Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 935(@200wpm)___ 748(@250wpm)___ 623(@300wpm)
I once asked my mother why this bitter, hateful man kept coming back when it clearly wasn’t for Meliora. There were hundreds of other war wives for him to choose. She gave me another answer I didn’t understand.
“Because he loves me, he can’t stay away... and because I don’t love him back, he hurts me.”
No, that did not make sense. If there was one thing I was certain of, Kirwan was not capable of love.
“You will not embarrass me.”
I jumped at his sudden speech.
“When we arrive at the palace, you’re to speak only when addressed. And when you do, it’ll be in a polite, soft tone and not that barking screech your mother should’ve drummed out of you. You represent all of Lyrica from the moment you step onto the grounds.
“The faeriken are little more than beasts, and yet they look down on us. They see us all as low-powered fae who dress ourselves up in jewels and finery to hide our inferiority.”
Are you certain they weren’t just thinking of you?
I bit my tongue, holding in the retort. Once, Kirwan hit me and my cheek swelled up like a dalia fruit. Mama broke a bowl over his head, and refused him for an entire year. He returned again and again, offering more money until our empty bellies and blistered shoeless feet forced her to take him back.
Ever since, he was only his most vile where she could not see him. And she couldn’t see him then.
“You’re an ugly girl.” He said it as though it was a simple fact of life. “You’re too short, too thin, and too mouthy. And that hair... Only the lowest faeriken with strange tastes will want you. Whatever they tell you to do, you’re not to fight or refuse. To do so would disrespect King Salman. I will not stand for shame to be brought upon the crown. Is that understood?”
I tipped my chin, offering no more than that.
Kirwan seemed to accept it because the carriage lapsed into blessed silence once again.
It was a long ride through the winding streets. Every dip in the road sent a jolt through my heart, taunting me the closer we got. This was it. Once my name was recorded and the money was dropped in Kirwan’s hands, there was no going back. After the wedding, my details would be passed among the kingdom’s brokers.
Any soldier or nobleman looking for a too-short, too-thin, too-mouthy companion would have me offered up on a silver platter. If none of them wanted me, I starved in the streets—denied the right to work in any other profession.
The only thing worse than this being my fate, was if it was Meli’s.
The carriage slowed, jolting me out of my thoughts. I chanced a peek outside and frowned.
“What are we doing here?”
“Have sense, girl. You’re not fit to enter the palace in that state. You will shower, change, and be here waiting for me in exactly one hour.” He climbed out and strode inside, giving no further instruction.
Adan climbed down and waited in his infinite, stoic patience. He was a bit older for his position. Streaks of gray weathered his burnished locks and crow’s feet stamped the corner of his flat, blue eyes. But what value was there in replacing a loyal servant who’d never betray your secrets? A faeriken cut out his tongue decades ago.
I stuck my head out, gaze traveling up, and up, and up to the towering chimney stacks—each stamped with the Dawnbreaker crest.
I knew Kirwan’s home from the one time Meliora and I followed him back, curious about where he existed outside of our small little hut. He led us to this place with its gold-painted doors; rough, umber sand bricks, and large grand windows that were all shrouded in heavy drapes, giving no hint to the lives of those inside.
Adan led me around the back to the servants’ entrance. The least amount of time and kiruna was given to decorating this part of the home, and it was easily grander than anywhere I’d been.
It struck me that Meliora and Mama could’ve lived here—spending their days in a manor within the richest part of Lyrica, where the floors shone with their reflections and painted hills rolled along the sandstone. This would’ve been their life, if there had been no me.
Kirwan made such an offer when Meliora was two and I five. He would end their poverty and bring Mama and Meliora into the manor, if my mother put me—the child of another man—in an orphanage.
Mama sent me and Meli out of the room to give her hot, shouted reply. After that day, Kirwan hated me all the more. My mother had no trace of love for him, but she had it all for me. I would always be the one she chose over him.