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)
I lunge for the Sword of Fire, prepared to wrestle it from his grasp if he reaches it before me, but Erith flinches away from its unyielding flame. I exploit his hesitation. Wrapping my raw and blistered fingers around the flaming hilt, I make myself think of the bedroom at Fherna’s house. My hand is nothing but red-hot, searing pain, and when Erith’s magic sweeps in to retrieve the fiery sword, I can’t hold on. I roll through the portal even as consciousness fades.
Chapter Sixteen
Felicity
I almost feel sorry for Ezra. He’s spent his whole life trying to get out from his brother’s shadow and prove himself to his father. One memory of a family hunting trip was enough to understand what makes him tick better than weeks of observation ever could.
“What if he changes his mind and doesn’t go to meet her?” I ask Misha as I adjust my tunic for the third time in as many minutes. I underestimated the size of Ezra’s shoulders when I picked out the clothes I’d wear, and the too-narrow fit across my shoulders is making me feel pinned in.
“Skylar is prepared to meet him, and she’ll let me know when he arrives.”
“I still can’t believe you talked her into dressing as Jasalyn’s handmaid.”
Misha smirks. “Does she always have such a temper?”
“Oh, always. That’s just Skylar being Skylar.”
“There it is,” Misha says, nodding to the gates ahead.
“It’s bigger than I expected.”
“Abriella says they guard their wealth more fiercely than Mordeus guarded the throne.”
I roll my eyes. “Of course they do.”
He gets a strange look on his face for a beat, then smiles. “Skylar says he’s there. She’ll let him wait a few minutes before going in to tell him the princess is running behind. Ready?”
I nod, but I’m not. Even with all the coaching I’m still not convinced I can walk into this manor in the middle of the night and walk out with an invaluable magical stone.
“I’ll be close—just keep yourself open to me. Share what you’re seeing and I’ll guide you.”
“Okay.”
Misha gives me one last look before riding away. He’ll loop around to the back side of the manor and stay there in case anything goes wrong.
With a breath, I spur my horse ahead. When I reach the gates, I wave to the guards without slowing down.
“Back so soon?” the younger-looking of the two bald males asks.
“I forgot something,” I say, hoping Ezra isn’t the kind of person to never speak to the help.
“Flowers,” the other calls to my back. “If you want to win her heart, take her flowers.”
“Or jewelry,” the first says. “Females enjoy jewelry.”
This time I don’t respond but head through the gates and to the front stairs. I hop off my horse and toss the reins to the sentinel standing there.
“Shall I take this to the stable for you, young lord?” he asks.
“I’ll be right back out,” I promise, striding up the steps, my heart pounding as hard as if I’d run here.
You’re doing fine. Misha’s voice in my mind steadies me. When you get through these doors, you’ll see a hall to the right. Go down to the end and take a left.
The doors open for me, revealing Ezra’s brother, Leon, waiting on the other side. “Why are you back already? She didn’t show, did she?”
I did not count on him sharing the meeting with his brother, Misha says in my mind.
Me either, but I can’t change that now. “I forgot something,” I say. Then, remembering how the brothers treated each other in the memory, I brush right past him and stroll down the hall.
Where am I going, Misha? I can’t exactly get the stone while he’s following me.
Next right is a sitting room with a small bar. Go in there, pour yourself a drink, and sit down. See if you can shake him.
When I turn into the room in question, Leon follows me, chuckling when I pour myself a glass of amber liquid from the decanter at the bar. “You are such a coward. You can’t face her without drinking your face numb.”
He is really the worst, I tell Misha. No wonder Ezra’s so desperate for a way out.
I throw myself into the chair and glare at Leon over my glass. “Don’t you have somewhere better to be?”
“Look at you sitting there when the princess is waiting for you. What’s wrong, brother? Worried you won’t be able to perform?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter. The empty phrase was one of Ezra’s favorite defenses against his family in my dream memory.
The amusement falls from Leon’s face. “You were lying the whole time, weren’t you? You never had a meeting with the princess. You just wanted me to think you’d bed her, so I’d stay back.”
This is going to be a mess when Ezra returns and has no memory of this conversation, Misha mutters in my mind.