Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“Adira is under my protection,” he said with a raised voice and in a way that made it clear they did not need to know any more than that.
Adira looked up at him. She did not know what he had said, but she recognized the warning in his expression as his gaze swept the villagers.
Merek’s brow rose slightly. “Word reached us that the king traveled with a woman who cannot hear or speak.”
Dravic’s attention snapped back to him. “Word travels with remarkable detail in Driochmor.”
Merek shrugged. “People talk.”
“Apparently fairies do as well,” Dravic said.
“I heard that!” Fiora called out.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Questions Without Answers
A Precious Secret
They resumed walking.
The villagers no longer openly stared at Adira, though Dravic caught more than one curious glance in her direction.
“I understand their distrust of me—”
Merek stopped him. “Your grandda gave us many reasons not to trust the crown. We fought for Scotara in the Great War. Men and women from Driochmor left their families and fought beside yours. Many never returned.”
“Aye,” Dravic said, “many lives in Scotara were lost and many left with wounds that were hard to recover from, if at all. It was good those in the kingdom stood side by side. That unity, that courage and sacrifice is what won the war.”
Merek’s voice hardened. “You speak of unity. We came home believing what we sacrificed mattered. Then your parents died, and suddenly the people they fought beside looked upon us as enemies.”
Dravic felt the weight of the villagers’ stares differently now. He had thought he understood their distrust. He had not. Tharne would.
A man preparing for war would seek every weakness in the kingdom he intended to conquer, and Dravic had just walked directly into one his grandda had helped create.
“These people still belong to Scotara,” Dravic said.
Merek turned to him. “Aye.”
“But belonging to Scotara and being willing to die for it again are not the same thing.”
Merek stared at him for a long moment. “Nay, my king. They are not.”
Dravic looked around Thorskaill once more. He had had no plans to come to Driochmor, but fate had thought otherwise and he was glad fate had.
He was beginning to understand that before he could ask these people to stand with him, he would first have to prove he was not King Halric—and that Scotara was still worth standing for.
Merek led them to the cottage he had promised them, a small stone dwelling tucked beneath the sprawling branches of an enormous tree. The thick limbs stretched over the roof as if protecting it, and even in winter tiny silver leaves clung stubbornly to them.
“The cottage will serve you well for the night,” Merek said. “Food will be brought shortly.”
Dravic nodded. “My men?”
“Being settled as we speak.”
Dravic looked to Seger.
“I’ll see to them, my king.”
“And the guards.”
Seger nodded. “Already being posted.”
“Good.”
Merek took his leave and Seger followed not long after making certain no surprise awaited in the cottage for the king.
Dravic was glad to see it sat a comfortable distance from the neighboring cottages. Privacy had become a rare luxury since entering Driochmor, and tonight he wanted it.
Adira stepped past him when he motioned for her to enter and immediately felt the warmth of the room. A fire burned steadily in a wide stone hearth, filling the cottage with enough heat to chase away the cold that had settled into her during the long ride. A small table with two chairs stood near the hearth, and beyond it a narrow bed covered with thick blankets occupied the far wall. A washstand, several pegs for their cloaks and a wooden chest completed the simple furnishings.
Adira smiled. There was something comforting about the smallness of the cottage after being surrounded all day by warriors, villagers, and things she did not understand.
Dravic entered behind her and closed the door.
The latch dropped into place.
Adira turned at the sound and froze.
She had heard it. Not clearly enough to know what had caused it, but there had been a distinct sharp sound behind her.
Her gaze went immediately to the door.
Dravic was removing his cloak and did not notice.
Adira stared at the latch. Had that been it?
Her heart began to beat faster. She wanted to touch it. Lift it and let it fall again so she could discover if the same sound returned.
But Dravic would wonder why.
She forced herself to turn away. One thing at a time. She needed to understand one thing at a time.
Dravic hung his cloak on a peg, then reached for hers. Adira turned her back to him and allowed him to remove it from her shoulders. His hands lingered there after the cloak was gone.
She looked back at him. He was staring at her. The look in his eyes sent warmth rushing through her that had nothing to do with the fire.
All day he had wanted this. A closed door with no guards hovering nearby. No villagers watching. No king who needed to measure every word and action… only Adira.