Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I swallow. “Maybe.”
“You really want to go away with me? Just the two of us?”
“Wouldn’t it be nice to go to a place where there aren’t so many eyes on us all the time?”
“Brie, the reality of my life is that there are always people watching. I’d like to tell you that I can give you anything, but the truth about ruling is that you don’t get a private life.”
And if I’m going to stay with him, this is a reality I’m going to have to accept. That’s the least of our problems, Bash. “Even getting away from the hordes of courtiers would be something,” I say. “I always loved the ocean, and I’d love to see what it’s like in your world.”
His eyes soften, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “If I’m honest, the idea of having you to myself for a couple of days is incredibly appealing. Let me see what I can work out. I have to leave first thing in the morning, and I expect to be away all day.”
My heart sinks, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m that anxious to get to the book or because I don’t want him to go away again. “Where do you go this time?”
“We’ve had some trouble at the eastern border.” He frowns. “Our security isn’t what it once was.”
“You mean the camps?” When his expression hardens, I hesitate, but the words are already out there, so I go on. This is too important. “You don’t help them lock up those innocent people, do you?”
“What do you know about the camps?”
“I . . . not much. Just that it’s Unseelie who are trying to escape Mordeus’s oppressive rule and . . . They’re just trying to find a better life, Bash.” I can see in his eyes that there is no way I should know even half that much. “I didn’t believe you would have anything to do with it. I thought you wanted to help people—no matter what court they’re from.”
“Of course I do. But you need to understand that—” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. You don’t need the details. Who told you about this?”
“I’ve just . . . heard people talking.”
“What people?”
The anger in his eyes worries me—not for myself, but for anyone I might implicate. After seeing him with Jalek, I’m not entirely sure who I’m dealing with. “I don’t know.”
“I can trust you, right, Brie?”
You can never trust a thief you’ve welcomed into your home. “Of course.” The lie is bitter on my tongue.
His shoulders relax. “I do, you know. For better or worse, I do.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles before leading me back to the palace and my room.
I lie awake half the night, the bitter taste in my mouth making my stomach cramp.
* * *
Pretha gets me from my chambers shortly after breakfast, and guilt dogs me with every step to the carriage and every turn toward Finn’s.
I can trust you, right, Brie?
He can’t trust me, and I have to keep that secret until Jas is home safe. When I consider the choice between Sebastian’s feelings and Jas’s freedom, the choice is obvious. It’s easy. So why do I feel this way?
“What’s wrong with you?” Pretha asks as the carriage stops in the village.
“Nothing.” I climb out behind her and we walk along in silence toward the house.
She stops at the front door. “Don’t lie to me, Brie. It’s a waste of time.”
“I just want my sister back. I want to find the damn book so Mordeus can tell me what’s next. I’m sick of everyone acting like we have all the time in the world. I want to finish this and get my sister and go home.” But my voice cracks on the last word. Home? Is that what it is? We can’t stay in Fairscape. Gorst will never stop hunting me down for stealing from him, and going back to Elora in any capacity means saying goodbye to Sebastian . . . and to Finn and Pretha and the whole misfit faerie crew.
When I look up, Pretha is studying me. Maybe it’s just the nature of Eurelody’s form, but her expression seems almost sympathetic. “Are you and Sebastian fighting?”
“Not at all.” I shake my head and look away. Across the cobblestone street, a faerie with angelic translucent wings and curled horns sweeps her front porch. “The problem is that he trusts me and I need him to, but I feel like garbage every time I exploit that.”
She frowns. “You’ve been put in an impossible situation.”
I wait for her to give me some sage advice on helping said impossible situation, but she just pushes inside and gestures for me to close the door behind me. She shifts back into her own form and leads the way to the library.