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)
Is it wrong to want to make him happy? To see him happy? Or am I breaking some unspoken rule of the game? I wish I knew more about his world and why I was chosen to be his companion instead of someone here.
Our walking brings us back to the inn, and Kalos carefully adjusts the hood over his silvery hair again. I’m a little sad to see our walk has come to an end. “I guess we should go inside.”
“You are no doubt hungry,” Kalos agrees. “And then you will sleep and mutter things about horses in the walls.”
I smother another laugh, because it does sound completely ridiculous when he says it like that. “I can’t help it! In my dreams, it’s all very real.”
He grunts. “Nothing like a bit of screaming to make the evening restive.”
I chortle despite myself.
We head in and arrange lodgings with surprising ease. We head upstairs to our room. I’m delighted when, a few moments later, a a tray full of fresh, hot food is delivered. The scents are incredible and my mouth waters. Dingle heads for the tray, and I have to push his nose aside before he knocks it over. “This looks amazing. You never get hungry?”
“Never.” He moves to the rickety chair by the hearth and sits down, adjusting his robes. “They want us to be a bit mortal, but not too mortal, I suppose, so we don’t decide to stay.”
“Why would you stay?”
His gaze lingers on me. “Why indeed?”
My face feels hot, my body tingling. My mouth feels dry, and I can’t think of what to say next, so I grab the tray and set it down on the bed, then move to sit beside it. There’s a delicious smorgasbord of offerings, from pulled chicken to slices of fruit, to a huge loaf of crusty bread. There’s a soup that smells amazing, and what looks like cooked carrots drizzled in honey. I fish out one of the carrots and offer it to Dingle, so someone can enjoy this feast with me, and I dig into the soup. It tastes like warm spices and lentils, and I want to eat all of it. “This place is nice,” I say, changing the subject. “I wouldn’t mind staying here a while.”
“Mm.” Kalos watches me feed another carrot to Dingle. “I will leave it up to you.”
Because he’s Apathy or because he wants to make me happy? I devour more of the soup and between bites, I ask him, “Is there any place you like? Anyplace you’d want to visit? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do what I want to do.”
“You don’t?” A hint of a smile teases at his mouth again. “You have been telling me what to do since I met you, Elsie.”
The soup is making a syrupy warmth spread through my veins. I must be more tired than I thought, because bed is looking mighty tempting. My stomach demands its due, though. I finish the soup and attack the bread, using it to mop up the last bits in the bowl. “I’m just used to taking care of people, I guess.”
“Because that is how you show your affection. You charge in and try to make things easier for those around you, but it doesn’t make it easier for you, does it?”
I yawn, contemplating the fruit. “I guess? I figure I’ll have time to relax when everyone I love is taken care of.”
“And is that what you are doing with me? Taking care of me?” Kalos’s voice grows quiet, intense. “Adding another notch to your martyr belt?”
I don’t know how to answer that. My brain is fuzzy with exhaustion. “That’s…not nice.” My tongue feels heavy. How strange. “I’m not a martyr.”
“How do you feel about me, Elsie? I am very curious. You do not seem like the type to fawn over a god simply because he has power.” He leans forward in his chair, all glittering eyes and fascination. “Tell me.”
I yawn again, contemplating my answer.
“Don’t fall asleep before you tell me,” he prompts.
I want to point out that I’ve never fallen asleep mid-conversation, unlike him, but it feels like too much effort. I manage to focus my thoughts enough to answer. “I like you, Kalos. But I’m not here to fall in love…”
As I speak, Dingle collapses at my feet.
Alarm races through me, and I jump up at the same time Kalos does. The room tilts dizzily around me as Kalos moves to the goat and gently cradles his head. How sweet, I think, even as my thoughts seem to be turning into the same warm syrup that’s flooding my veins. He really does love that goat.
He looks up at me. “There was something in the food. Elsie—”
Was there? Huh.
The floor rushes up to meet me. I’m vaguely aware of slamming into the flooring, of gentle hands picking me up and cradling me.