Wind Over Bone: The Estralony Cycle #2 (Young Adult Fantasy Romance) by E. D. Ebeling Read Free Book Online Page A

frightened,” he said to her. “It wasn’t a threat. Though I’ll allow I don’t think my little brother knows much about you.” He smiled. “Why are you here? To depose the Pashes? You have my blessing.”
    Rischa’s eyes rolled upward, and he yelled, “If you want help you shouldn’t beat it around the head.”
    “Help,” said Savvel. “I keep forgetting I need it.” He rapped his knuckles on the table. “I’ll be nice, Rischa, if it contributes to your peace of mind. Now, I suppose we must talk,” he said to Sarid, “about my little nightmares. But I’d rather my brother didn’t hear, caring as I do for his peace of mind.” (Rischa blew air from his cheeks.) “So I wonder, could you bear it if he left for a while? And do sit down.” He pushed out the other chair with his feet. “So I stop feeling like a boor.”
    Sarid sat down, tongue-tied and sweating. “Go on,” she said to Rischa. “There are––things––” Fear seized her and she was incapable of more.
    “You heard her,” said Savvel. “I won’t throw her out the window. Not before we’ve got used to each other.”
    “ Not sure I should,” muttered Rischa.
    “ Go.” Sarid pushed her jerking hands between her legs, and Rischa let himself out.
    “ I’m checking back in just a bit.” He looked at her significantly—she couldn’t tell what for—and shut the door.
    Savvel sat back and tilted his head. “You’re frightened of me,” he said. “Why?”
    “What do you want?”
    “ I want you to help me.”
    She folded her skirts and then smoothed them. “How could I possibly help you?”
    “You’re saebeline.”
    “ You’re a lunatic.”
    “ And that’s the curious thing, isn’t it?”
    She found a hole in her skirts and set to making it wider.“No one believes a lunatic.”
    “Except his brother.”
    Sarid could feel the blood rushing up her neck, over her face.
    “The terror pumps from the heart,” said Savvel. He leaned his chair against the wall. “Sarid is in love with Rischa. Sarid and Rischa.” His smile was infuriating. “What your grandmother did is inconsequential to me, Sarid. A rumor. The same, vengeful blood may run in your veins, but love runs hotter.”
    The veins stood out in Sarid’s hands. Her hair lifted in a cold wind. She turned to see where it came from, but there was nothing, no window open. He was still smiling, as though he could see something she couldn’t, and she said angrily, “What is it, anyway? What’s wrong with you?”
    “You and everyone else”––he rolled his knuckles over the table––“and the stones and the birds and the trees do an excellent job pretending. But there’s really nothing here but a hole.”
    “ If that’s what you’ve decided, then I can’t help you.”
    “ I haven’t decided anything. It wasn’t my choice.”
    “ Why do you think I can cure you? Maybe it’s just who you are.”
    He leaned in, suddenly serious. “I certainly hope not. For your sake. It was a big mistake you made at that ball. Once my father finds out, you’re stuck with me whether you want it, whether I want it, or not. And if ever I were to become Ravyir, they’ll bundle you straight off to Anturvy and make you a royal medic, so you’d best get used to me.”
    Rischa reappeared in the doorway then, and Savvel put the smile back on his face, and let her go. The sun had gone completely. The oil lamps flickered and made watery reflections in the windows, and Sarid could have run down the hall so great was her relief.
    Rischa was silent on the subject of his brother. He seemed more interested in her. “Why do you dress like that?” he said. “Don’t you get cold in those shreds?”
    “They’re not shreds.” She played with the frayed lace on a sleeve. “Ladies wear them once and throw them away. Why’re you asking? Were you planning on making me a royal medic?”
    Rischa laughed. “Did he threaten you with that? No, I don’t think so.” Then, “Who are