Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169943 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 850(@200wpm)___ 680(@250wpm)___ 566(@300wpm)
“Magpie has a bit of a reputation around town.” She shrugs. “It was a long shot anyhow. I talked to Lark and she said that her aunt has connections. She knows someone who can make her a false pass and someone who can take us down the drop for the right price.”
I stir my porridge, eyeing my husband from afar. He sits at the far end of the table from me, talking to the nestmaid, who’s taking notes for food supplies for the week. We’re on the cusp of the Conquest Moon and apparently it affects Taurians in all ways, including hunger. He needs additional foodstuffs, some of which will be prepared in advance and deposited into our room so we don’t have to leave the bed during the moon time, a fact that makes me blush so hard my face feels scalding. Everyone is going to be extremely aware of what we’ll be doing in that time frame.
It’s no different from an arranged marriage, I remind myself, in which your husband would be keeping you in bed trying to get you with an heir as quickly as possible. Everyone knows you’re having sex then, too.
“We’re getting the counterfeit pass tonight,” Gwenna murmurs, holding a mug of tea up near her mouth and cupping her hands around it to hide her face. “You’re going to have to keep Hawk busy after dinner so he doesn’t ask questions.”
Oh. I nod, mind racing, as I try to figure out how one distracts a surly Taurian who’s already distracted by sex. The obvious answer is right there, but I also don’t want to rouse his suspicions. The last time I reached out to touch Hawk on my own, he called me a spy. I need him to instigate things. “I’ll see what I can do.”
I ponder this all day as we go through weapons drills, and we switch up our positions. Lark takes over shield-bashing everything, and truly, she’s far more enthusiastic about it than I ever was. Gwenna takes over navigation, and that leaves me with either being the healer or the gearmaster.
“I kind of like being the healer,” Mereden tells me shyly. “And I know a lot about tending to wounds thanks to my time at the convent.”
“Then you should stay the healer,” I agree, because I don’t know anything about wounds. Gearmaster is a fairly simple position—I manage the supplies and ensure we don’t run out…which isn’t something you can practice at the dorm. I work with a shortened quarterstaff instead and try not to think about all the other things we could be doing. We’re supposed to be learning more about artifacts and Old Prell itself. Magpie suggested we head to the guild’s library earlier today, since it should be deserted (as everyone in training is currently in the tunnels except us).
Hawk said no.
Said he was in too bad of a mood to be around the rest of the guild. He’s definitely been on the surly side of things, I think, as I glance over at him working with Kipp. The slitherskin bounces along the walls and flings himself off Lark’s shield as the two of them counter Hawk’s heavy, insistent blows with a club.
His temperament has gotten worse, as twice now, the guild has sent messengers today. Most of the Taurians are gone from the city, which means that the retrieval and assistance missions are all falling to him. He turns them away, too, but I can see his scowl growing deeper with every person who arrives at the door.
By the time we’re done with lessons for the day, he’s in an absolutely foul mood and the guild has sent a third messenger, only to be turned away. The others pile into the kitchen for snacks—and to escape his wrath—and I remain behind as he tidies up the training room. Gwenna told me to stick to his side today and I intend to do so.
I approach him delicately. “You know I don’t mind if you want to help out with the guild—”
“I said I would spend time with you,” he all but snarls.
I recoil.
Immediate remorse flashes over his face. He runs a hand down his muzzle, sighing heavily. “I’m sorry, Aspeth. It’s not you. It’s just…today. The guild. Magpie.” He gestures at our surroundings.
“And the Conquest Moon?”
“Like a fist around my cock at all times,” he admits. “And just as impossible to ignore.” He runs both hands down his long face. “I’m going to be a beast to live with until this passes.”
I want to make a joke about how as a woman, I know all about being cranky during certain times of the month. That I can relate to his foul temper being out of his control. But somehow, I don’t think comparing my menstruation cycle to this will help cheer him any, touchy as he is. If he were a woman, I’d offer him sweets. But Taurians are fussy eaters and I don’t even know if he likes sweets. Even so, feeding his mood isn’t a bad idea.