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Luke stands in more traditional garb than he usually wears as a Keeper of the Fade.
The Keepers of the Fade look after the temple and forest at the edge of town, at the foot of the great mountain. They’re the ones who traditionally deal with the elves, and keep anyone in Capton from accidently crossing over the Fade—the barrier that splits our world from the land of the elves and wild magic.
But realizing you have a want to kiss someone makes everything agonizing.
But this wanting makes every movement between us unbearable. Especially because I can’t kiss him. Doing so would be cruel…to both of us.
The Weakness has been a withering sickness plaguing Capton’s people. It beats my attempts to combat it at every turn.
But I can see angry sharks swimming in the cool pools of his eyes.
“If you’re always walking above people you risk walking on them, Eldas. And that’s how you make enemies.”
“Good,” I say. “Because I have no interest in lecturing a man who won’t listen.”
“You will respect me!” Eldas shouts. “Be someone worthy of respecting first!” I slam the door behind me.
onomancy—the
ritumancy—magic
sanguinmancy—magic
I feel something, all right.
plebeian
utilitarian
I can’t tell if the flapping in my stomach is the wings of butterflies or hornets.
illustrious.”
Your king. The words rumble in contrast to “your queen.” If I am his queen, does that mean he is my king? Is it, rather than him owning me, that we own each other? We share each other?
effervescent.
He’s a man of contrasts.
enraptured
I’m doing a very poor job of ignoring these thoughts.
trenchant.”
askance.
blooming in the grim gardens of his mind.
“Everything in this castle is yours, Luella. You can’t steal from yourself.” My nails dig lightly against the metal. Everything here is mine. There’s too much in those four words to unpack right now.
fastidious
