Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“General,” the man said with a bow of his shaved head. “You were successful, I see.”
Constantine grunted behind her as he swung down off of the massive horse. “Depends on what you consider success, Evander.”
Evander glanced up at Kerrigan, still seated atop Melidonna. “She looks just like one of them.”
“Indeed,” Constantine said. He held his hands up, as if to help her down.
She ignored him, slung her foot into the stirrup that was at least a foot shorter than her height, and landed defiantly on her feet.
Constantine huffed. “Good.”
As soon as she was off the horse’s back, the two boys hurried forward to take her away, presumably to the stables.
“Where is Danae?” Constantine asked as he fell into step with the man who appeared to be his second.
“She kept vigil all night, sir.”
Constantine’s face clouded. “As if I were going back into battle.”
Evander nodded once gruffly. “You can hardly blame her.”
He said nothing to that. Then, he turned to Kerrigan. “Come along. Let’s get you to your room.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
Evander looked just as interested in his answer, but Constantine grunted and kept walking.
“He doesn’t ask twice,” Evander told her levelly with a stern but almost welcoming smile. “This way.”
Kerrigan sighed and followed them out of the muggy air and into the gray stone castle. It was surprisingly cool inside. That hadn’t much been the case in the city. And while the floors and walls were mostly bare, the place was clean. Well cared for.
“Talk to me, Evander,” Constantine said as he stomped through his empty house.
“Recruits begin within the hour. They were up at dawn and running circuits with the weights. Demetrius is fully back in gear. Theo is partnering with him. Myron will be ready when you are.”
Constantine nodded once. “Run them through the circuit. I’ll be there after I finish with this.”
Evander brought his fist to his chest and thumped it twice before turning on a heel and walking away. He spared one more glance at Kerrigan before disappearing.
“I don’t have time to deal with you yet,” Constantine said before she could speak. “I have to run my men through their paces. You should get some sleep.”
“I slept on the way here.”
“I noticed that.” He turned to face her, and she saw not an ounce of exhaustion on his face. He looked like any hardened warrior she’d ever trained with. “I also cast for magic burn, and you’re still glowing with it.”
She looked down at her skin in confusion. What did that mean?
“I don’t know how familiar you are with magic, but it leaves traces,” he told her calmly. “You must have been hit with a significant blast. The fact that there’s no physical or mental harm done is surprising. You still feel like you have full mental faculties, correct?”
“Yes,” she bit out. “I am perfectly capable of thinking for myself.”
“As I suspected.” He continued walking. “This way then.”
Kerrigan continued behind him through the halls of his estate until they came upon a large, open room with rows of tables. They were all empty at present. Whoever usually filled them—his fighters—must be gone for the day. That made sense. She had normally been up at dawn and already eaten when she was training.
“This is the eatery. You can eat whenever you’d like. Though I’ll likely have someone bring up meals to you while the men get accustomed to another woman among us.” Constantine gestured around.
“Okay,” she said uncertainly. “Are there many women around?”
“No.” Then, he kept walking. “You’ve had a trying night. If I had to guess, a trying few days if you were with Flavia long. She’s … something else.”
That was true enough.
He led them off to the right until he came upon closed double doors. He knocked twice before pushing them open. Inside was an average-sized room with an altar at the far wall with little icons upon it. Kneeling before the altar was a girl roughly Kerrigan’s age with dark brown hair to her waist and tan features.
“Danae,” Constantine said, his voice lowering with affection at the name.
She jumped at the sound, turning to face him. Her smile was radiant as she came swiftly to her feet. “Father!”
“I told you not to stay up,” he admonished good-naturedly.
“Since when have I ever listened to what you tell me?”
He laughed, a genuine sound, as she hurried toward him. “Never. No one can keep you in line, can they?”
“Assuredly not,” she agreed with a split grin as she threw herself into his arms.
Kerrigan retreated from the display. She had heard him mention Danae. She had understood the word daughter. And yet she hadn’t anticipated … this. This being something she had never had in her own complicated relationship with her father. Kivrin had abandoned her. And even though he had done it for the right reasons—to protect her from her mother’s husband—it had been years before she learned of it. They were on better footing, but it had never been like this between them. He had been severely injured when she fled to Domara for help. She had no idea of his fate.