Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Rapid footfalls chased me down. “My lady, you’re going the wrong way, silly. Your chambers are this way.” Aeris grasped my shoulders and spun me around. “Don’t worry. Talulla has gone ahead to prepare your feast. It will be waiting in your chambers, along with a fresh change of clothes. I’ll take you to your bath now.”
I didn’t know what to say as she led me past Eadaoin and her lover. He now had his sheathed sword in his hand, and was furiously fucking her pussy with the hilt. Something told me that wasn’t his commanding officer’s intention for the sword when they issued it to him.
Aeris led me down another circular hallway to a pair of double doors. Sweeping them open, she wasn’t there to catch my jaw when it fell.
“What... is this place?”
“Welcome, Queen Emiana.” Aeris passed through, holding her hands to the ceiling. “To Castle Riagin.”
I took a step, then another, then one more. Getting closer didn’t make it more real.
Days ago, I was forcibly confined in the most opulent, beautiful, richest palace in the faelands.
It was a steaming pile of dog shit next to Castle Riagin.
Everywhere I looked, were diamonds and gold.
Diamond chandeliers clung to the domed ceiling, raining rainbow rain on my slippered feet. Golden statues lined the wall—each a different immortalized fae-beast. Were they important people in Wind and Wild history? Did they have a real, documented, and celebrated history?
The strange, dark walls remained in this place, but somehow, it was a perfect contrast to the gaudy golden lounges, diamond pedestals, and deep plush carpet. It was normal and simple beside the obscene and jaw-dropping.
“What is all of this doing here?” I wheezed. Did Alisdair steal it? When? For a century, we’ve brought the fight to him. He’s never had the chance to raid Rajadom, Sarabai, Quatassa, or Lyrica. There’s never been a report of him plundering our wealth.
“All of this? Oh, you mean all of the statues and diamonds and gems? It is a bit much, but it serves a purpose. Castle Riagin is the exclusive employer of bird faeriken.”
“What does that mean?” I asked as she led me off again.
“They— Well, we,” she corrected. “Are overly attracted to shiny things. The urge to possess them only gets stronger as we—” Her jaw worked, but the words didn’t come out.
Of course. The cursed can’t speak of their affliction.
“Anyway, it led to a lot of thefts and tensions in the village, so in his wisdom, our lord and master brought all of us here, and hired us as his servants with free room and boarding. Now, when something shiny goes missing, it is no matter. It is still somewhere in the building.”
It was my turn to open my mouth, and say nothing. I had to admit that was an elegant solution. Also, a diplomatic and bloodless one. No other king would consider hiring a race of thieves to work in his palace, but he more than anyone should know they were suffering from a curse not of their making.
Aeris guided me down another hallway and up a set of stairs with golden banisters and cold, shiny marble pressing back against my feet. I didn’t know where she was taking me until we turned a corner, and found the door already open.
Hot, vanilla-scented steam wafted out, filling my nose and my mind with the memory of how long it’d been since I had a bath.
I crossed the threshold, stepping into a porcelain paradise. Waterfalls escaped from the ceiling, all feeding into a huge water basin sprinkled with rose petals. Candles flickered from dozens of golden perches, casting a warm glow over the sun-shielded space. A small half-wall designated the privy, and a large, porcelain lounge dominated the middle of the room. I assumed that was the place for me to stretch out and luxuriate in the heat and steam.
“This, Queen Emiana, is your private baths.”
“Please, don’t call me that. Emiana,” I clarified. “Call me—”
I tried saying my name. Nothing. I attempted a version of my name. Nothing. I even attempted my siblings’ names, but the clever, wretched curse didn’t let that leave my lips either. Too much of a giveaway to my true identity.
“Ana,” I burst out in frustration. “None of this my queen or my lady stuff. Just call me Ana.”
“I am deeply flattered, my lady, but I could never address you so informally.”
“But—”
“Come,” she barked, clapping her hands. “My lady requires her bath.”
That was the cue. Half a dozen attendants flooded the room, and descended on me.
My cries fell on unheeding ears as they stripped me, unwove the tiara from my borrowed hair, took my shoes, pulled down my underclothes, and deposited me on the lounge.
One of the attendants ran for the bucket beside the water basin, filled it, grabbed a bar of scented soap, and they commenced with scrubbing.