Total pages in book: 222
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 210715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1054(@200wpm)___ 843(@250wpm)___ 702(@300wpm)
“Even if he empties the Tower and brings every Redeemer knight to this house, I will cut them down and take his head. He will never touch you.”
“Because you’re the Sleepless Duke.”
“That’s one reason.”
I believed him.
“I’m ready for the lanterns to be off now.”
He got up and blew the lamps out. I watched him settle back into the chair in the gloom, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.
CHAPTER 28
PLANTER 26
I opened my eyes.
Golden sunshine flooded the room, painting the walls with bright happy light. Someone must’ve opened the window in the study, because I could hear the birds singing their hearts out in the branches of the wine tree.
I turned my head. Everard met my eyes. He was still in the chair.
“Did you stay here all night?”
“I did.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“How’s the pain?”
I raised my arm, trying to test my body. My joints creaked like an old door.
“Tolerable.”
“I’m relieved.” He rose. “I will give you some privacy.”
He left and shut the door behind him.
My bed was empty except for me. Sushi must’ve gone out.
I sprawled on my sheets and stared at the ceiling.
I started yesterday with beautiful hair, an amazing dress, horrible shoes, and high hopes. I met a handsome knight and delivered a warning. I won an audience with a merchant princess of scandalous birth and started a trade war of succession. I ruined the plans of the Lord Commander of the Redeemer Knights, who was clearly up to no good, and obtained a magical creature.
And then I was abducted, stabbed, tortured, and killed.
I died, came back to life, and defaced my killer in the most literal sense of the word. I was rescued and bathed, and then I was carried gently by the Sleepless Duke, who sat by my bedside all night and was probably nursing a raging backache.
Zero out of ten stars. Would not recommend.
I’d murdered my second person in three weeks.
The memory of cracking the Butcher’s skull was fresh. The visuals were a bit fuzzy, but I remembered the sound of his bones breaking, the wet splats, and the stench of the blood . . .
I’d killed the Butcher. I’d saved myself, but there had been so much pain. The horror of what I’d endured had been too raw. When I thought back to it, I felt trapped. I had probably not been altogether sane in that moment. I should’ve killed him and escaped, but instead I had stayed, locked into the endless cycle of smashing that mace into his face. I wasn’t even sure how long I had stood there, beating a dead man.
When Everard showed up yesterday, he had shattered that weird, agonizing loop. He took me out of that nightmare, brought me home, and promised to guard me while I slept. And then he did.
The books had led me astray.
The Book-Everard was a merciless killer. He didn’t believe in degrees of guilt and punishment, and he seemed incapable of empathy. He was portrayed as a force rather than a human being, a personification of his domain. Whenever he appeared in the narrative, someone was about to die.
The real Everard was infinitely more complex. He was deadly and ruthless, true, but also subtle and smart. Smart was the problem here. I couldn’t help but admire the deviousness. The problem was, I had no idea where the manipulation ended and actual feelings began, if he even had any.
He had pretended to be Reynald, and he’d been very convincing. His speech had been less refined, he’d grinned, he’d laughed, he’d seemed . . . normal. I had cared for him. I’d liked him. I hadn’t ever realized how much until I saw the Fatefire and it had all come crashing down.
The way he looked at me when he carried me up those stairs . . . I shivered and instantly regretted it because all of me was very sore. If I ever met Omelyana of Gor, I would buy her a whole short barrel of the orange cherry wine she loved so much. She had all my sympathy. He was too much.
I needed to get my head on straight, because if things kept going his way, in a couple of months I would be standing by his throne in Selva, gazing at him in adoration with all my Kair Toren plans forgotten. And I would keep standing there for years, until all my knowledge was exhausted, while he planned his wedding to the most politically advantageous candidate.
Yesterday was done. Today was a whole new day.
It sank in finally. We had won. I had taken out the Butcher. He was gone. The Sun Margrave would survive. Matheo was safe.
I took a deep breath. It hurt. My ribs didn’t like me breathing.
Now that the immediate threat was gone, Everard would want to know what came next. I had to be smart, sharp, and careful. But first, I had to get out of this bed. Up we go. How hard could it be?