They’re night and day. Sun and moon. One couldn’t be more different from the other, but both own the sky in their own wicked way.
Rhordyn’s taller, and he uses it to his advantage, looking down on Cainon like he’s no bigger than a bug on the masonry.
“It’s a very brash man who would come to a neighboring Master’s estate and bribe him in such a way. Part of me is impressed, though that part is miniscule. The rest of me wants to peel the skin off your testicles and make you eat them—force you to ingest the seeds of your future offspring.”
Cainon lifts his chin, sliding his hands deep into his pockets like this is a casual chat about the weather. “I wouldn’t threaten me, Rhor. Certainly not when you’re harboring a woman with such ...distinctBahari attributes in your little rocky tower.”
Huh?
Rhordyn slides forward until there is no longer any space cleaving them apart. “Do you need me to remind you who you’re talking to?”
My heart is in my throat, the moment growing its own hungry pulse.
There’s somethingmorebetween these two—a history I don’t understand.
Cainon drifts back a step. It’s only a small concession, but it seems significant.
Rhordyn grunts and stalks back to his chair, reclining into it in the same way he sits atop his throne.
“You would lock her up and let her rot when she could be the key to your salvation?”
Rhordyn shrugs. “Orlaith will not suffer the weight of a political pairing. So, unless you’ve miraculously stolen her heart,” he says with a flippant wave of his hand, “then you can kindly go fuck yourself. And your ships.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and sag against the wall, letting the curtain fall back into place.
He needs those ships. Thepeopleneed those ships.
“The offer expires at midnight tomorrow,” Cainon states, and heavy footsteps follow. “Make the right decision for your people, Rhor. And for her.”
The parting three words are rich with disgust, showcasing his displeasure at however he perceives my situation.
Oursituation.
It’s not until Cainon’s footfalls fade that I slink away; body moving through the motions, mind churning.
That conversation exposed me—wedged a stick of guilt deep within my conscience. Because I survived a Vruk attack despite my tender age and was gifted a cushioned life, sat high and dry in my pretty tower while the world crumbled around me.
Yes, I suffer every time I close my eyes, but I’m the lucky one. I’m the one who got tolive.
But what’s that life worth if it’s at the cost of others?
Most of the people who work at this castle have family in the nearby villages. Mothers. Fathers. Children.Grandchildren.
One way or another, my safety circle’s encroaching—like hands sliding around my neck.
Tightening.
Could I bear the weight of watching Cook mourn her newly born granddaughter because I couldn’t break through the bars I’ve placed around my own mind?
I know the answer to that question, and it’s a frightening one. An answer just as deadly as that circle I’ve drawn around this castle.
Borrowed time.That’s all these past nineteen years have been ...
And it seems that time is running out.
Despite the roaring fire pouring heat throughout my room, the stone floor is cold and unforgiving beneath my bare knees and shins.
It’s fitting. A way to prepare me for my inevitable frosty encounter.
