This is my favourite section – written today – from Chapter Two of my currently untitled fantasy novel. I love how it pretty much completely sets up the hook and contains so many little hints (for such a short passage). Disclaimer: this work is unedited and unproofed, but, as always feedback is welcomed and appreciated! – Meghan
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She broke the silence first; her voice husky from lack of use. “Do you know me?”
“Not how you mean,” he answered without prolonged thought. His tone was smooth, cultured.
“Do you know how old I am?” She turned so he could see her face in the moonlight.
He looked surprised by her question, and thought about his answer this time. “Some people … we celebrate your birth … on the summer solstice … next month.”
“Yes. I remember, and for how many years will these people have been celebrating my birth, next month?”
He hesitated again, like he sensed a trap. Like he sensed the panic and terrible lost lapping against the serene surface of her skin. “Twenty-six years,” he finally answered and chose in the same moment to step further forward, closer to the moonlight, so, as the realization of all the years she’d lost struggled to blow through the peaceful cocoon the evening sunset had provided, she also got her first look at him.
He, like everyone else, looked familiar, but more in a familial line sort or way … he looked a little like the Chancellor, except for the skin colouring. His son perhaps. Handsome, ruggedly refined.
Ten years.
She’d lost ten years.
