Total pages in book: 362
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 347293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1736(@200wpm)___ 1389(@250wpm)___ 1158(@300wpm)
“Kolis is greeted as such out of fear.” Rhahar’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword. “And because he demands it. We address you as such because it is owed. Deserved.”
I started to argue that I hadn’t done anything as their Queen to deserve such, but Reaver tugged on the sleeve of my tunic.
“Yes?”
“You are respected,” he said in that quiet, far-too-wise voice for one as young as he was. “And Nek told me that acknowledging the thoughts and emotions of others is how you repay their respect with yours.”
I stared at the youngling, my lips pursing. The fact that a ten-year-old was giving me sage advice was probably a good indication that I had a lot of maturing to do.
“Okay,” I said, turning back to the two guards. “I won’t continue to complain.”
Rhahar ducked his chin, but not before I saw a look that said he didn’t quite believe that.
Couldn’t blame him.
I faced the other guard. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”
“No, we haven’t,” she said, her bright amber gaze meeting mine. “I’m Iridessa.”
“That’s a pretty name,” I said.
“Thank you.” Pink blossomed on her cheeks, spreading across the small bridge of her nose. She was clearly as good at accepting compliments as I was. “Some visitors are quite insistent that they speak with you.”
Rhahar’s expression hardened at once. “Who is it?” he asked before I could.
“It is the goddess Penellaphe,” answered Iridessa. “And a man named Ward.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
My summons had worked.
Kind of.
The goddess Penellaphe had not only spoken large portions of the prophecy, but she was also intimately involved with Holland, and Vikter Ward was, well, I wasn’t quite sure exactly what he was other than the first viktor—those who guarded someone the Fates believed would fulfill some purpose or bring about great change. Even mortals bound to commit terrible deeds could end up with a viktor, as messed up as that was, but the Arae used them to aid without upsetting their precious balance.
I still didn’t see how sending in a viktor didn’t upset the balance. Seemed like a loophole large enough that an entire kingdom could fall through it.
They weren’t Holland, but as Reaver—in his draken form—and I were led to a chamber in a wing of the palace opposite Ash’s office, I doubted their visit was coincidental.
Iridessa brought us to the space near the chamber that Jadis had almost burned down—one I doubted had been used in decades. I couldn’t help but think about how Ector used to keep them clean despite their lack of use so Eythos could be remembered.
I supposed hiring someone to keep them clean was a way we could honor Ector.
As Iridessa opened the double doors and then stepped aside, bowing toward me before taking her leave, I swallowed the knot of sadness before it could expand.
Two figures sat on the ivory-cushioned settee. The male viktor placed something dark and square onto the thin table behind him as they rose. I wasn’t sure what it was, but my gaze immediately went to the goddess. It was impossible for it not to.
Penellaphe stood out in stark contrast to the bare shadowstone walls and sterile white furniture. Everything about her was vibrant. The gown reminded me of the blades of grass now growing in the Shadowlands. She had long, honey-hued hair and bronzed skin, and her sea-blue eyes were nearly the same as the man’s who had traveled with her.
Ward appeared as he had when he placed the charm on me, like a mortal who had seen several decades. Sending Reaver, who had flown in behind me, a wary look, he moved to stand beside the goddess.
They both began to lower themselves into deep bows. “You don’t need…” The skin below my ear began to tingle as I stared at the sandy-haired male. It happened so fast, I couldn’t even stop it. Thoughts began to form, coming together to answer what I hadn’t known moments before.
“You were created,” I blurted out.
Penellaphe’s head lifted slightly. “Excuse me?”
“Ward.” I gestured at him. “The Ancients created you. I mean, you were once mortal, but when you died and the Fates rewarded you, they created something entirely new out of you.”
“Er…” Penellaphe murmured, glancing toward where Iridessa and Rhahar stood.
Ward’s bowed head muffled his cleared throat. “Yes, that is correct.”
That was also basically what they had told me, but there was more. The viktors were something otherworldly, like the riders, neither god nor mortal, alive nor dead. But he was…he was different.
I walked closer, focusing on him as Reaver landed on the low table between the settees. Eather hummed through me as I locked on Ward. Images formed in my mind. I saw…I saw glimpses of his many lives in the mortal realm. Him with his charges—those he was sent to watch over. But he was… “You were never reborn.”