Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
My stomach plummets into the soft earth beneath my boots.
A line forms between Kendrick’s brows. “Who?”
But I already know, and I hold Georgie’s gaze when I say, “Crissa.”
Her smile wavers. “You know her?” Her gaze drops to my hand, still in Kendrick’s, as if to ask why we’re still touching if I know about his betrothed.
Kendrick’s hand tightens around mine. “You’re sure it’s her? Because we’ve been fooled before.”
“Hale . . .” Her gaze bounces back and forth between us. I can’t tell if she’s confused or upset or feeling guilty. “I’m sure.”
I pull my hand from Kendrick’s and lift my chin. He’s not mine. I’ve always known he’s not mine. “I’d like to see her.”
Georgie worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’re sure?”
“Jasalyn knows Crissa,” Kendrick explains. “Mordeus imprisoned them together.”
Her mouth forms a small O and then she nods toward the house. “Come this way, then.”
Moments ago, I was drinking in every detail of this place. The fields Kendrick grew up running through, the trees he probably climbed with his sister, the porch I can imagine his mother stepping onto to call them in for dinner. Now everything feels gray around me. I shouldn’t have let myself get so attached to him. Not when we both knew what was coming.
Yes, he said he plans to talk to the oracle about how he could have a future with me, but is it fair of me to want that from him? She is their queen, and he has dedicated his whole life to becoming their king.
The house is dark and cool, all the shades pulled with none of the wall sconces flickering. It smells like cinnamon tea and fresh bread, and for a beat I imagine a different reality—one where Georgie was as happy to meet me as she was to see her son, one where she invited us in and served us refreshments as she asked me endless questions about my life and relished the opportunity to get to know the woman her son loves. One where I was a welcome addition and not a problem.
I shake the image away before it can latch on to me and drag me into the darkness.
“How is she?” I ask.
“She’s back here,” Georgie says, leading us through the house. “Healthier now. She was weak when they brought her to me last month, but she’s grown strong with the opportunity to rest and heal.”
Kendrick’s steps slow until he falls back behind me, but I continue toward Crissa. Toward the reality I should’ve accepted a long time ago.
Kendrick’s mom knocks twice at the door and then opens it a crack. “Crissa? May we come in?”
“Of course.” The familiar voice sends me back to that dark dungeon I would’ve done anything to escape, back to a time when she was the only thing making me hold on.
Georgie pushes the door the rest of the way open, and Crissa comes into view, her long blond hair braided and twisted into a crown atop her head. Her eyes light up, and in a single breath, all my self-pity is forgotten beneath the joy of seeing my old friend. Kendrick saved me in those dungeons. But Crissa saved me first.
Crissa sets her book to the side and stands. “Jasalyn!”
I ignore the feel of Georgie’s and Kendrick’s eyes on me as I cross the room and Crissa and I embrace each other. She is stronger than the last time I saw her—that time she was so weak from using magic to help me survive.
“It is so good to see you,” she says, pulling back and beaming at me. “I knew you’d make it out of there.”
“Thanks to you,” I say, then chance a glance behind me. “And Kendrick.”
Crissa’s expression wavers, but she schools it into something unreadable when she gives her attention to her future king. “Hello, Hale. It’s good to see you are well.”
“Same, my queen.” His face reveals a jumble of emotions, but he lowers himself onto one knee and bows his head, and I feel it like a knife dragging through my gut.
The silence is so tense, it thrums through the room.
“Please stand, Hale,” Crissa says softly. “You never need to bow to me. The oracle named you as my equal.”
The way I spin and rush from the room is probably rude. It’s definitely unfair. But I’m going to be sick if I observe another second of this reunion.
Half an hour later, Kendrick finds me on the back porch, looking out toward the swaying fields of wheat.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I had no idea. I . . .”
I wrap my arms tighter around my chest, as if putting pressure on my aching heart might stop the hemorrhaging. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
He brushes my shoulder. I flinch, and he jerks his hand away. “She and I talked. I explained our plans to visit the oracle.”