Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 110079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“No.”
Both Shey and Luca stared, dumbfounded, at Tyche. The little devil never lost his grin.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no. I’m going with you to meet with Queen Noemi.” Tyche took a step closer, tilting his head up so that he was teasing Shey with those pouty lips. “You will not tuck me away in some fancy room while you run off to save the world. I might not be all that handy with a sword or a gun, but you need me.”
Shey lifted a hand and gently grasped Tyche’s narrow jaw. “Yes, I do need you.” He ran his thumb along Tyche’s cheek, marveling at the determined glitter in his bright-green eyes. After a lifetime of being surrounded by shades of blue, he’d never realized that green had become his favorite color. “You won’t let me keep you safe, will you?”
Those precious eyes softened. “I’ve lived a very, very long time without your protection. I think I can manage without it a bit longer.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t have me dragging you into danger either.”
Tyche shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. Now, let’s go see Mommy.”
“Sadist.” Shey might have muttered it, but Tyche still heard him and cackled. He released Tyche’s jaw before he gave in to temptation to kiss the breath out of him. “Luca, let’s meet in my study after my chat with my mother.”
After snagging Tyche’s hand, he pulled the giggling god through the long halls. All thoughts of showing off the elegance of the palace were long gone. His primary concern was trying to keep Tyche out of trouble.
“Are you sure you’re not the God of Mischief?”
“Really, Shey, I didn’t do it. I might have wanted to, but I do have some self-restraint.”
They paused outside the double doors to his mother’s study and Shey turned to face Tyche, still holding his hand. “Well, try to use some of it with my mother. I doubt she’s likely to be amused by anything right now.”
Tyche’s playful expression smoothed out, and he became serious. “I will. I promise. No more fooling around.”
Shey leaned down and captured Tyche’s lips in what was supposed to be a quick kiss, but at that exact moment, the double doors opened, putting him and Tyche on full display for his mother, who sat behind her grand desk in the center of the room.
Fuck.
The only good thing was that there were none of the usual ministers, chancellors, or even generals meeting with her. Just her advisor, who had been the one to open the door.
“Your Highness,” Merriwether Dalton greeted crisply, her pencil-thin eyebrows leaping up to her steely gray hairline.
Shey straightened and smiled, but it was simply a baring of his teeth. “Ms. Dalton.” He tightened his grip on Tyche’s hand and pulled the God of Luck into the office. He’d planned to release Tyche’s hand prior to entering, but in for a penny…
Glancing over, he noticed that Tyche’s face wasn’t mischievous any longer, and he’d paled. At least it was obvious he hadn’t wanted to be introduced quite this way either.
“That will be all, Ms. Dalton. I would like to speak to my son…and his companion…alone.”
Ms. Dalton wiped her face of any expression and bobbed a curtsy to the queen before exiting the room. By the time the doors shut behind her, the queen was out of her chair and crossing to her son. Shey released Tyche’s hand so he could wrap his arms around his mother, squeezing her tight in reassurance.
“I’m okay. I swear, I’m okay.” His words were soft and muffled against her shoulder. She was wearing a black blouse and a long black skirt. It was the only color he’d seen her wear since the death of his father. He had vague memories of her in soft pastels when he was younger. He was certain his mother hadn’t owned a single item of clothing that was black prior to the king’s death.
“Shey, you scared me to death.” There was a slight tremor in her hands as she gripped him. During his brief stop in Sirelis to change boats, he’d spent a couple of hours with his mother but hadn’t glimpsed his sister. He’d explained what he could, but he knew deep down that it wasn’t enough to answer all his mother’s questions and chase her fears away.
She also hadn’t gotten the chance to meet Tyche.
“I’m okay,” he repeated, willing to say it a hundred times if it eased her worries. “I’m sorry for this mess with New Rosanthe, but the dragons were amazing. You’ve got to make the trip to the Isle of Stone.”
She scoffed and relaxed her grip. She took a small step back and lifted her head to look him in the eye. “If they’re all like Haru, I don’t think I’m prepared to meet the dragons.”
A choked laugh sounded behind Shey, followed by a rough throat-clearing. His mother raised a questioning eyebrow. That was all she needed to do. One little glance and it was like being hit with a thousand questions at once.