Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) by E.E. Everly (motivational books for men txt) đź“•
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- Author: E.E. Everly
Read book online «Corrupted: An Epic Dragons and Immortals Romantic Fantasy (Fallen Emrys Chronicles Book 1) by E.E. Everly (motivational books for men txt) 📕». Author - E.E. Everly
Hyledd sat on the western shores of massive Lake Mererid, where the Great River poured from the lake and ran north of the city, forming an estuary before dumping into the sea. An impressive white wall of stone ran around the southern border of the city, stopping on either side at the river’s edge, where the docks allowed ships to come in for trade from other coastal towns.
A man keeping pace beside me must have noticed my amazement. “It’s a magnificent city, my lady. You should be happy here.”
My face grew warm from the title. “Yeah, definitely, it’s beautiful.” I nodded in agreement, and mentally smacked my head. He must have thought my speech was so rustic. Nothing like a lady’s.
“Wait until you see the view of the river from the palace. Fresh breezes, the gulls calling, the ocean in the west when the sun sets below it. Lord Pwyll, rest his soul, truly chose a glorious place to establish his realm.”
“Lord Pwyll is Brenin’s grandfather?”
“Aye. Truly the best of them. It’s a shame Lord Pwyll’s eldest son died so young just after Lord Brenin was born.”
“Has it been difficult for Brenin”—I cringed—“I mean, my lord? Has he suffered much because of it?”
“Lord Brenin doesn’t remember his father, and he has his uncle, the ruler of Talfryn, King Sieffre, to mentor him and be a father figure. Brenin’s mother raised him until she died last year. Her death was hard on my lord.”
I remembered the day of mourning decreed over the kingdom. This was before I’d met Brenin. He appeared in my life a few short months later and must have been grieving still. His lingering for long days in my pasture made sudden sense. Both recovering from the sadness of our pasts, we needed each other.
The man stopped his horse, so I reined mine to a clumsy halt. The others were moving with steady hoofbeats in front of us. With a gloved hand, he touched my arm. “You’ve been his salvation. Brenin found you right when I thought his despair would overcome him. I thank you for that.”
Surprise filled me. I had no idea Brenin was hiding such deep pain behind his laughs and smiles. I looked into the eyes of this older man, who bore the crest of the kingdom on his chest. His esteem showed, with clarity, a fatherly love for Brenin. I squeezed my eyes shut to prevent any tears from slipping loose. Was I saving Brenin, or was he saving me?
We continued on, the city looming closer as we descended the rolling hills of the countryside.
The palace, on the highest point overlooking the river, was a grand structure of white turrets and shining rooftops. My new home with Lord Brenin—with Brenin. From a two-roomed cottage to a castle.
As the day drew to a close, our group entered the south city gate. Houses were made of stone and avenues were spacious for carts and horses. The city had been expertly crafted—the workmanship showed the best quality. White stone had been hauled vast distances from the mountains in the north to make this city monumental.
The road passed through the center market and the main square before climbing the hill to the palace. From across the countryside, the people of Terrin came to the Hyledd markets to do business, but the daily commotion in the market and square was wrapping up for the night. Stalls and carts filled with merchandise and foods were closing down. People were shutting up shops—drawing shutters tight, collapsing awnings, and calling for wandering children.
I was grateful I’d missed the loud voices floating on the air as people exchanged goods and haggled over prices, but even so, without the tumult, my nervousness peaked, and my hands became clammy.
The memory of my single trip to the city stirred in my mind. I had visited the city with my parents eleven years prior. I recalled the way Mother smiled, with her long blonde hair swinging, and the way Mother held Father’s hand as if he were the only man in the world.
I choked with an inhale, and a cough escaped. Oh, Mother, I miss you! I grabbed the one possession that held me together as I entered this new life—the stone around my neck.
At last, we arrived at the palace. We entered a paved courtyard flanked by verdant lawns. Hedges with archways hinted at gardens beyond. A sweeping staircase graced the front of the palace, leading up to a set of gleaming bronze doors. A peachy sun hung beyond the palace walls before finally dipping out of sight, leaving the fire baskets the task of piercing the dismal gloom.
My pulse raced, and my body itched with anticipation.
Brenin stood in the center of the courtyard as our company drew up. My breath hitched. He looked all the king he should have been. So confident in posture. So strong in stature.
He was going to be mine.
Whoa. Deep breaths.
A servant held his torch high, lighting Brenin’s face in the dim light. Brenin took the reins of my horse and steadied the beast.
Don’t faint.
I looked into his familiar eyes as he gazed up at me. His face showed sincere affection, setting my rapidly beating heart at ease.
After taking my hand, Brenin helped me down, and with a playful tug, pulled me close. In my weariness from the long day, I was caught off guard by his forwardness. I dipped my head and giggled like a silly lovestruck girl.
I am so ridiculous.
Brenin lifted my chin and kissed me tenderly on the cheek. His lips were warm, and he smelled like dewy grass.
Slide those lips a little closer to mine.
I could dream.
I exhaled forcefully, squashing disappointment when his lips moved away.
Brenin’s mouth quirked, and he pushed my hair back as
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