Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
I grab her hand before her finger can touch my face. “A dab of what?”
She gives me a curious look. “Lead. All the latest cosmetics have it.”
Shaking my head, I give her an apologetic smile. “It’s okay. I think I’ll skip it for now.”
“If you say so. Maybe just pinch your cheeks a bit more for color.”
I do, and peer into the mirror one last time before I leave my room. I look good. Composed and no longer disheveled. Kalos watches from a chair nearby as I get dressed, smirking at the level I’m going to. “You know you’re not going to impress Belara no matter what you do?”
“I don’t care about her. I just know I’ll feel more confident if I don’t look as if I’ve been sleeping on a street corner for the last month.” Which, prior to Omos, I had been.
“She’s not a threat,” he reassures me with a lazy smile. “I’m not interested in her in the slightest.”
I pause, absorbing that. “And is that Lies speaking?”
Kalos’s expression twists. “You know better, Elsie. The only one that interests me is you, and I can’t look away from you.” He uses the tip of his boot to push my heavy skirts up, as if trying to get a glimpse of my ankles. “And I’m feeling much better about Lies, today. It’s not tangling my tongue at all.”
I move away with a snort of dismissal. He’d say that if he was lying, so I take everything with a mild grain of salt. Not that I think Kalos wants to deliberately deceive me. He might be downplaying Belara as a threat. I recognized that covetous look on her face, though. She might not want him as a lover, but she absolutely wants him to still be in love with her. It’s probably stinging her pride that he’s no longer interested.
Something tells me that Belara isn’t a goddess that takes wounds to her pride very easily. Pushing our meeting off until this morning likely didn’t help things, but I have no regrets. I feel prepared today, ready to go to battle. “Remind me, what’s our goal in meeting with her?”
“See what she wants? Soothe her if she attempts to punish the locals?”
Right. I’m reminded that Kalos isn’t interested in meeting with her, exactly. He’s more interested in keeping me happy, and he knows I won’t be if Belara throws a tantrum and razes the nearest village. I’m struck with affection for him. My prickly, apathetic, clever lover. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good man?”
“Ugh. No.”
“Well, you are.” I beam at him.
“Don’t let that get out or I’ll never hear the end of it.” Kalos gets to his feet and offers me his arm. “Ready to confront the pettiest creature in a dozen realms?”
“Ready,” I agree. This will be fine, I decide. We’ll flatter Belara a little, listen to her without promising anything, and head out, back to Omos’s monastery and back to work on my book, if that’s all right with Kalos. He’s been a little cagey about what comes next, but that’s the Aspect of lies settling into his skin. We’ll take it day by day.
As long as we’re together and he’s safe, that’s all that matters.
Downstairs, Belara and her Anchor are already occupying the dining hall. I can hear the clatter of utensils as we approach. The hall is long and narrow, with several candelabras set into the wall to provide light, as there are no windows on this side of the house. It doesn’t matter that the room is dark, because Belara seems to glow from within, she’s so radiant. Her scarlet hair shimmers, the perfect waterfall of it pooling at her dainty feet. She wears a filmy peach dress with no sleeves, the only straps holding it in place a few artfully placed silver chains. Earlier, I’d felt like an elegant princess in my heavy brocade dress with the puffed sleeves, and now I feel like a frump. Ugh, I hate her.
Seated next to her at the table is the younger girl I’d seen her with yesterday. She can’t be much more than twelve, I don’t think, and there’s a youthful sweetness to her round face. Her dark skin is perfection, her thick curls elegantly pulled into a jeweled net, and her dress looks very similar to mine. The expression on her face is friendly as she regards us. An array of food is placed on the table in front of her, all half-eaten. She grins at me as we enter, forking an entire silver-dollar-sized pancake into her mouth.
“Looks like you have to share now, my darling,” Belara says in a sweet voice. “Make a plate for our friends, won’t you?”
“Of course,” the girl says. She indicates I should sit next to her, probably so we can share the food. Kalos pulls the chair out for me. I sit down in the spot at the other Anchor’s side. My mouth waters at the sight of all the food before us. Ham, bacon, slabs of chicken breast, fresh fruit, toast, pancakes, berry tarts, and a variety of cheeses are spread out on a wooden platter. As I sit, she leans over. “My name is Fala.”