61. Forbidden to Intervene
Chapter sixty-one
Forbidden to Intervene
O n their return to Farrowvale Palace, Solveig made straight for her guest chambers with nary a glance in Adira’s direction. That evening she was woken from her restless slumber to the sound of someone pounding on her door, a deep, smooth voice shouting beyond it,
“Open the door, Princess.”
She made no move to do so, having no desire to confront him now. Not when it felt as though her entire world was crashing down around her.
She spent hours locked away in that room. The servants of Farrowvale were the only ones allowed entry, as they carried fresh trays of food and drinks in every few hours. For a full night and day, she pondered everything that Adira had placed at her feet. Resigned to the fact that she had already considered most of it herself over the past month. Her bones chilled, as she stared the knowledge in the face that if another person could connect the dots in the same way, then it couldn’t be by chance. It couldn’t be a mistake. She had to accept the possibility that something more sinister than her family was spreading through Osvolta.
She would need reassurances, just as Adira had needed from her before she agreed to help her. This was the only way it could work. Solveig would not jeopardise everything now, not on a hunch that could cost them all their lives if they were wrong.
Still, she did not exit her rooms. Instead, enjoying the peace whilst she could. Lounging atop the chaise, drinking her coffee on the sun warmed balcony as the waves crashed against the palace walls, and the wind danced through the lush garden foliage. Farrenhold was a paradise to her, a beautiful salt kissed dreamscape she longed to hold on to forever, even as it rapidly slipped through her fingers.
The next evening, Solveig finally ventured beyond her closed door. Her footsteps echoing along the shining marble floors of the palace as she made her way out to the patio where a servant was attending her within seconds. Moments later, she had a bottle of chocolate spiked red wine and a spread of cured meats and aged cheeses alongside toasted bread on the table beside her. She watched the sky darkening across the ocean; the sun hanging low framed her body with its warm glow. She sipped her wine, savouring the warm chocolate notes, when a tall figure dressed all in black slid into the seat across from hers. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. Could already feel the heat blooming over her skin from his presence, and the anger that poured off him in waves. Eyes still gazing toward the horizon, she murmured.
“Did you have something to say, or do you intend to annoy me by just existing?”
“You lied to me. Again,” the prince’s mahogany curls were already in complete disarray before the breeze even caught hold of them. She wondered how long he’d been stewing over this.
“Your point?”
“I thought we were in this together.”
Solveig scoffed, gaze flicking across to him, “then you’re more na?ve than I thought.”
“Perhaps.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Or maybe I was hoping you wouldn’t let me down again.”
His words were meant to cut her, but she had drawn her walls back up so high they failed to lacerate. “Life is full of disappointments.”
“Why did you tell me the wrong time?”
“For the same reasons, I didn’t ask you to come to Farrenhold with me.”
“Which are?”
Solveig slowly placed her glass back on the table. Facing the prince fully now, she whispered, “that I didn’t want you here, that it’s not safe for you.”
“Not safe?” he questioned, ignoring the lie he’d sensed in her words. “And it’s safe for you, the Reaper of Luxenal, to go swanning around a foreign city?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but that doesn’t stop me fucking worrying about you,” he implored.
An eerie silence spread between them, almost choking the air as the last rays of the sun deserted them, and Farrenhold took on its usual nighttime blue haze.
“It’s not your responsibility to worry about me.”
“Like it or not, Princess,” he said, gaze falling to her shaking hands with a knowing smile. “I’ve already seen inside those walls you’ve painstakingly constructed. I’ve seen what every kill has done and continues to do to you. I see your weaknesses, and your strengths and I know you can hold your own in a fight, but this is foreign territory. Do you have any idea what it’s like to know you were out there wandering the streets? To know that anything could happen to you, and I wouldn’t be there to stop it, or even help, because I’m trapped here under Adira’s orders. First you lied, then you made me worry, and, to top it all off, you ignore me too.”
Solveig’s face betrayed no emotions. “I wasn’t aware that I owed you anything.”
“Owed me? No, you don’t owe me anything, but I thought we were friends.”
“We aren’t friends,” she laughed, eyes drifting skyward.
“Then what are we?”
“I don’t know what we are, but friends is not it.”
“Please,” he whispered, voice as gentle as morning sea mist. “Stop shutting me out. This is not yours to bear alone.”
Solveig finally glanced at the prince and saw the sincerity of his words in that flaming blue gaze. “If we do this together, there’s no going back,” she warned.
“I sailed halfway across the country to find you.” Emmerich replied, staring at her, trying his best to not let the hope kindle within him, “I have no intentions of turning back.”
“No one can know how close we’re working together.”
“Fine,” he seethed through gritted teeth, prepared to take whatever she offered. “Tell me what you know.”
As Solveig recounted the afternoon to the prince, he sat in rapt attention, focused solely on her. She, of course, left out a few choice details, mainly the conversation she and Adira had had about him. His ego was big enough already.
She divulged it all, right up to the prophecy, and the Seers, for that was not her secret to tell. Though she thought deep down that they could trust the prince with this information — given his blatant dislike for The Oracle — she wasn’t willing to break Adira’s trust.
But Emmerich caught her hesitation. “There’s something you’re holding back.”
“It’s not mine to tell.”
“Then whose is it?”
Solveig looked at him with desperate, pleading eyes. She had never begged for anything in her life, and yet here she was, on the verge of doing so; to protect her still repairing friendship.
“Most likely mine,” Adira said. Appearing as if from nowhere, they popped a grape into their mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. “Am I correct, Solveig?”
The princess merely nodded.
“Make no mistake, Prince, I am not yet convinced that I can trust you with my kingdom’s secrets.” They paused, pouring their own glass of wine. “However, given that your country lies outside The Oracle’s thrall, I will tell you this. My brothers and I come from a long line of Seers on our mother’s side. She used to tell me a prophecy every night before bed.”
“Which was?”
“Dark as night, a dangerous might. A kingdom torn. Royal born, to end our age-old plight.”
“Adira believes the prophecy to be accurate,” Solveig muttered, mostly into her own reclaimed glass of wine. “But as I told them in the library, the Seers were proven to be a race of charlatans. We cannot assume that the message is accurate. We don’t even know when it was supposed to fruition.”
Adira’s eyes simmered with anger at Solveig’s flippant remarks, and the implication that their deceased mother was a fraud.
The prince eyed them for a moment before taking a deep breath as he rubbed a hand down his face. His gaze fell to the floor.
“My grandmother was a Seer.”
“Excuse me?” Solveig cried while Adira whispered, “Impossible.”
Emmerich snatched the glass from Solveig’s hand, drinking down the remaining liquid before continuing.
“You heard me, Princess,” he said, burning her with his gaze, “and I assure you, Your Highness, it is possible.”
“The Seers deserted Osvolta. They took refuge in their home of Vanahold until it too, disappeared. No one knows what became of them.”
His gaze flicked to Adira then, “The Seers fled the mainland because The Oracle and its followers persecuted them. In Elithiend, they remained in their position as guardians of the future. We never abandoned them; you have my word on that.”
“How many?” Adira whispered in awe, “how many of them are left?”
“Hundreds,” Emmerich smiled, as tears threatened Adira’s eyes at the prospect of a piece of their soul not being lost after all.
“I should like to meet them one day.” They swallowed tightly. “My mother died when I was a child. I remember little of their ways beyond the prophecy she would tell me. That I would know when the time came to act, though I always found that statement odd.”
“Why?” Solveig asked. Trying to find her feet in a conversation that was completely foreign to her.
“Seers were bound by their gifts, Sol.” Adira smiled sadly, clutching her hand, “it is why their prophecies were vague. They could see the future, but were forbidden to intervene.”
Solveig pulled her hand from their grip. “Sounds convenient if you ask me,” she declared, snatching her glass back from the prince to refill it.
“You think knowing how your friends and family will die and being powerless to stop it is convenient?”
“They weren’t powerless.” Solveig shrugged, “if what you say is true, why can’t they warn everyone when something bad is coming?”
Adira shook their head, “you need to pay attention Solveig, nature…”
“Is an unstoppable beast,” she finished.
Adira nodded, “even if they went against their vow of secrecy. Nature would find a way. The journey to get there may change, but the destination is absolute.”