Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
When the regent is gone, the crowds drift in, trying to get the attention of the royal team. The orange team is also well admired, and I’m relieved that their leader is at least occupied by this. I’m too tired for another round of folly.
Prins Lief and his crew march away, and I catch a walnut zooming towards my face. I follow the path it took and find a dark eyed, devilish shadow in the treetops. I throw the nut back to the smirking vespertine with a murmur that I know Bastion will hear. “Shell it for me first.”
I hear his quiet chuckle on a breeze and move across the clearing to Akilah dropping off her leafy perch. “Meet me tonight,” I whisper as I pass her.
There’s a chill bite to the woods once the sun has sunk. Inky black has taken over the skies. My lantern swings on its stick, illuminating a small circle of shivering trees, and there—Akilah, huddled into a thick cloak, tucked on a branch of a sprawling chestnut with her own lantern between her feet.
I climb past her and up to higher branches; she silently follows until we emerge to a vast view of the starry night. We used to do this growing up, in trees or on rooftops. Stargazing, quietly being with one another, letting the worries of the world fall away.
“I missed you,” she says croakily.
My heart aches and I can only nod. It’s the same for me.
She sighs heavily, breath fogging towards the sky. “You left me on that island.” I tense, waiting for more. Expecting it. “I looked at you and you looked away. That’s the last I saw of you.”
I close my eyes on the stars.
“How could you . . .”
The words hang in the cold air and I shiver to the bone.
“Say something,” she chokes.
My sigh comes out quiet, tired, heavy.
She sniffs.
I swallow and look over at her. “I was afraid.”
“You weren’t the only one.”
I’ll have to hold this guilt forever. I left her to experience the wrath of the regent, the violent loss of her newest friend; I left her to suffer through my sudden demise. An apology feels too paltry. I rip off a bunch of leaves and squeeze them until juice trickles down my wrist. “I’ll live the rest of my life making it up to you.”
“Promise me.” Her gaze meets mine and her words shatter my heart. “Give up in the third trial. Make sure Florentius wins.”
I slam my eyes shut and shake my head, pleading with sorrys, with the promise I’d do anything else. But when I reopen them, she’s gone. The stars have dulled above; clouds cover the moon, and the forest beneath me is swelling like a heavy sea. I climb down the tree, slipping and sliding and scratching myself. My world feels like it’s cracking open and I’m being dragged into an abyss.
I have to fix things with Akilah, somehow—
A gravelly male voice has me swinging around with my lantern. Florentius emerges from behind a trunk. I wonder how long he’s been there, and know deep inside he’s been there long enough.
Our gazes meet and I plead with him. “We have a plan to save them.”
“Your plan may backfire. My plan, all prisoners walk free.”
“Winning isn’t only about proving a point about non-linea healing—”
“Our king is a captive, trapped in Iskaldir,” Florentius says bluntly, “I know.”
“Then you must understand!”
“Our king has done nothing for me. I owe him nothing. Lucius is my life.”
I shake my head sadly and Florentius’s eyes flash with frustration. “When will you learn? You can’t do everything. You can’t save everyone. You’re full of lofty ideals but that is not our reality!”
He steps forward with a rush of emotion and I brace myself against it.
“Our reality is messy,” he bites out. “It’s grey. We all have to make choices: who lives, who dies. The regent, the king, you, me—we’re all just fighting to be the one who decides.” He steps in again, and this time my balance falters and I stumble back. His eyes fill with glassy tears. “I’ll always choose Lucius. I’ll always choose my brother.”
The knot in my throat thickens. “I’m choosing the poor, the non-linea, women . . . I’m choosing the bigger picture.”
He storms off, laughing, and it echoes ominously around the trees, hitting me over and over. “Don’t fool yourself.”
Trees swallow his elegant form until I’m left alone with my flickering lantern.
When it goes out, a rush of movement comes from the neighbouring tree, and I spy Bastion’s silhouette as he uses his whip and swings to land with quiet thud before me. “Need a hug?”
He tosses it out with a purposefully distracting leer, and I stare at him until his opened arms start falling. Then I’m tripping over the yard between us, throwing my arms around his neck and dropping my throbbing head on his shoulder. His breath hitches with surprise and he slowly lifts his hands to pat my back against a silent sob.