The language is english, I have narrated my own audiobook before
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Teen (13-17)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
They're ridiculous. I say to Tarin who follows my gaze, I cannot deny that they're all so beautiful fairy lords and ladies just like in the song, if we didn't have to take lessons alongside them, if I didn't know firsthand what a scorch they were to those who displayed them, I'd probably be as in love with them as everyone else is, says that Cardin has a tail caring whispers. She saw it when she was swimming in the lake with him. And Princess Ria this past full moon night, I couldn't imagine Caron swimming in a lake jumping in the water, splashing people laughing at something other than their suffering. I tell you, I echo an incredulous smile starting on my face and then fading. When I remember that it didn't matter to tell me the story even though it must have happened days ago. Trees and a configuration of sisters. There's always one on the outside which I talked on the end, it curled up around his clothes and at first like a wig, she giggles and I can barely understand her next word said she wishes she had one. I'm glad she got one. I say firmly, which is stupid. I have nothing against tale. Then Cardin and his companions are too close for us to safely talk about them. I turn my gaze to the floor though. I hate it. I think to the ground on one knee, bend my head and grit my teeth by my side. Caring does something similar all around us. People are making obey phone. Don't look at us, I think, don't look as valerian passes. He grabs one of my braided horns. The others move on to the trunk as Valerian sneers down at me. Did you think I didn't see you there, you and your sister stand up in any crowd. He says leaning in clothes, his breath is heavy with the scent of honey wine. My hand falls into a fist in my side and I am conscious of the nearness of my life. Still. I do not look him in the eye, other head of hair so dull, no other face, so plain Valerian Prince card and call he's glowering already. And when he sees me, his eyes narrow further, Bolivian gives my brain a hard talk. I win useless fury coiling in my belly. He laughed and moved on my fury cuddled into shame. I wish I had smacked his hand away even though it would have made everything worse. Dari says something in my face. What did he say to you? I shake my head. Cardin had sat beside the boy with long copper hair and a pair of small mouth wings. A boy who is un bowing. The boy laughs and Cardin lunges between one eye blink and the next, the princess, both fist strikes the boy hard across the jaw sending him sprawling as the boy falls. Cardin grabs one of his wings. It stars like paper. The boy screams thin and greedy. He crawls up into himself on the ground agony playing on his face. I wonder if fairy wings grow back. I know that butterflies that lose a wing never fly again. The court around the scape and deeper, but only for a moment. Then they go back to their dancing and their song and their rebel spiral zone. This is how they are. Someone gets in Caron's way and they're instantly and brutally punished, driven from taking lessons at the palace. Sometimes out of the court entirely hurt, broken as garden walks past the boy apparently done with him. I am grateful that Cardin has five more worthy brothers and sisters. It's practically guaranteed that he'll never sit on the throne. I don't want to think of him with more power than he has even the cast. And Bolivian share a weighted glance that vail shrugs and follows Cardin. But Luke poses by the boy bending down to help him to his feet. The boy's friends come over to lead him away and at that moment improbably knock gate li his sty fox eyes meet mine and widening surprise. I am immobilized. My heart speeding. I raised myself for more scorn. But then one corner of his mouth lives. He wins as if in acknowledgement of being caught out as if we're sharing a secret as if he thinks I am not naughty as though he does not find my mortality contagious. Stop staring at him. Thought the man didn't you? See? I start to explain, but she cuts me off, grabbing hold of me and holding us toward the stairs toward our landing of shimmering stone where we can hide her nails, sink into my skin. Don't give them any more reason to bother you than they've already got. The intensity of her response surprises me into snatching back my head and we read half more marks where she grabbed me. I looked back around where lock was but the crowd has him out as dawn breaks, I open the windows to my bedroom and let the last of the cool night air flowing as I strip off my court dress. I feel hot all over my skin feels too tight and my heart will stop raising. I've been to court before many times. I've been witness to more awfulness than wings being torn. Or my person insulted fairies make up for their inability to lie with a panoply of deceptions and cruelties, twisted words, pranks, omissions, riddles, candles, not to mention their revenges upon one another. For ancient half remembered flight, storms are less pickle than they are, sees less corporation. Like for example, as a red cap, Mado needs bloodshed the way a mermaid needs the soft spray of the sea. After every battle, he ritually dips his hood into the blood of his enemies. I've seen the hood kept under glass in the armory. The favorite is Steve and stained of brown. So deep, it's almost black except for a few smears of green. Sometimes I go down and stare at it trying to see my parents in the tight lines of dried blood. I want to feel something, something besides the vague craziness. I want to feel more. But every time I look at it, I feel less. I think about going to the armory now. But I don't, I stand in front of my window and imagine myself a fearless night. Imagine myself a witch who hit her heart in her finger and then chopped her finger off and so tired. I said out loud, so tired. I sit there for a long time watching the rising sun build the sky listening to the way its crashes. The tide goes on. When a creature flies up to a light on the edge of my window. At first it seems like a, like an owl, but it's got hobby tired of what with me? It asked me. I sigh and answer honestly for one of being powerless. The hop studies my face then flies off into the night. I slip the day away and wake disoriented, battling my way out of the long embroidered curtains around my belt. Drew has dried along one of my cheeks. I find bad water waiting for me but it has gone. Tepid servants must have come and gone. I climb in any way and splash my face. Living in fairy. It's impossible not to notice that everyone else smells like vivia or crushed by needles, dried blood or milk weed. I smell like fit sweat and sour bread unless I scrub myself clean. When Taa Fell comes in to light the lamps. She finds me dressing for a lecture which begins in the late afternoon and stretches on into some evenings, I wear gray leather boots and a tunic with Maddox Crest. A dagger, a crescent moon turned on its side. So it rests like a cup and a single drop of blood falling from one corner in embroidered in silk shred downstairs. I find Tori at the banquet table alone nursing a cup of metal tea and speaking at the banner today, she does not suggest anything will be fun. Madock insists perhaps out of guilt or shame that will be treated like the Children of fairy that we take the same lesson that we be given. Whatever they have. Changelings have been brought to the high court before, but none of them has been raised like Gentry. He doesn't understand how much that makes them lotus. Not that I am not grateful. I like the lessons answering the lectures cleverly is something no one can take from me. Even if the lecturers themselves occasionally pretend otherwise, I will take a frustrated nod in place of effusive phrase. I will take it and be glad because it means I can belong whether they like it or not used to go with us. But then she became bored and didn't matter. Maddock raged. But since his approval of the team only makes her despise it all his railing just made her more determined to never ever go back. She has tried to persuade us to stay home with her. But if Tarin and I could not manage the vaccinations of the Children of without quitting our lessons or running to Maddock, how will he ever believe we can manage the court where those same machinations will play out on a grander and more deadly scale. Tarin and I set off swinging our baskets. We don't have to live in Mire to get to the hiking's palace. But we do skirt at the edge of two other tiny islands in Smore Isle of stone and in swell isle of wall, all three are connected by half submerged rocky paths and stones large enough that it's possible to leap your way from one to the next. A herd of sp is swimming towards this moor, seeking the best grazing tarin. And I walked past the lake of mass and through the far corner of the milk wood picking out or picking our way past the pale silvery trunks and bleached leaves from there. We spot mermaids and marrows sunning themselves near craggy cage. Their scales reflecting the amber glow of the late afternoon sun.