Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Here goes nothing…
I step out of the carriage and stand on the step, waving to the crowd.
No one bows when they see me.
No one cheers.
Pure silence.
They just stare with the most unimpressed faces I have ever seen.
I suddenly feel very overdressed in my pink dress, golden ribbons, and carefully curled hair.
One filthy little boy points at me. “Is that the hostage?”
His mother grabs his arm and pulls him away. “Hush.”
“Is it true she sleeps on a bed made of jewels?”
“I said hush.”
I feel woozy as I cling to the carriage, wishing I was anywhere but here. Why couldn’t my grandfather have fixed that dreaded wall? Then, I wouldn’t have to be in this predicament. He could have sent Aunt Petunia to be held hostage by these savage wolves. Nobody liked her anyway.
The man at the head of the trumpeters comes forward, shaking Garrick’s hand. “I am Oren, coinmaster of Varkhar.”
He is the coinmaster? Him? He is dressed like a peasant with ripped, tattered clothes. The coinmaster of Aurevale has a silk cloak stitched with over one hundred rubies. The washing rags in the kitchen look better than the outfit of this coinmaster. Unbelievable.
The man walks straight past me without so much as a glance.
I am quickly beginning to understand that princesses are not nearly as impressive here as they are in Aurevale.
“Three wagons?” Oren asks.
“Three wagons,” Garrick confirms.
“Where is the gold?”
My head is spinning as Garrick throws off the canvas, revealing chests and barrels of precious gems and gold coins.
“This is stamped Aurevalian coin?” Oren asks, inspecting the chests.
“Of course.”
“And where are the jewels?”
“In all three.”
I’m still standing on the step of the carriage, higher than everyone else. A few people are still looking at me, but most of the others are more interested in the glittering gold and jewels in the wagons. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that these people have never seen a real gem in their entire lives.
“Nothing leaves the courtyard until it has been counted, weighed, and recorded,” Oren says to his men who start unloading the chests.
I step down onto the uneven stone, suddenly wishing I was wearing my riding boots instead of these pink silk slippers. They’ll be ruined before I step into the castle. Mother would be horrified.
“Oren,” Garrick says when the coinmaster is satisfied that all of the agreed-upon riches are present and accounted for. “Allow me to introduce you to Princess Vaela.”
He looks me up and down dismissively. “You will get your own room. Three meals a day.”
“If it’s not too much to ask, I would like a feather bed with silk sheets,” I say.
He scoffs rudely. “It’s too much to ask. You will get a straw mattress like everyone else.”
My mouth drops. “Straw?”
His eyebrow raises as his mouth curls up in delight.
“But I will have my own bathing room with a tub, right?”
I can tell from the way he’s grinning that I won’t like the answer.
“You will bathe in the Blood River like everyone else.”
I nearly faint. The river? With everyone else? He can’t be serious…
My stomach drops as I turn to Garrick.
“Garrick…” I whisper. “Please…”
He steps forward and swallows me in his big comforting arms. “You’ll be okay, Princess,” he whispers. “I’ve never met anyone as strong and spirited as you.”
“Are you leaving?” I ask, feeling panic taking over. “Already?”
He looks sad to see me go with his lowered shoulders and downturned face. “I’m afraid so, Princess. It’s been my honor looking after you all these years.”
He drops to his knee and bows to me one last time. As soon as he stands, I leap on him, wrapping my arms around him in a hug I never want to release.
“Be strong,” Garrick whispers, peeling my arms off him. “Make your parents proud. Make Aurevale proud.”
I fight back tears and stand up straight, nodding to the man who’s kept me safe my entire life. “I will.”
He nods sadly and gets back to the wagons as Oren guides me to the large doors.
The wolf guards are unloading the chests full of my possessions, and being unnecessarily rough with them. I bite my tongue when I see one ruffian toss my chest of dresses onto the ground. A young boy leads my horse away. I hope it’s toward the stables and not toward the kitchen.
My sadness and panic turn to impatience and anger. I’m suddenly realizing how bad my situation is and I’m not happy about it.
“Do the Kings of Varkhar not present themselves when a royal arrives?” I ask, barely able to hide the venom in my tone as we walk. What kind of manners do these barbarians have?
“Excuse me, Princess,” Oren says with an overly friendly smile, which I’m picking up as sarcasm. “They are very busy protecting our kingdom, and yours, from the Hollowborn.”
“Of course,” I say, swallowing my pride and indignation. “Perhaps I shall meet them later.”