Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
I pull back and see the glimmer of my grandfather; the weight of his plea has me hugging him again, and nodding.
He pats my shoulder, his gaze on Quin. “There’s a boat in the canal outside the gate. Everything you asked for is inside.”
He gently shifts his cat and pulls out two mourning cloaks. One goes to me, the other to Quin, who dons it immediately. “Take the southern route out.”
I throw on the cloak, dizzy. Everyone thinks I’m dead. I can’t stay in the capital. Can’t be discovered.
Quin grabs a bundle hidden behind the log and slings it over his shoulder.
As I follow him, uncertainty about my future clouds my mind. I turn to Skriniaris Evander and ask, “Please, take care of Akilah? Florentius?”
He hides our discarded cloaks in the basket under his cat and speaks softly. “I’ll do my best.”
Quin lifts me into the air and into the treetops. He settles us behind a branch thick with leaves. Below, I see Nicostratus rushing through the gate to the burial grounds, his cloak a dark shadow of grief.
He lets out a pained wail.
My stomach tightens. I pull the golden feather from my belt and squeeze it tight as he cries my name again. I snag Quin’s cloak, pleading.
“The fewer who know the better,” he says, his gaze dropping to the feather in my hand.
I let out a shuddery breath and bow my head. Everyone’s reactions must be believable. Only that will keep Quin safe from the duke.
Nicostratus weeps, and Quin’s fingers twitch at his side, his knuckles white against the fabric of his cloak. He pulls us sharply away, gliding to the gate, where we, our mourning hoods raised, board a traveller’s boat.
Quin sits at the helm, calling gusts to immediately send us on our way. Watching him command the wind is like witnessing a force of nature. His movements are deliberate, precise; impossibly graceful for a man so stiff with pain. I hate how much I want to ask him how he remains so steadfast.
Inside the rustic cabin is a bench and baskets filled with clothing, money, food. His wooden cane. I touch it, and then scramble to the curtained door. “Are you running away with me?”
Though, thinking of it, how presumptuous—to assume the king would accompany me, when Skriniaris Evander might have done so.
He glances at me. “Keep yourself hidden.”
I drop the curtains and peek out between them. “I thought you’d just drop me somewhere safe.”
“I’m meant to appear as though I’m rapidly ageing and dying. I left a letter for my family, explaining I would use my last months to quietly slip away.”
“But your son—”
He stiffens and I lower my gaze. “This is the only way to help him. Veronica will take good care of him. My brother, too.”
We’re quiet for a few bends of the water. I glance at the clothes, the cane, and, as we pass by my home manor, I inch the curtain open and send a quiet wish for their wellbeing. Will I ever see my family again?
“You’ll come back,” Quin murmurs.
I swallow the lump in my throat and I stare outside until the canal bends and my home blinks out of sight behind the luminarium.
“The parcel in there . . .” Quin says, and I find the fabric-wrapped bundle he had with him at the burial mounds.
I pull it onto my lap and rummage inside to the cool touch of leather and paper. Grandfather’s research. My lips wobble into a soft smile. I hug them against my chest and breathe in their musty scent. “Thank you.”
“You helped Mother.”
“That was Mikros and Makarios—”
“She has a chance because of you. Thank you.”
There’s an ache in my chest. I attempt a smile. “His majesty is most effusive in his praise.”
Quin laughs low, but it’s short lived.
A few quiet beats pass. “What happened, after I ‘died’?”
“My uncle watched while Apex-vitalian Chiron examined you. A second vitalian confirmed. Then an angry official charged in with a crude knife to stab you in the heart for your treason.”
“I know how it ends . . . but,” I gulp, “what happened next?”
“Chiron stopped him with a shield. Said I’d given orders for an intact body and asked if he intended to betray me too.”
“Vitalian Chiron said that?”
I poke my head out and Quin reaches without looking to tug the curtain back in place. My sigh billows the fabric.
“I’m used to faking, but . . .” His voice is hollow. “Those minutes were the toughest act of my life.”
I sense a certain gravity to his tone. I sigh again. “So far.”
“What do you mean, so far?”
“Let’s see what other parts you’ll need to play on our journey.”
Quin opens the curtain this time, his focus sharp and unwavering. “Once you’re safely away from the capital, our paths will part.”
“You’ll travel alone?”