Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 205594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1028(@200wpm)___ 822(@250wpm)___ 685(@300wpm)
“But where am I?” I stay out of reach behind the bars on the door, just in case. “My name is Princess Candromeda Vestalin, and I’m looking for Prince Nemeth of the First House. He’ll be looking for me as well.”
The guard’s eyes narrow at me and he sneers. “So you’re royal, huh?”
“I am.” I try to look as dignified as possible.
“What if I told you all the royal wenches from Lios were busy sucking cock down at the barracks? You still going to claim to be royal?”
My eyes go wide. Royal wenches? In the barracks? “W-what?”
“You heard me. Still claiming to be a princess?”
I say nothing.
“Good. Now if you want your food, you’ll be silent, won’t you?”
My stomach growls and I decide that maybe it is best to say nothing for now. I cross my arms over my chest protectively and glare, keeping to the shadows of my cell. He can come in anytime he likes, I realize, because a Fellian can move through shadows. I take another step back, twitching, in the hopes that my movements look erratic enough that he won’t teleport in and bother me.
What if I told you all the royal wenches from Lios were busy sucking cock down at the barracks?
That’s a lie. I know it’s a lie. There are no “royal wenches” other than myself and my sister, because Lionel had no siblings and Meryliese is dead. but I’ve got enough sense to know that I don’t want to push him. No one here believes I’m a princess anyhow. It won’t do me any good.
And I’m starving. So hungry that my stomach feels hollow and painful. I need to eat, or I’m going to become dizzy and sick. Well, sicker, considering I’m going to get sick anyhow if I don’t get my medicine soon. “I would like to eat.”
“Oh would you?” he sneers. “What a fine lady you are. Remember that here, you’re nothing but a slave.”
I don’t respond. Nothing I say is going to make a difference. I could tell him that I’m Candra Vestalin all day long and he’s not going to believe me. Candra Vestalin should be inside the tower, after all, resolutely fulfilling her duty to mankind and the goddess, and I’m the wretched creature that ran from it.
He grunts at my silence and then disappears in a flare of smoke. A moment later he returns, looping a skewer full of mushrooms onto a hook just outside my cell’s “window” and sets a stone cup outside on a ledge. “Your food, lady.”
The guard emphasizes the word as if I’m lying. “I need medicine, too. I have to take it every day.”
His reaction isn’t what I expect. Instead of sneering at me, his eyes widen. He grabs a length of material loose around his neck and immediately covers his mouth with it as he takes a step back. “You’re sick?”
“No, of course not.” His alarmed reaction has me worried and I decide to lie. “For my woman’s time.”
The look the guard shoots me is both one of relief and irritation. “Eat your food, female. If I catch you acting up, this’ll be the last meal you get for a while. Understand?”
I nod. I hate being such a weakling, but I’m no use to anyone if I’m too sick to function. Nemeth needs me—and the baby—alive and well. So I wait in silence until the guard gives me one last glare and leaves. Then, I reach through the bars and grab the skewer with the loop at the end, pull it off of the hook, and drag it into my cell. The mushrooms were grilled hours ago and are cold, but they remind me of Nemeth’s mushroom farm back in the tower, and those were always delicious. I gobble them down like a mannerless child and then lick my fingers. The mug is full of cold water and I drain it, too, then replace the dishes in their spot and retreat to my pallet.
Laying down, I listen to the noises of the cells around me. There’s a woman crying somewhere. A cough. A low murmur of voices. They all sound female, except for the occasional barked command of the guard, who’s male and Fellian. There’s no sunlight around here, and few of the magic lights that lined the walkways as I was dragged inside. I don’t know how deep I am in Darkfell.
I don’t even know if I’m still in Darkfell. How will Nemeth ever find me?
Pressing a hand to my forehead, I fight back frustrated tears. I just have to survive. He’ll come for me. He will. He won’t stop hunting until he finds me, because I’d do the very same for him.
Even so, I’m frightened.
“Psst.”
The sound is so low I’m not sure I hear it at first.
“Psst.”
I turn on my side, staring at the brick wall next to my shoulder, where the hissing sound is coming from. A finger wiggles through a crack in the mortar.