?
“Horatia,” Cassius told him.
“To the palace we go,” he stated cheerfully, faking a doffing of a hat he did not wear with a maneuver of his hand.
He then moved us into the dank confines beyond, tipping his head jauntily to guards along the way, all of whom bowed to Cassius and me, none of whom looked spiteful, though many looked speculative as they regarded me.
Reginald entered a doorway that was opened by a guard at the tallest tower (apparently, the “palace”) and up we went.
Up, up, up, past eight doors, before he called out on the final flight, “Oy, there! Open up. The Regent is here.”
Thus, at the top, we were able to move right through the door there that was manned by another guard wearing Reginald’s uniform.
“Best room of the lot, coziest,” Reginald declared on a tip of the chin at the guard tending the first door we came to, one I knew would have an unadulterated, and perhaps even stunning view of Sky Bay.
The door was opened to us, and as we entered (only Cass and I, due to the limited space), I was thrown by how tidy and well-appointed it was.
Everything was in blacks, grays and browns (as per usual in this land).
But there was a rather large bed with a fluffy mattress, puffy pillows and thick duvet over it, as well as several woolen throws and even a fur. An armchair with ottoman. A table with four chairs, as if awaiting a small dinner party or a game of chance. Thick rugs overlapping each other on the floors to keep draughts at bay. Lanterns all around to fight the gloom. And a roaring fire in a small fireplace, but one that heated the space relatively thoroughly.
And I was correct.
Upon turning my head from Horatia, who rose from the armchair after setting aside a book (setting it on top of a stack of others), I saw from one of the three albeit narrow windows (so narrow, it would be impossible for but the smallest of children to push through) the view was astounding.
“You are keeping well?” Cassius asked.
“I have nothing to say to you,” she spat.
“No need to answer that, I see you are,” he muttered.
And she was.
She did not look sallow or unwashed.
In fact, her hairstyle was lovely, her clothing clean, and although she did not have the yards of chains at her neck and wrists she normally wore, and no paint on her face (which I thought made her far more attractive), she looked positively robust.
It had not been long she had been there, but still.
“I come to make you an offer,” Cassius told her.
“You have nothing I desire,” she returned.
“Not even your freedom?” he queried.
She glared at him.
“It would help greatly if all three of my father’s wives were to share openly about their treatment at his hands—” Cassius began.
“That is not happening,” she snapped.
“Is it simply that you feel you did not suffer at his hands? Or that you would not be willing to attest to what you knew about what the others endured?” Cassius asked.
“Your father, my husband, my king was always most kind to me. To all of us,” she declared.
And at that, I jumped, for Cassius let out a bark of genuinely amused laughter.
I studied him closely, wondering if strain was perhaps having an effect, but as his laughter waned, he said to Horatia, “That was most amusing.”
“I wasn’t being funny.”
“You do know I saw with my own eyes Gallienus not being most kind at all,” he reminded her.
“What happens in a man’s bedchamber—” she started.
“Enough,” he interrupted, then regarded her before musing, “I don’t understand it. Do you have some sort of madness?”
“No,” I answered for her. “She had status, she had power, and she used it, did you not?”
“I am a woman, and I—”
“Saved yourself by offering them up,” I surmised. “You cowed them so that he could truly cow them, and at their expense, you thrived. Not queen of a land. Not partner to a king. But queen of your little dominion. In order that you would not face it, you made it so he turned to them.”
“It is their duty to their lord and king,” she retorted, finishing snidely, “And husband.”
“And it was yours as well, was it not?” I asked.
She sniffed. “He would use me.”
“Would he?”
“Of course, I am his wife.”
“We have kindly not discussed this with Domitia. She needs some time to heal,” I shared. “Cornelia is quite closed off. She needs some time to learn to trust. But when the time comes that they feel safe to chat, what will they tell us?”
“I couldn’t begin to imagine,” she replied.
I took a step toward her. “You do know, it is understandable…not acceptable, but in your world and how you had no choice but to exist in it, it is understandable that you would seek to protect yourself. However, now you have other protections, and I encourage you to use them.”