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“I don’t know what I think about this yet,” she mutters. “What I do know is I want to destroy the undergarments because who knows what they were doing with them, and I want to scrub my shoes clean.”
Talodus snorts. “You’re keeping them?”
“Hell yes, I’m keeping them.” She rolls her eyes at the guard. “And eventually, I’m going to find someone who can recreate them.”
“Why?” Ecaeris drawls, frowning at her. “They’re hideous.”
“And comfortable,” she snaps back. “And perfect for trekking around the wilderness without tennis shoes.”
That leaves each of us confused. Except Connak. He spends more time with William than we do, so he’s probably heard the term before now.
“What?” Talodus finally whispers to himself, testing the strange word. “Tennis.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ada assures him. “My shoes are more supportive than the sandals I’m wearing, and I happen to like them.”
Connak chuckles to himself. “That’s all that matters.”
ADELAIDE
DAY FIFTY-FOUR
I taste nothing as I eat breakfast with Ecaeris and Connak. It’s no fault of the mysterious Mongrel who cooks the food but has everything to do with the way they’re watching me.
“What is it?” I ask, snippy as my appetite dissolves. “Say whatever it is that’s making you stare at me like I’m a loose cannon.”
Connak takes a sip of water before he asks, “What’s a cannon?”
“A big gun.” I scrub my hand over my face. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a figure of speech on Earth. Just... Tell me so I can try to eat without being gawked at.”
“Are we going to talk about you being a goddess?” Connak inquires, laying his napkin atop his empty plate.
“I’m not sure what else there is to say,” I mumble, pushing my nearly full plate away. “Spiran decided my fate. I’m just along for the ride.”
“When did she tell you?” the prince presses.
I shake my head. “She didn’t. Isolde did.”
“So you don’t know?” he continues.
“I know I feel like I could move the ocean,” I reply, giving him the same bland expression he so often shows me. “But that could be all the anxiety you two are causing me from your incessant focus.”
“I don’t understand how they can say you’re a goddess without some kind of proof.” Ecaeris grimaces. “Not that I’m calling you a liar.”
“I get it,” I mutter. “It’s a lot to take in.”
Connak takes a piece of bread from my plate and throws it at the prince. “Well, I don’t. Would you question Spiran if she were sitting here?”
“No,” he drawls.
“Right,” the hunter pops back. “So, why question Ada?”
Ecaeris picks up the bread, putting it back on my plate. “I’m not. I’m questioning my mother.”
“We knew Ada was strange,” Connak tells him.
“Hey,” I protest, though I’m not exactly offended. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting in front of you.”
“I’m not talking about you, Ada,” he placates. “I’m reminding Ecaeris of the questions we had about you when you first got here.”
