Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“You make him sound like a monster,” I say.
“Monsters come in many forms, Princess. Something about Prince Roark does unsettle me, but I hardly think he should be your biggest concern.”
“Who should be my biggest concern, then?”
“Do not give Prince Titus or Queen Korintha any reason to doubt your loyalty to this marriage. That is all I can say. But you should get some rest, Princess. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
With that, Calian nods and takes off down the stairs at a brisk pace, leaving me with nothing but the retreating sound of his footsteps echoing upwards. I look around the huge room, alone for the first time since I’ve been brought here. I move to the window, surveying the city beneath me. Even with it all right in front of my eyes, it’s so hard to believe. This is all real, isn’t it? Real and magical and terrible all at the same time.
I wonder how many women in my position would jump at the chance to marry Prince Titus and live the life of a Princess, despite the coldness I saw in his eyes. Most probably would. But one of the only ways I survived this long was knowing that no matter how poorly my family treated me, one day I’d be free of them. I’d have the freedom to meet the right guy and marry him, and I’d be able to look back on my youth proudly because I’d know I fought through it and came out on top. Marrying Titus would lock me into a life of the same mistreatment and abuse. I don’t know how I feel that so surely, but I do.
So I do the only thing I can see left to do. I hike up my skirt and fly down the stairs as fast as I can, retracing my steps toward the exit of the palace, slowing down to avoid looking suspicious when I pass guards, and then speeding up again when no one is around. My heart thuds in my ears so loud I can barely hear anything but the wind rushing past my ears and the click of my heels on the marbled floors.
I’m in sight of the huge doors I came in through when I hear fast, heavy footsteps behind me.
“No!” I shout, not caring anymore who hears. My brain has shifted into survival mode, and I have no thought but to claw, bite, and tear my way out of this place that would be my prison, no matter the cost. Maybe my life on the outside was miserable, but it was just about to change. I was going to go off to college and find a job and start a new life. Surely that would be better than marrying that block of ice who calls himself a prince.
I bank right, heading for a long hallway full of doors. I distantly hope that I can duck into a room and lose my pursuer, but when I glance over my shoulder I see an athletic man in light clothing gaining on me fast. I take the corner blindly, making it only a half step before I collide with a tall man who seems to be made entirely of hard, warm muscle. It’s like running into a wall, and I stagger backwards after the impact, coughing and trying to catch my breath.
A hand grips me from behind, but when I look up and see the man I bumped into, I barely notice it.
Prince Roark.
His black hair is pushed perfectly away from his face, which is a pleasant mixture of classic, regal features but with just the right touch of rugged--from the stubble on his strong jaw to his breathtaking eyes and striking eyebrows. He wears some sort of clothing that looks like a mixture of armor and every-day clothes, with a leather cuff over his arm and a breastplate of leather squares neatly sewn together strapped over his chest, along with two high neck-guards of hard, curved leather that rise on the side of his head to just below his ears.
“Prince Roark,” says the man behind me, who I see now to be a guard that can’t be past his mid twenties. “Pardon me. I need to take Princess Elizabeth back to Prince Titus.”
“That won’t be necessary,” says Roark.
He looks past me, as if I’m invisible, speaking to the guard over my shoulder. I watch him as he speaks, taking in the flawless shape of his mouth and the row of white teeth within. How could someone so beautiful be the monster Calian implied?
“Prince Titus will want to see that she is disciplined. Sir,” adds the guard. “I should really see to--”
“We needn’t wake Titus. Come. I’ll see to it that she’s disciplined. You can stand outside if you prefer. When my brother asks if you’re sure she was taught a lesson, you’ll be able to say you heard everything.”