Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“Wait, sir. Sire.” Leala bustled in, gave an apologetic curtsey, and went to the wardrobe. She took out a slip for me, no better than a nightgown, and a pair of threadbare jeans for him. “We’ll just cover up a smidge, like Hadriel said. Just a smidge, no biggie. You’ll thank us, sire. And soon we can open lines of trade and get modern things and even some light bulbs. We should get the human electricity through the portals again, right?” A smile stretched across her face. “The magic that lets us pilfer things like that from the human world should be active again. We just need to get reestablished, that’s all. Why we smashed all the light bulbs in year six is beyond me…”
“Leala, love, you’re rambling,” Hadriel murmured.
“Yes. Sorry,” she replied.
Unease rolled through the bond now, but Nyfain didn’t show it on his face. He stepped into the jeans. I slipped on the bit of fabric as Hadriel stepped out into the hall, his eyes large and sorrowful, trained on me again.
“What is it?” I asked him as we passed. He wasn’t acting like his usual self.
Was the queen’s return terrible news for me for some reason? Why was he acting like this was it for me and he wouldn’t see me again?
He shook his head as we passed. Barefoot, Nyfain walked beside me down the stairs.
“She’s out front, sire,” Hadriel said as we made it to the second-floor landing. “She wanted to be as formal as possible, given the circumstances.”
“If this is some sort of joke, Hadriel…” Nyfain said, anger rising, grief riding the tide.
“I would never joke about this, sire,” Hadriel replied. “I know what you’d do to me.”
He made it to the door where Urien waited in a pressed suit with only a little speck of dirt marring the side of his neck. He looked at Nyfain for a solid beat before moving to the door and grasping the handle.
“I will await further instructions,” he said as he opened the door.
A swell of nervousness rolled through the bond. Anger simmered. Nyfain wasn’t sure what to think.
My heart started beating faster. And then, when we walked outside onto the stoop and I saw who waited there, my heart leapt into my throat.
Ami stood there, Claudile just behind her, and Gunduin last in line. She couldn’t have aged in the last sixteen years, otherwise she would’ve been too young to bear Nyfain. Time must’ve stopped for her like it had the court.
But how was that possible if she hadn’t been here? And she hadn’t, because I was at her house.
I was at her house!
When I saw what was in her hand, my stomach curdled.
She held my—her—sword.
Suddenly a million memories came back to me. They’d always reacted strangely to that sword, keeping tabs on it, asking about it. Still, they’d never taken it. They’d never asked for it.
They’d never mentioned that she was my fucking queen! I wouldn’t have been like the others in that village. I would’ve held on to that piece of information.
“Nyfain,” Ami said, her head held high and her bearing straight, regal even with crumpled clothes and messy hair.
Insecurity thrummed through me.
She’d often been so cold to me in the village. Distant. And Claudile had acted like she didn’t trust me. They must’ve smelled Nyfain on me, and they would’ve known his scent. Hell, I’d told them whose scent it was. I’d filled them in about everything.
They’d been judging me the whole time. Clearly they’d found me wanting.
And now they were here to claim their old life back. A life I didn’t fit into. A role that fate had handed me instead of my family lineage.
“Mother,” Nyfain said on a release of breath, so many emotions tumbling through the bond that I couldn’t catch them all. His tone was stiff. “How is this possible?”
Guilt crossed her expression before she could wrestle it under control. In that brief moment, she’d let down her guard. She’d shown the truth of her situation.
And he’d caught it.
One emotion radiated through the bond now.
Betrayal.
Did she have a hand in the curse? If not, how had she escaped it?
Everyone had thought she’d died. The king had grieved and then damned the kingdom, blaming it all on his son for leaving.
Whatever the reason, she was here now. She’d hidden from her people, but now she stood before them, regal, as though she’d never left.
We’d finally released ourselves of the curse, only to be confronted with old haunts. Haunts who still commanded loyalty in the court, not to mention the villages. Haunts who could make my life hell. All of our lives hell. Because she was still technically the queen, in charge of this kingdom we’d just freed.