Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“I’m here of my free will,” he says with a shrug. “And I learned from you.”
It’s not praise or flattery, but a statement of fact. And it makes jealousy’s grip loosen a bit. I turn my face to the sky, relishing the sun, and ask, “Where are we? The Springlands?”
“Fellmoor,” he says. “The south. About a day’s ride from Siren’s Call.”
“I don’t know where that is. I’ve had no formal lessons. My mother attempted to teach me, but she abhorred books. If it couldn’t be learned from sinking my hands into the dirt, I didn’t need to know it.” I laugh fondly.
It’s the first time her memory hasn’t pricked at me like Luthian’s diabolical thorn vines. I’m shocked into silence.
“It is like a faery, isn’t it?” Firo muses to himself. “No matter. You won’t be asked to draw any maps at court.”
“No, I dare say my mind will not be what ensures my future.” I snort derisively, a cold feeling settling into the pit of my stomach. I don’t think of myself as particularly brilliant, and I’m certainly no conversationalist, having spent most of my life in the company of only my mother. It would be nice, though, to think that I could be valued for more than my beauty and Luthian’s teachings.
It would be nice, I think, for someone like Firo to believe I have such value.
“May I tell you a secret?” I ask.
His eyes narrow. “Secrets are currency among the courts. Are you so sure you wish to spend one of yours on me?”
I don’t see the harm, especially as he didn’t recognize the name of my enemy. “Cadwyn Thrace, the faery that killed my mother… I’m going to the court to seek my revenge.”
Firo tilts his head. “Go on.”
“My hope is to make powerful connections.” No need to tell him how powerful. “Then, when I have the means, I’ll destroy him.”
A smile widens Firo’s mouth. “You’re far more interesting now. Although, I wouldn’t mention your plan to anyone. Faeries don’t like to be manipulated. Especially by a human. And you never know what kind of allies a faery, even a solitary one, may have.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” And I’ll wonder endlessly if I should have told this to Firo.
“Humans can have allies, too, of course,” he says, lifting his face to the sun and blinking at the light.
“Are you suggesting that you might be mine?”
“That, lovely Cenere,” he says, looking to me with a lop-sided grin, “is not impossible.”
Chapter Thirteen
Time moved strangely through the next few weeks. It seemed to me, for a while, that I would be an ancient hag before we left for the Court of Pleasure and Torment. Now, though, I have the way of things. I rise in the morning and take my breakfast, usually with some wicked pleasure that Luthian has dreamed up. Then, it’s to my lessons. The afternoon is almost always concentrated on pain and endurance, but dinner and after is a time for all manner of sensual delights. Then, when the moon is high, I bathe and slink exhausted between the covers to start all over again the next day.
“I have a surprise for you.”
I’m seated on Luthian’s lap, eating the most sumptuous little roasted mushrooms he feeds me by hand. His dressing gown cannot disguise the leap of his cock against me when he says the words.
I notice that more now, too; his arousal in the early days always seemed perfunctory, a tool to be employed in teaching. Now, it is automatic; he genuinely wants me. I never mention it, as I don’t think he’ll like that I noticed.
I lift my brows as I swallow my last bite. “What have I done to earn a surprise?”
“You’ve been a very good student.” He pauses. “And it’s another lesson.”
I want to scowl. I pout instead. Pouting, he’s taught me, is playful and attractive, and often more effective than a frown.
He taps the end of my nose with his finger. “You’ll enjoy it. And it’s easy. Firo will do most of the work.”
I squeeze my thighs together. “I do love watching you work with Firo.”
“I knew you would. Are you still hungry?”
I shake my head.
He lifts his goblet of wine and presses it to my lips for a final drink. “Now, run along to your bedroom. Firo and I will be up soon.”
As I walk to my room, my mind spins. Firo has never been in my bedroom. We’ve always had our lessons in the library or the study. Once, in the garden.
But never my room.
I enter as Brujon leaves. I still haven’t discovered why she’s there or what her purpose is, when Luthian can run the entire household on magic. Even the brooms here are enchanted to sweep on their own.
“Good evening, Brujon,” I say with a courteous nod.
She mutters under her breath and bustles out.