Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Verin’s dead. Verin’s dead. I killed her.
The horrific realization of what I’d just done pummeled me over and over. Kole kept trying to reassure me, kept telling me it wasn’t me who’d killed her, but the block. That the block placed in her mind had ultimately shattered her brain, then broken her neck.
But I’d pushed too much. Unknowingly, I’d triggered the block to kill her.
Kole replaced the cuff on my wrist, and then he and I were taken out of the cell. Questioned. Assessed. Interrogated.
I sat through it all and tried to answer each question the prison staff had for me as best as I could, but the entire time, only one thought kept pounding into my brain.
I’d killed Verin.
Because if I hadn’t questioned her, if I hadn’t kept pushing, she wouldn’t have died.
But the prison staff didn’t agree with me. And neither did Kole. They all concluded that it was the block that’d killed Verin, and not me, so they finally let us leave.
The second we were clear of the prison’s wards, Kole mistphased us back to the palace, back to the chambers my parents had placed me in.
My mother and father were there, anxiously awaiting us as afternoon sunshine streamed through the windows.
“Anything?” my mother asked.
“No,” Kole answered for me. “Even Prim’s magic couldn’t uncover who’s behind this. Verin’s dead.”
“Dead?” My father’s eyes widened, and thankfully, Kole told them everything, not making me relive that horrific moment.
But hearing the details only heightened my parents’ concern, because Verin’s death solidified how dangerous my situation was. Whoever was behind it wasn’t above killing others to prevent their capture.
I tuned out most of Kole’s explanation, but his final comment broke through the haze in my mind.
“The block placed in Verin’s mind was brittle. It was obviously designed to kill if confronted by a fairy who had the ability to break through it. There’s no way Primelle or any of us could have known that this would be the outcome. Primelle’s blaming herself, but it’s not her fault.”
“Prim?” My mother clasped my hands and took me to the couch. Worry coated her face.
“I’m okay,” I said automatically.
I was still processing, still reeling over what had happened, and even though I felt sick at what I’d done, I also knew that Verin had been out to destroy my family and me, and Kole’s firm belief that her death couldn’t have been foreseen helped alleviate some of the initial guilt I’d felt.
Still, I was responsible for her passing. I would have to carry that with me for the rest of my life.
My mother placed an arm around me, murmuring words of apology. I cast a glance at Kole. He had stationed himself near the door, and he was watching me with concern burning in his eyes.
“Primelle?” My mother’s soft question pulled my attention back to her. Tears formed in her eyes, and sorrow leaked into her aura. “It’s time, my darling. You did everything you could to get the information we needed, but it didn’t work.”
The finality of her words hit me like a brick wall, and all thoughts of Kole vanished. A ball of grief clogged my throat, and a soft mewl escaped me. “Are you saying that you’re going to order the Imperial Council to cast the Stone’s wish now, and it’s not going to be to save Timith?”
She and my father shared a devastated look.
“Yes,” my father finally said. “I’m sorry, Prim.”
My parents left, and I stayed at the window. Tears rolled down my cheeks in steady rivers as I waited for the inevitable. Waited for the sky to change. Waited for the realm to reveal that my wish was gone. Waited for Timith to die or suffer a fate worse than death.
Throughout my suffering, Kole stood silently, but twice, he tried to approach me. At my back, his presence was palpable, but each time he started to say something, I’d shaken my head.
Nothing could be said that would make any of this better, and instead of forcing words or showing frustration at my pain, he’d simply retreated to his position near the wall.
And for some reason, his steady silence provided a balm of comfort at a time when I didn’t think any comfort was possible, and that strange thing in my chest yearned for him again.
But too much was happening with my uncle for me to consider any of that.
So I waited for the inevitable.
Time ticked by. First by minutes, then hours. Late afternoon approached, but nothing happened.
The sky remained clear.
The birds continued to sing.
Nothing shook the ground to alert me to the Stone’s magic being released.
When evening was upon us, I finally turned away from the window to face Kole. He hadn’t moved from his guarding position, yet I’d felt him watching me.
Lifting my chin, I frowned heavily. “Why haven’t they cast their wish yet?”
His brow furrowed slightly, and it was enough of a deviation from his usual blank expression that I knew he’d been wondering the same thing. He opened his mouth to reply, but a sharp knock came on my door, and then my parents and several other fae burst into the room.
My jaw dropped to the floor because the Wishing Stone was cupped in my father’s palm.
Its starlight bathed my chambers in an array of blazing color, and my father held the Stone out to me, his expression one of complete exasperation.
“The Stone won’t accept anyone’s wish,” he huffed. “No matter what the Council or I try, it won’t accept it.”
For a moment, all I could do was stare at him. My mother looked as though she’d been crying, and the fae with them began to blubber and plead.
“Your Majesty, I do beg your forgiveness, but there’s nothing further we can do,” one of the fae said. “We can’t make the Stone do as you want. Everything we’ve tried has failed.”
Another dipped his head in agreement. “As we’ve been trying to explain to you, it’s likely because you’re not the Stone’s finder.
We consulted with a gargoyle scholar, and they confirmed that previous wishes were all made by the fairy who found the Stone.
It’s quite likely the Stone’s magic has been bound to the princess, and that’s the reason it will not accept anyone else’s wish.
Unfortunately, all of this is out of our control. ”
My eyes widened even more, and for the first time since they’d left, a ray of hope filled my soul. “You’re saying that only I can use the Wishing Stone?”
One of the fae, who I could only assume was a scholar, nodded. “Yes, that’s what we believe.”
Disbelief hit me first, then fierce determination. I took a step toward my father, toward the Stone that was rightfully mine.
My father, the king, didn’t try to stop me when I took it from him, and the second my hands closed over the heavy gem, it pulsed, and a tingle of magic zinged up my arms. Yes, its magic seemed to convey, I’m yours. You have been deemed worthy.
I wrapped my hands around it, my hope turning into a wide smile. “Only I can cast its wish because it belongs to me. I found it.”
“Primelle, please, listen to us.” My mother clasped my forearm, her worry so palpable that it filled the room. “Cast your wish to reveal who’s after you. Please. I beg it of you.”
For a moment, all I could do was blink at her.
Without her illusion, it was uncanny how similar the queen and I looked.
While we didn’t look identical, standing side by side, it would have been easy for fae to spot the similarities between us.
We both had long dark-brown hair. The blond hair Opalin had worn was gone.
Similar eye shape and a slightly larger upper lip compared to our lower lip were also traits we shared.
It was rather obvious we were mother and daughter.
I’d never noticed the likeness between us before, probably because the few times I’d ever seen her had been from afar, and my aunt and uncle had never hung portraits of the royal family in our home.
Not as some fae did. Now, I realized it was probably so I would never make the connection or comment that the queen and I looked alike.
Remorse at her despair filled me, but my resolve grew. “I’m sorry, Mother, but no. I’m going to save Timith.”
“Prim,” my father said, his voice stern. “You need to cast the wish to reveal who’s threatening you. I know you want to save Timith. We all do. But saving you is more important.”
My lips thinned. “No.”
He took a step closer to me. “I’m still the king. I still command what happens in this kingdom.”
My lips parted, and my mother gasped.
“Is that what this has come to?” I said softly. “You lie to me my entire life, and now you demand that I obey you? Is that how our new life is to start together?”
My mother covered her mouth, her shock apparent in her aura. She gave my father a reproachful look, and after a tense moment between us, his shoulders sagged, and he fell to the couch. He sighed heavily, so heavily, it was as if the weight of the realm was upon his shoulders.
“No,” he finally said, his voice hoarse. “Gods no, that’s not how I want you to think of me.”
At his broken tone, something in me gentled, and a part of me understood how heartbreaking this was for them. They had the ability to find who’d been after me my entire life, yet in order to demand that, they would have to treat me as their subject. Not their daughter.
I sat beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Father. I know how much you and Mother want answers, but . . .” I shrugged. “I love Timith too much to not save him.”
My mother joined him at the couch. She wrapped her arm around him, and when he lifted his eyes to mine, sorrow filled them. “All we’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe.”
Tears coated my eyes, and I squeezed his hand. “I know.”
Silence passed between us, but when I didn’t relent nor cave to their wishes, my father and mother sagged together, their auras panicked but their expressions resigned.
They’d known me my entire life. They knew how much I loved Timith, and they knew my mind was made up.