Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“So, what are we doing down here?”
“I wanted to show you something.” I moved to one of the long tables in the center of the room. There was dust in the air, but not on the surfaces because the maids tidied up every morning.
“I don’t read.”
“Yes, I know.” I rolled my eyes. “And you’re doing yourself a great disservice.”
“Because I can’t heal horses? They’re animals, Ivory. No one cares about them.”
“That’s not true. I care.” I grabbed all the books on the shelf that I’d stored for myself then carried them to the table.
Ryker fell into the chair, his knees wide apart, his arms on the armrests. He immediately propped his chin on his fist and looked bored. Very bored.
I took the seat across from him and opened the first book. “I was going through these and found something interesting. Interesting in that it doesn’t make sense.”
“Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t read…”
I lifted my chin and narrowed my eyes. “It’s a history of Delacroix, all the kings who have ruled over this establishment for thousands of years.”
“If I’d known this would be a history lesson, I would have continued to feel up Amelia.” His closed fist pushed into his cheek.
I ignored what he said. “The name Rolfe is everywhere. Kings, queens, stewards…”
“Your point?”
“I don’t see Rutherford anywhere.”
He gave a shrug. “Maybe a queen kept her maiden name.”
“That doesn’t happen.”
“Well, what other explanation is there?” he asked irritably. “Nobody comes down here, and I don’t understand why you do.”
“I’ve always thought that was weird.”
“Good, we agree on something. You’re weird.”
“No,” I snapped. “It’s weird that nobody uses the grand library. When I asked Father about it, he had nothing to say. There’s so much knowledge at our fingertips right here, and nobody seems to care. I’ve discovered a way to heal, and still, there’s no interest.”
He gave a shrug.
“These history books don’t mention Rutherford or our last name, Hughes. Anywhere.”
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing at the moment. But I’ll imply something soon.”
He dropped his hand from his face and examined the bookcases nearby. His lazy eyes dragged down the shelves before they turned back to me.
“All the portraits on the wall…who are they?”
“People long dead and gone.”
“Are they ancestors? When I ask Father, he says they are, but he can’t give me names or information.”
“Ivory, does it really matter? After a couple generations, no one is going to remember us either. The last person who might remember your name will be your grandkid, your great-grandkid if you’re really lucky. Then there won’t be a single person on this earth who’s ever known you.”
I held his gaze.
“Depressing, huh?”
My eyes went back to the shelves, wondering who’d been here before, what their lives had been like, the wars they’d won so we could sit on our thrones with servants at our feet.
“Be careful tomorrow.”
My eyes went back to my brother.
“I know you’ll have a guard, but you just never know…”
The ghosts of the people I never knew disappeared from my thoughts. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but…it sounds like you care about me.” The smile broke through my tightly pressed lips.
“Just reminding you that you aren’t invincible.” He looked at the shelves again.
“I’ll miss you.”
Now he made a face, still not looking at me.
“Ryker?”
“Hmm?”
“There’s this guard in the castle—”
“Yeah, Burke mentioned it. The monster with blue eyes.”
“Have any idea who I’m talking about?”
“I think I do, actually.” He pulled his gaze away from the bookshelf and looked at me once more, this time his look serious.
“Do you know his name?”
He gave a slight shake of his head. “You think I know any of their names?”
“Ryker.”
“When I left the castle the other day, I saw him by the door. He had a pretty hard stare.”
“And that doesn’t concern you?”
“It’s his job to stare, right? Maybe you’re just being sensitive.”
“A lot of the guards stare at me. But not the way he does. It’s like…” I couldn’t even find the words for it. “I butchered his entire family or something.”
“I think he’s one of the Blade Scions.”
“Blade Scions?”
“Fighters that survive the trials.”
“What trials?”
“I’m honestly not sure. All I know is, most fighters don’t survive it.”
“Then why do they do it?”
He shrugged. “The honor? The pay? All the men who guard King Rutherford are Blade Scions.”
“And you’re saying this guy is one of them?”
“I think so. With all the shit he’s seen…can you really blame him for being pissed off all the time?”
“The problem is, he seems to be pissed off at me.”
“You’ve always been a bit self-absorbed…”
I shot him a glare.
He gave me a smirk back.
My father’s study was full of dark furniture, a mahogany desk with little nicks carved into the wood. He would sit there for hours and dig his dagger into the surface as he pondered to himself. It was always the same spot, a circle of abrasions. The curtains were drawn over the window, and the sconces on the wall cast a low light. His broadsword leaned against the wall, and his armor was on the stand in the corner.