CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE #3
Orsete, I prayed, begged, what did it mean? What was that dream? What was happening?
And then, almost as if she had answered me herself, something the Hermit told me about the prophecy came back to my mind. Something that had been overshadowed by my worries for Brennan.
“Evil from the Doom, evil we thought was long gone and buried, destroyed—has found a way to survive. It has not only resurfaced but is slowly beginning to wake up. It cannot yet, and it will not be able to do so until the birth of a child.”
I closed the locket and placed it back in the bag, stuffing it all inside my pillowcase. Was it possible that the evil we thought long gone and buried was a God? Was the whole purpose of the child born of Eskalon and Azeal meant to be the one who would battle against Batrir when he returned?
As Azete, I could not receive prophecies. Not like another witch. But what I possessed was years of study
I’d read many of the recordings in the Book of Orsete.
I’d read the histories, the legends, the fairy tales, the theories.
And in all of them, there was one common fact.
Batrir had been known to control chimera.
And according to tradition in Eskalon, his armor was supposed to be handed down through the ruling line, worn by the crown prince.
Brennan didn’t have the armor. He’d never worn it. Yet, Brennan was at the center of the Hermit’s prophecy. And Brennan was the one who had been attacked by chimera twice in under a month. Chimera who told me twice they wanted the prince.
Did the chimera want the armor for Batrir himself? Did they think Brennan had possession of it? Or were they truly hunting Brennan himself?
I didn’t know. But whatever it was, he was in danger. No longer just from me, nor from Jaron and House Bathiner and its supporters—but from Batrir himself.
And despite how he felt about me, or what he planned to do next, he needed to be warned.
I reached for a robe, and tied it tight around my waist, adding slippers and heading for the door.
A dozen knights stood guard outside, each one alert and armed, their tunics layered over their steel revealing the sigil of House Lafir, the blue moonstag and the red flames behind its wings. It was exactly as Brennan had promised.
“Princess Olivay,” they all began to murmur, and bowed. One stepped forward, the leader I presumed, a guard I’d seen on nearly every one of my morning shifts.
“You’re to stay in your room until His Highness says so.” He bowed. “For your safety.”
“I need to see the prince,” I demanded. “At once.”
The leader nodded. “He said you may leave only to go to him in the morning. His room is just there.” He pointed to the door right next to mine.
Only a wall had separated us all night. Barely enough to keep the Azete from feeding if his thoughts of me had been strong enough.
I turned and knocked on the door as the leader of his guard announced my presence. “Good morning, Your Highness. Princess Olivay requests an audience with you.”
There was no answer. I knocked again and again, and finally, Brennan opened the door, his eyes full of sleep, dark circles underneath them. He looked awful, like he hadn’t slept at all, or if he had, it had been fitful with terrible dreams.
“Your Highness,” I said formally, my heart thundering. “I need to speak with you.”
He frowned, a mix of fire and sleep in his eyes, but held the door open wide, nodding at the guards standing behind me.
Then he closed it, leaving us alone. Our only source of light was the early stirrings of the sun shining through the window, its glass streaked with raindrops. A small respite from the storm.
I stared at his hand, at his golden sigil ring. The same one I’d seen him wear dozens of times. The ring I’d worn in my dream when I—No. It hadn’t been my dream. I hadn’t shifted in it.
I looked at the wall separating his bedroom from mine. Not enough to stop the Azete from feeding, not when his feelings were this strong, and his body this close.
I’d been in his dream. Just as I’d been before. My heart thundered. He’d connected to my mind like the night we spent together in the city, when I’d been pulled into his dream. And before, when he was still delirious from drowning at the lake.
“Do you remember your dream from last night?” I asked him.
“What?”
“Brennan,” I said. “I’m serious, do you remember your dream?”
He nodded his head. “There was a chimera. And I–I had to save you.”
It wasn’t me though, at least not a version of me he knew. It was me as Princess Shamhira, me in the form he didn’t—couldn’t know about, a form he had never seen. Not since I was a girl.
Except he had seen my form before, both times when he’d been unconscious–at the lake, and when I slept in his arms.
What the hell!
“I saw your dream,” I said. “More than that, I was … I was you.”
“What? Is that—” he frowned. “Is that part of your power? Part of what you can do?”
“Sometimes. It’s rare. It happens only if—”
“Only if I’m dreaming about you,” he said.
I nodded.
“And did you feed from me when you did that?”
“Brennan …”
“Did you?”
I nodded.
He exhaled sharply.
“Brennan, you know what I am, and I know everything’s a mess between us, and you hate me, but—”
There was an urgent and loud knock at the door.
Our eyes met, and I could see Brennan preparing to send the intruder away.
He wanted to speak with me further. He needed to.
Besides what I had to tell him, we had unfinished business between us.
But the guard announced a visitor for the crown prince and did not wait for permission to allow him inside.
Before Brennan could speak, the door was already opening.
Rowan burst into the room, his face flushed with nearly as much red as his hair. “Brennan, oh, I’m sorry—Princess Olivay.” He nodded, bowing quickly.
I frowned. He hadn’t told Rowan about me. Why not? Had he told anyone? I’d been so worried when I woke, I forgot how precarious my position was. But my scar wasn’t burning, and it had been strangely dormant last night as Brennan figured out the truth.
Was it because he hadn’t sent me away yet?
“Your Highnesses.” Rowan closed the door behind him, taking quick strides to the center of the room. “I do not mean to intrude upon your morning, but—”
“What’s happened?” Brennan asked. “Is everything all right?”
Rowan shook his head. “Princess Olivay, I suggest you return to your room. Now. They’re coming to rouse Brennan from bed.
The King and his entire council. It’s best if they don’t find you here.
With what happened last night, the chimera attack, and what your father,” his eyes met Brennan’s, “is now referring to as an act of treason by House Bathiner, he sent the King and Queen of Spartva back home for their safety.”
My mouth dropped. “What? They’re … they’re gone? The king and queen—my parents?”
Brennan’s brows narrowed, watching me continue the lie. But he said nothing.
Rowan nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, princess.
They were put into a carriage set for the castle at dawn, and will board a ship to Spartva tonight,” he said.
“King’s orders. They could not refuse or wait to say goodbye to you.
I know they wished to. I’m sure they’ll send word as soon as they can. ”
I felt numb. They weren’t really my parents, and it was good they were gone, away from me, away from any more chances of me stealing years of their lives.
But they’d also left before the real Olivay could be freed.
Before Brennan could tell them the truth.
Before I could be punished for what I’d done.
And before I could say goodbye to the only other woman who had ever acted like a mother to me, even if she had done so unknowingly.
“There’s more,” Rowan said, looking even more uneasy.
“In order to counteract any stories and rumors of what,” he sighed, “what happened last night outside the clearing with Lord Stephen, Sir Donavan, Sir Erick, and the princess, to get ahead of any questions regarding your,” he pressed his lips together, his eyes on me, “your virtue, and the legitimacy of the crown prince’s heir, King Tirian moved up your wedding.
” His head swiveled back and forth, looking at us both, as he said, “Instead of the ceremony taking place inside of the temple of Castle Lafir at the start of next week as planned, you will be wed here, at the lodge. Tonight.”