Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“I can’t explain it. He made me smile. I’d light up inside. I’d want time to pause so I could have him with me longer.”
“You’re saying you’ve forgiven him?”
“Do you forgive me for it?”
Quin speaks slowly, as if still deliberating. “If he could hear you, I’m sure he’d be relieved to know your feelings.”
“What about your feelings?”
Quin laughs hollowly.
“I used to think you . . .” Nicostratus shakes his head. “Then I thought you must resent him. Now you’re curious about his akla. . . . You’re not filled entirely with hate.”
“I’m not filled with hate.”
Nicostratus lets out a long breath. “It’s a weight off my chest. I can go on without feeling guilty.”
I shut my eyes.
Quin murmurs, “Travel safely.”
“If the day comes when you need me, brother . . . know I’ll be there.”
My chest tightens as I watch him leave, his red cloak disappearing through the doorway. Something about his words, his tone, sits uneasily in my chest. I glance at Quin, but his expression is unreadable.
When his footsteps have long faded, Quin says, “Come out.”
I slip onto the same chair Nicostratus had sat on. It’s still warm. A soft ache fills my chest. The silence between us is heavy, Nicostratus’s presence still palpable.
I open my mouth to speak and press my lips tight again.
“Say it,” Quin demands.
I point toward the screen where I’d been hiding. “Why don’t we tell him? He’s played out his natural reaction to my death. He’s made it look real to the royal city . . .”
Quin’s fingers curl around the arm of his chair. “I needed to gauge his situation. Need to make sure knowledge of your continued existence won’t hurt him, or you.”
“Did you gauge it?”
“I’m confident he’ll keep your secret and be safe doing so.”
“You can see how much he’s hurting; how much he’s missing me . . .” I choke on my words.
A pained expression flickers over Quin’s face and he quickly masks it. “I could have revealed you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Quin speaks simply, “I like having you to myself.”
“Quin . . .”
A sharp look. “You must have some idea how I feel about you.”
I expel air in a rush. I recall the royal city, asking him if he had feelings for me, his responding outrage. “You told me I was being arrogant.”
“That you were arrogant. Not that you were wrong.”
“Your brother—”
“Is he really the one you love?”
I swallow. His gaze is firm on mine, insistent. Tightness pulls at my chest. My breathing alters, uneven. “I . . .”
“Is he?”
“Yes!”
Quin sinks back with a huffed laugh before growing quiet. He doesn’t look at me, but it feels like all his awareness surrounds me, analysing my every shift.
“If you’re certain,” he says finally, sitting upright like he might be talking to any of his subordinates, “forget this conversation.”
I swallow, stomach uneasy with . . . with guilt.
Quin waves his hand, a clear dismissal. “I’ll tell him the truth about you in Hinsard.”
“You are my friend.”
His snaps his gaze to mine. “Don’t console me. These feelings came unwanted; they’ll go easily enough.”
“I don’t want things to be awkward.”
“Lean in!”
I buckle over the desk before him.
He flicks my forehead. “I’m past it already.”
It’s to this scene that Bastion and his men enter the office. Quin swiftly shifts his attention to them, while I slump back to my stool with clammy palms and butterflies. Ticklish . . . relief.
“. . . calculations. As long as we’re careful, the food should last.” Bastion is a whir of movement as he draws out a short sword and points it at the king. His men unhook their whips and they unfurl to the floor at the ready.
I leap to my feet, knocking over my stool, and snatch Bastion’s sword-wielding arm.
“Let go,” he snaps at me.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
He answers, staring hard at the king, who hasn’t so much as flickered. Almost like he expected this. “Now that everything is under control, we have scores to settle.”
“Is it not enough your men have been saved?”
He tries to shake me off, but I wrap myself around his arm. He looks at me and jerks his arm so I fall inwards, face to his face. He bares a toothy grin. “Feisty too. You’ll be fun.”
I don’t let his schmoozing shake me off. I grit my teeth and hold on. “Do you have no honour?”
“He has the good will of the townspeople. It’s not enough to pay for decades of neglect.” He looks over at the king. “If the gates open and you get away, they’ll be relieved for a few weeks, but then they’ll see nothing else has changed. Our stores will keep being taken for the benefit of the royal city, leaving us scraping by for food, for herbal supplies, for medicinal help. The magistrates who abandoned us will return to their costly homes and their wasteful consumption. All on the backs of us.”