Illusions of Fate by Kiersten White EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Kiersten White
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Dear Mama,
I am most certainly not dead. Thank you for your tender concern. I will
try to write more often so you don’t have to worry so between letters.
(Because a week’s silence surely means I have fallen prey to a wasting
illness or been murdered in these boring, gray streets.)
School is going well. I am excelling in all of my classes. (Apparently,
some things never change, and girls are not challenged in Albion in the
same way they weren’t on Melei.) My professors are all intelligent and
kind. (Kind of horrible.) None stand out. (I refuse to mention him by name,
no matter how many obviously “subtle” questions you ask.) The other
students are also quite focused on their schooling, and none of us has much
time for socializing. Boys and girls attend separate classes as well, so no, I
have not met many interesting young men. (I am neither courting nor being
courted. Please stop hoping.)
Tell Aunt Li’ne thank you for the mittens. They are very much
appreciated in this cold, damp climate I am so unused to. And please tell
the sun hello and I miss her very much! I also miss you, of course. (I do.
Very much.)
All my love,
Jessamin
Reading over the letter to my mother, I am so absorbed in my head
with adding the true statements to my written words that I fail to pay
attention to the street. I cannot decide which shocks me more—nearly being
run over by the horse-drawn cart, or the fluid stream of cursing in my native
tongue that is being directed at me.
I look up, cheeks burning, and meet a pair of black eyes that,
combined with the familiarity of the language, hit me with a longing for
Melei so deep and painful I can scarcely draw a breath.
The man pauses, obviously surprised to see how dark of skin and eyes
I am in spite of my school uniform. And so I take the opportunity to insult
his manhood, his lineage, and his horse in a single, well-crafted turn of
phrase I haven’t used since my friend Kelen taught it to me when I was
fourteen.
He smiles.
I smile back.
Brushing his hand through the air in another gesture so achingly
familiar it brings tears to my eyes, he clicks his tongue and the cart moves
on, our near-collision forgotten.
He’s made me crave heat. The sun’s anemic rays pull more warmth
from me than they offer. I hate Albion, the whole gray country. I hate
Avebury, a city just as gray, teeming with people but coldly lifeless.
No. Homesickness does me no good. Wiping under my eyes, I
straighten my shoulders and march toward the hotel. I only have a couple of
hours before my shift to do my reading for tomorrow’s classes, and I will
not be anything less than the best. I cannot afford it.
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