Parasite Soul by Jags Chris

Author:Jags, Chris [Jags, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-15T22:00:00+00:00

IX

Prince Anton Stallix of Quell was passably easy on the eyes, Tiera decided, but he was exceptionally tedious. He had little on his mind save for hunting, boars specifically, of which he claimed to have singlehandedly slaughtered a great many - despite the fact that he looked like he’d have difficulty bending a willow branch without assistance. Having been obliged to tolerate his vacuous rambling at a number of feasts since his arrival, and now again, she now leaned upon the parapet and fantasized about a gust of wind strong enough to sweep him off the great Vingate Bridge and into the tepid, filthy waters of the channel below.

Diamond mines, she reminded herself before she could substitute herself for the imaginary wind and perform the deed herself. Think of Quell’s diamond mines.

Prince Stallix was just nervous, she told herself, which didn’t improve matters as anxiety was hardly what she looked for in a mate. Still, the man hadn’t left his isolated hermit kingdom in years; he had no idea how to behave in Cannevish society. Twitchy and introverted, he clearly expected betrayal at every turn. His wilderness adventures were undoubtedly designed to boost his sense of machismo, as he seemed more likely to belong to a quilting circle than the brotherhood of hunters he described over and over and bloody over.

“Had you not been there, you could scarcely imagine the size of the brute,” the prince was saying, peeling a colorless wisp of ethereal hair from his forehead and tucking it into his hideous conical hat. Whatever else came of the proposed partnership between Cannevish and Quell, Tiera had decided, an exchange of fashions was not in the offing. “Enormous! Hair like a porcupine’s quills! Tusks which could choke a shark! He was backed into a corner… you never saw such hate in a beast’s eyes!”

Tiera yawned. She made no attempt to disguise it. Even the peasants scurrying along the edges of the canal below were more intriguing than this man.

The prince carried on unruffled. “Even with the certain blessing of Avana, I knew my skills would be put to the test.”

Avana was the goddess of the hunt in Quell, Tiera vaguely recalled; a false deity, as any true-blooded Cannevishite knew. She said nothing, allowing the man the silly foreign delusions he would be forced to repress once their union was sealed. Tiera was no devout worshipper of Vanyon – she didn’t see the point. As royalty, she imagined she was guaranteed access to his Hall without any great effort on her part. The Cannevish clergy would never accept the prince’s blasphemous notions, however, and nor would the masses.

“Fortunately, I had my father’s spear, the same legendary weapon that…”

“Fortunate indeed,” Tiera interrupted, smiling coldly. “And I’d love to hear all about it, but we have more pressing concerns.”

Prince Stallix drew himself up indignantly, pursing his lips. Tiera thought he might burst out of his tights, which left so little to the imagination that they were hardly necessary in the first place.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.