Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1) Read Online Gena Showalter

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Book of Arden Series by Gena Showalter
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
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“Good evening, Victors,” Cyrus said, pulling out a chair for me.

“Nice to see you again, High Prince Dolion.” The leader of the Soalians studied me as I eased down. “I’m glad to see someone has manners. Hospitality has been in short supply here.”

“Be sure to give me a detailed list of your complaints.” Cyrus claimed the chair next to mine. Taking his own advice, he evinced zero emotion. “You told me you allowed yourself to be captured for a chance to speak with Miss Roosa. Here she is.”

What! The opening bombshell landed like a hard punt to the gut. Not that I believed the Soalian had willingly surrendered, but being listed as the sole reason blew my mind.

“No, I allowed myself to be captured for a purpose,” the prisoner corrected. “Speaking to her is a bonus.”

Well okay then. I could breathe again. Barely.

“Did you tell her about the intercepted messages? You did, didn’t you?” A slow smile spread as Mr. Victors leaned forward. He tapped his fingertips against the tabletop. “I knew you would.” His gaze shifted to me. “Just as I know you spent time in the library, reading a portion of your book. Unless you just imagined it. In which case, you don’t have a date with mine carts.”

I jolted, expecting protests from those listening in. Rapid-fire queries. Something. Seconds ticked by in silence, no orders forthcoming.

“No need to worry, Miss Roosa,” Mr. Victors said. “They can’t understand my words. Not all of them, anyway.”

I snorted. Yeah. Right. The Soalian had spoken in English. Although, yes, there had been a slight twang to some of his pronunciations. I hesitated only a moment before swinging my gaze to Cyrus to gauge his reaction. His blank mask remained firmly in place.

Leaning into him, I whispered, “Do you comprehend what he’s saying?”

The HP turned his face to mine and searched my eyes. “Do you? He’s alternating between English and an unknown language.”

What! I jerked my focus to Mr. Victors. “How do I understand you when others can’t?”

“How do you think?”

I didn’t know! Tick tock. No mental mazes. “Did you read a portion of the book?” I asked, being careful of my phrasing.

Mr. Victors lifted his shoulders, giving the semblance of a shrug. “Not yours, but mine. Tomes intersect as lives do. But I prefer the tales depicting my past. That’s how we learn.” His head canted thoughtfully. “Do you like to learn, Miss Roosa?”

“I do. In fact, I’d love to learn why you requested to speak with me specifically.”

“Who wouldn’t want to speak with the much-desired wife of the high prince? Though I suppose you are merely his future much-desired wife at this point.”

Excuse me? “I’m not . . . that isn’t . . .” Heat scorched my face. He was lying. Obviously. Trying to get a rise out of me. And it was working!

Tension radiated from Cyrus, and I could only pray he hadn’t understood those particular words.

“Explain what you think I bring to the table,” I demanded of the prisoner. “Tell me why I deserve such a valuable resource when I’m not married to anyone and I have no plans to change that.”

“Do you see no worth in yourself?” Mr. Victors reclined in his chair as much as the chains allowed. “Either way, the answer is simple. Soal asked, and we acted. And your darling HP isn’t the reason.”

I waggled my jaw.

“I read your paper, you know,” Mr. Victors said. “The essay meant to win over your dream college. Such passion for your subject is an inspiration.”

Oh, look. Someone else attempting to use my paper as a manipulation tool. I admit, though, I admired his confidence. His ability to steer a conversation. To intimidate while remaining unflappable. His peace hadn’t wavered for a nanosecond.

“Does Soal require a gardener?” It was as good an explanation as any, I supposed. And yes, it was a temptation unlike any other. To get my hands on the flowers growing atop the Rock . . . No! Focus.

The glower grinned a little. “Sitting here, speaking with you, I’m reminded of a time I found a pritis stone. It was so dirty, I almost tossed it. Had I done so, I would’ve lost the key to my own rescue, simply because I didn’t recognize its value.”

I guess I was the dirt-crusted stone in this scenario. “I thought the maddened hated those stones.”

“They do. Soalians hate that Cured misuses them. Of course, you have no idea what they are because you filter everything through their ocean of lies.”

“Enlighten me, then. Correct my wrong assumptions. Help me understand your truth.”

For the first time, he demonstrated a thread of anger. “It isn’t my truth but the truth.”

Anger blasted from Cyrus, too, but he said nothing.

“Enlighten me,” I reiterated.

Mr. Victors drummed his fingers against the table. “Give me a second to remember my serious face, so I don’t accidentally lighten the gravity of the moment.” As he experimented with different facial expressions, I bit my tongue.


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