Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
He’s not often this quiet. On the contrary, most of the time, he has questions about my world, and since I have them about his, we’ve resorted to trading information instead of a war in which each of us is trying to get more of theirs answered.
I’m also pretty sure he’s been flirty a few times when he got a bit too comfortable, but he respects his crown prince, and I never respond to the compliments. Once, I did tell him his hair looks like waterfalls of fresh blood, and things got so awkward after that, I now make sure to keep such comments at bay.
I believe he’s tired today, since he did mention staying up all night with someone. I still count on his reflexes in case an assassin decided to pounce at me from a top shelf, but the library is his favorite place for naps, so I’m guessing that’s what he’ll do as soon as I choose a book.
I’ve already noticed there are times during the day when the aisles between shelves and reading nooks crowd with courtiers, but since lavish parties, gambling, and nights of debauchery are an integral part of life at the palace, most of those who have time to read don’t bother getting up before lunch. To Tristan’s dismay, that makes mornings my favorite time to be here, but to his credit, he never complains about my habits. Not directly at least.
“Do you not enjoy the dark?” he asks out of nowhere as I walk past a set of daybeds meant for reading. “You go to sleep so awfully early.”
“Unlike you, I don’t see well in the dark. I’m lucky to have these.” I tap the silvery glasses. “Though there’s other reasons to go to bed early,” I add with a smirk.
A squeak turns my attention to the leather satchel Reiner customized for Count Flapula’s needs and comfort. I asked for it to be studded with silver spikes for my own pleasure. I want it to look cool, not like I’m wearing a baby carrier.
Though I do baby-talk to my bat when we’re alone. His wing is healing so well, and even though Kyran is skeptical of my attempts to befriend the little creature, I try to spend lots of time with Flap, so we can bond.
I should prioritize finding out more about the Nightweeds, to work out any hidden truths about Kyran, but today I plan to read up more on these bats to make sure I’m feeding him right and giving our tiny 'count' all he needs.
“Right, you’re prey,” Tristan says matter-of-factly and yawns, leaning against a tree-shaped column. I have to admit he looks damn good in the outfit of snug shark leather, with a looser jacket that barely reaches his waist, and a sword attached at the hip. Were Kyran not in the picture, I might have made a move, but one beautiful elven prince is more than enough for me.
Plus, Tristan’s a manwhore, and I’ve already dealt with my share of them.
I frown at him. “Excuse me? I’m guessing you fancy yourself a predator then?”
Even Flap is offended, because he peeks out of the satchel with another squeak. I’m so happy to see his long bunny ears perk up, because when I first took care of him, they laid flat as if he were terrified to lift them. I rub my fingertip between them as Tristan plays with his fiery hair.
“Kyranis did hunt you down. And I have a feeling he keeps hunting you day and night,” he adds with a smirk, and while I feel that I should be offended, nothing about his smile is malicious.
I shake my head. “I don’t kiss and tell. You wouldn’t know where the section on creatures, monsters, or animals is, would you?” I ask to change the subject.
Tristan’s lip curls in distaste, as if a suggestion that he might know anything about the library is a personal affront. “No idea. You’re better off asking my sister.” He points down the corridor of bookshelves.
Under a collection of blue lights, illuminating the portrait of the previous Lord of the Nocturne Court with his family, stands a large desk. Even from afar, I spot Sabine’s mane of red hair as she’s browsing through some papers.
“You can take a nap if you want,” I say to Tristan. “I will be a while.”
For a moment, Tristan’s gaze drifts to the day beds, but when a tall, slender figure emerges from the shadows and approaches Sabine, he steps forward, leading the way toward her. “I wanted to ask how she’s been anyway.”
I glare at him, then at the dark-haired beauty whom I haven’t yet seen at court. The man has an elongated silhouette and dense locks styled into a knot at the back of his head. The clothes he’s wearing feature more color than I’ve seen since arriving at the Nocturne Court, and lots of layers, which makes them distinct from the tailored finery I’m gradually getting used to.