Gild (Plated Prisoner, #1)

by Raven Kennedy

Does it really matter if your cage is solid gold when you aren’t allowed to leave it? A cage is a cage, no matter how gilded.

But memory and time aren’t friends. They reject each other, they hurry in opposite directions, pulling the binding taut between them, threatening to snap. They fight, and we inexplicably lose. Memory and time. Always losing one as you go on with the other.

We’re all actors; we’re all on pedestals with a spotlight shining on us, playing whatever part we need to in order to make it through the day—in order to help ourselves sleep at night.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that this much wealth … it becomes meaningless after a while. Empty. You can have all the gold in the world and yet lack everything of real worth.

But through it all, Sail keeps looking at me, gaze steady and unyielding. When my body shivers, he holds his in. When my lips tremble, he pulls his up into a sad smile. When a tear falls against my cold cheek, he nods, still speaking to me, even without words. You’re okay, you’re okay.

It’s the arrogance of men, to think so little of women. And it’ll be their downfall too.