Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
I pass the guard in the hall. He doesn’t see me or he surely would have tempered his expression. When the mayor mentions getting rid of the riffraff, the guard’s face becomes fierce, a dark, vengeful look passing over his handsome countenance.
An ally?
I can’t be sure, and I certainly can’t walk up to him and say, hey, I’m the supposedly dead princess of the Seelie Fae. Wanna start a revolution? Nope. That falls under the heading of “stupid things to do.” But if the mayor’s guard can be swayed to my side, there’s no time like the present to begin the process.
I give him what I hope is my kindest smile and pass him a sandwich of soft bread and tangy cheese.
The guard’s eyes light, and then he frowns. “Best not, Miss.”
He really is hungry. It no longer matters what damn side he’s on. I can’t help but feel for the man. I’ve been hungry. I’ve felt it gnaw at my stomach and prayed for anything to end the slow torture of starvation.
“Please. We have more than enough, and the mayor won’t notice.” I press the sandwich into his hand. “I won’t be able to enjoy a thing if I know you’re out here with your stomach rumbling.”
The guard smiles, the look softening his face. “My thanks to you, Miss. It’s said around town that you and your sister are kind ones.” He leans over and whispers. “Tell the brownies to hide. Leave their homes. They need to go underground. He’s going to come for them.”
He stands back up, his face red as a beet as though he knows he just committed treason.
I nod and put a hand on his. “I thank you, sir.”
My heart pounding, I walk into the parlor. I pray my rage doesn’t show.
“There she is.” The mayor looks up, satisfaction written on every line of his face. “Beautiful Isolde.”
I’m glad the man doesn’t know my real name. I would hate to hear it on his lips. I set the tray on the table, grateful that unwed women are supposed to be shy. He will think the fact that I don’t look at him is charming.
“Come and sit with me, dear.”
Panic threatens to overtake me. Gillian shifts uncomfortably, her eyes going to the window where the silhouettes of the two guards Micha left outside stand, their pikes held high. I have dreams at night of Gillian on the end of one of those hated pikes.
I sit down, trying to keep plenty of distance between us.
“Gillian, dear, might I have a word alone with your sister?” The request practically slithers out of his mouth.
Gillian sits straight up, and I can see she’s reached the end of her patience. I have to stop her.
“Please, Gilly. I’ll be fine. I can handle it. After all, being a good hostess is all a part of my job, right?” I place careful emphasis on the word “job” since Gillian recently gave me a lecture on what my true job was. Staying alive.
Her jaw tightens, but I breathe easier as Gillian stands. “I suppose I can go and find something a bit stronger than tea if Your Honor would prefer it.”
The mayor winks. “I think we might be needing that. Find something for a celebration, dear.”
My stomach turns since I know what’s coming. My time is up.
The minute Gillian is out the door, he scoots over, placing himself so close I can smell the rank heat of his body under his layers of proper clothing. No true country Fae wears such fancy clothes, but the mayor likes to pretend he’s going to the palace instead of running a small agricultural province.
“Now, my dear, have you given any thought to my proposal?”
I force myself to smile. I decide to go for simpering and brainless. “I have thought of little else.”
Since the moment the man—who could be my grandfather—blandly proposed marriage to me, I tried to think of anything but letting that old goat get his hands on me.
A sly smile crosses his face. “Well, then, shall we announce it tomorrow at the festival?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, sir. I don’t think I would make a good mayor’s wife. I’m a simple country girl.” I hoped for more time. I rather hoped the man would find a wife at court who suited him more. He spent the last two months there.
He shakes his head, reaching for my hand. His are clammy and soft, the hands of a man who never did an honest day’s work. “Not at all, my dear. You’re actually quite well educated. As is your sister. Your manners are far beyond a mere country girl. You have everything required to be an excellent wife for me. Once you’ve been cleaned up and are in proper attire, you’ll be quite pretty. You’ll fit right in. And I’m going places, Isolde. I spoke to King Torin himself. Our kingdom is changing. He’s bringing us back to our rightful place. The Vampire Government is going to acknowledge Torin as the rightful king.”