And a snippet, poor Kyren:
"You could truthspell me and find that I have not been assimilated by the person you are so afraid of," Amalea said, quite seriously. "And I give you leave to do so, if you are that far gone."
"And if I do, and you are bluffing--" Kyren couldn't help himself now. It was almost as if her words had loosened some dam inside of his mind. Perhaps that had been her intention. "Cousin, you say you've not been--assimilated. But I have. Oh, I have."
"Then tell me," Amalea urged, her gaze intense. "Tell me. Please, Kyren. I fear for your life as well as your sanity."
It was little enough that she cared. Kyren's throat was so dry that he had to swallow twice to speak. "Perhaps--Perhaps I should show you, then, Cousin. I do not spend all of my time in my rooms."
"Show me?" For the first time, Amalea looked uncertain. "Show me what?"
"I do not think she will dare attack you," Kyren said as if he had not heard her question. "You are too close to the throne and she has not achieved her goal, just yet."
"Who is this you speak of?" Amalea asked with little hope of being answered.
"This may mean my death," Kyren said, standing. He did not dare look at her. "But at least I can die with a clean conscience." When he turned away, Amalea caught his hand.
"Kyren, please." She gasped a little at his touch. "You're freezing cold!"
He shook her off and took a few steps, but not before he realized something wasn't quite right. He swayed, alarmed now, struggling to push past an almost overwhelming urge to succumb to the darkness that now swirled at the edges of his vision.
"When was the last time you ate a meal?" Amalea asked, her voice calm, but the expression on her face worried.
Kyren tried to answer her, but he couldn't find enough strength to speak. It wasn't a spell, this numbness, just simple exhaustion. The effect of living in terror for far too long.
She slid a chair under him as he collapsed. "This has gone on long enough! Kyren, what is wrong with you?"
"I'm lost," he whispered, and gave himself up to darkness.
I really don't intend Kyren to be a sissy, but boy is he asking for it. Pitiful!
I do wonder, though, why Kyren is one of my favorite POV characters.
Of course, the above snippet is copyright 2006 Jennifer St. Clair.
"You could truthspell me and find that I have not been assimilated by the person you are so afraid of," Amalea said, quite seriously. "And I give you leave to do so, if you are that far gone."
"And if I do, and you are bluffing--" Kyren couldn't help himself now. It was almost as if her words had loosened some dam inside of his mind. Perhaps that had been her intention. "Cousin, you say you've not been--assimilated. But I have. Oh, I have."
"Then tell me," Amalea urged, her gaze intense. "Tell me. Please, Kyren. I fear for your life as well as your sanity."
It was little enough that she cared. Kyren's throat was so dry that he had to swallow twice to speak. "Perhaps--Perhaps I should show you, then, Cousin. I do not spend all of my time in my rooms."
"Show me?" For the first time, Amalea looked uncertain. "Show me what?"
"I do not think she will dare attack you," Kyren said as if he had not heard her question. "You are too close to the throne and she has not achieved her goal, just yet."
"Who is this you speak of?" Amalea asked with little hope of being answered.
"This may mean my death," Kyren said, standing. He did not dare look at her. "But at least I can die with a clean conscience." When he turned away, Amalea caught his hand.
"Kyren, please." She gasped a little at his touch. "You're freezing cold!"
He shook her off and took a few steps, but not before he realized something wasn't quite right. He swayed, alarmed now, struggling to push past an almost overwhelming urge to succumb to the darkness that now swirled at the edges of his vision.
"When was the last time you ate a meal?" Amalea asked, her voice calm, but the expression on her face worried.
Kyren tried to answer her, but he couldn't find enough strength to speak. It wasn't a spell, this numbness, just simple exhaustion. The effect of living in terror for far too long.
She slid a chair under him as he collapsed. "This has gone on long enough! Kyren, what is wrong with you?"
"I'm lost," he whispered, and gave himself up to darkness.
I really don't intend Kyren to be a sissy, but boy is he asking for it. Pitiful!
I do wonder, though, why Kyren is one of my favorite POV characters.
Of course, the above snippet is copyright 2006 Jennifer St. Clair.
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