Insolent: A Dark Retelling by Cynthia A. Rodriguez & Sinister Collections

Insolent: A Dark Retelling by Cynthia A. Rodriguez & Sinister Collections

Author:Cynthia A. Rodriguez & Sinister Collections [Rodriguez, Cynthia A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-08T16:00:00+00:00


Moira’s meals with Sol have come to possess a certain knowing silence to them. There are eyes that meet and hands that brush. Words that pass through the scraping of utensils on ornate dishes, and after they’ve finished, she wonders if she’s made it all up in her head.

Until she rests with him at night.

She falls asleep on the floor and always wakes up beside him. Always.

And when she wakes up, it’s to his gaze.

Always.

This morning, Moira wakes in his bed again, sighing into the pillow before her eyes open with surprise.

His hand is on her. It’s under her gown, resting on her bare stomach. She can’t tell—her body facing away from his—if he’s still sleeping. But the sound of his even breathing has her thinking so.

She isn’t so naïve to think anything of substance could come from this interaction. Because the warmer Sol is to her, the colder the other occupants are. His driver hardly looks her way anymore.

Ella’s initial friendliness has turned into a cordiality that makes Moira think there’s something more to her position here; something that makes Moira more of an enemy than ever before.

Sol shifts in his sleep and she knows the moment he wakes.

He snatches his hand away as if it’s caught fire.

“Good morning,” Moira offers, turning over as he sits up—his back to her now.

“Today, we’ll find your brother,” he says.

Not another word is shared before he steps out of the room.

Moira hadn’t been granted a full look at his face; only his side profile as he walked away from her like she’d invited his hand on her skin.

It was the first time a man had touched her in such a way.

She pulls her gown up, staring at the pale expanse of skin. She feels so branded that surprise resides within her when there is nothing there.

Sol walks back into the room just as she’s pulled her gown back down.

“I have something for you,” are the words that greet her.

When she looks at him, he doesn’t return the favor. But the moment her eyes catch on the items in his hands, she stirs.

Her feet meet the floor as her hands reach for the bow and satchel of arrows he holds up.

She thanks him, not knowing until this very moment that she desired a connection with her past life and her current one. That in this moment, she feels more herself than ever before.

In her past, she’d loved archery. Loved it because she was good at it. Some days, it felt as though it was the only thing she’d been good at.

And once arrows pierced flesh, she itched to feel it again. Deep within her dreams, she wanted to stain the walls with splashes of crimsons and hues of reds.

If she were to express the words outright, she’d think herself a monster.

But in the company of Sol, would it truly matter?

“I have never seen you smile so genuinely, girasol.” Sol’s eyes are appraising her when she meets them for a moment.

“I have never been so genuinely happy before.



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