Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
The truth shows up in the unlikeliest of places.
— From the journal of Violet Andrever
And with his words, I broke free of the spell.
Take me home? What in the name of Erde was that supposed to mean?
My thoughts came thundering back, sharp and now thoroughly annoyed. Who exactly was this man waltzing into my life and announcing he was here to take me anywhere? As if I had no say in the matter.
I glanced around our cozy little cottage, the furniture worn with age but comfortable. The warm oak floors. The faded green curtains surrounding the open windows, blowing gently with the breeze. This was home.
Nana motioned me to sit at the table, and I followed her summons blindly, his words whirling in my head and stirring an idea in the back of my mind that there was something more out there, beyond the confines of the village. Something that called to me.
I traced the whorls in the wood of the table.
Years ago, Nana and I had taken turns carving designs into the edge of the table.
Mine were fairly basic and childish—shapes like hearts and stars.
Nana had an actual talent for it, though, and had carved scenes—birds in nests, foxes alert and at attention, and my favorite, a little girl and her grandmother standing hand in hand.
The man—Griffin—sat cautiously across from me, his face now an expressionless mask. I ignored him, looking only at Nana.
“Explain.”
She looked at me forlornly. “You stepped beyond the stones, didn’t you?”
I had never heard such resignation in her voice, and I bristled. Clearly, she had been hiding considerable information from me.
“What of it?”
For the first time in my life, she appeared at a loss for words.
“I come from a kingdom called Serentyn,” Griffin started, before running his hand through his hair.
“And?” I prompted.
“I hadn’t expected you to be so young,” he muttered under his breath.
“Excuse me?” My voice rose in irritation.
Nana placed a hand over mine, silently reminding me to take a breath.
Shooting him an undecipherable look, she continued, “Serentyn is where you were born. I took you from there when you were young, to protect you from an enemy who sought to destroy everything we held dear.” She let out a shaky breath.
“It’s been so long since I’ve thought about that time. ”
I crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t want to feel sorry for her. She had brought this on herself.
“Your parents, along with your aunt, died as part of a battle, a devastating battle, with that enemy—”
“What?” I interrupted, half-rising from my chair. My entire life, she had told me my parents had died in an accident—not killed by some ancient foe. “How could you lie to me, let me believe—”
Nana held up a hand, her eyes tired. “Let me finish.”
I settled back into my chair, arms crossed. How much more of my life was a lie?
“Some believed that the three of them were foretold in a prophecy that claimed they would vanquish this dark power. Oh, how wrong they were.” Nana’s voice caught. She looked down at the table before meeting my eyes with an expression I’d never seen before—regret mixed with resolve.
“My people—our people—have access to a power called channels. And the ancient foe wanted it. Eons ago, our people created a Veil over the kingdom to shield us from his eyes. But the Veil has been failing.” She reached across the table and squeezed my arm. “I know I’m not making this very clear.”
Correct, Nana. This was clear as mud.
Griffin spoke, in his deep voice. “There is a need for you to return. A need for the princess of Serentyn.”
“A princess.” My voice was flat as I swung my gaze to Nana. “You’re telling me I’m a fucking princess?”
Nana just nodded as he said, “That is correct,” in a maddeningly calm manner.
“And I’m supposed to… what? Pack up my entire life and embrace my princess destiny because some strange man in fine clothes with swords shows up at my doorstep and tells me so?”
He blinked lashes that were surprisingly long and dark for someone whose hair was so light, and glanced down at his clothes. As he raised his head, something flickered in the depths of those hazel eyes. “It’s as you said. It is your destiny.”
What the hell did he know about my destiny?
“More than you do,” he replied evenly.
I guess I had said that part out loud.
“So tell me, strange man in fine clothes with swords, what is my destiny?”
He hesitated, not long, but I saw it. “There are some,” he began slowly, “who believe the lost princess is the one who will save us all.”
I stood abruptly, and he stopped talking, but I didn’t acknowledge the concerned look he gave me. Because what did you do when you found out your whole life was a lie while the mud on your shirt stiffened and flaked onto the floor? You changed your clothes.
I certainly couldn’t change anything else during this talk of destiny. I didn’t even know if I believed in fate, and now I was being told I was some prophesied savior and a princess to boot. What other lies were I about to learn?
I ducked into my bedroom and hurriedly stripped off my ruined clothes and boots before changing into a clean shirt and pants. Lacing a vest quickly over the shirt, I pulled on my spare pair of boots. There was no time to deal with my hair.
Taking a deep breath to restore some order to my reeling thoughts, I walked back out to the kitchen, where I leaned against a counter. Too much energy was coursing through my veins to do something as mundane as sitting.
“Explain. More.” My tone was harsh, and I didn’t care.
“You are the princess of Serentyn, prophesied to defeat the darkness and restore balance to the world,” he said evenly.
Right. That’s an explanation.
“Princess.” The word came out flat. “Like something out of a fairy tale with a kingdom and a castle and everything?”
“Yes.”
“And who are you exactly? Some sort of knight?” I demanded of Griffin.
“Actually, your Champion.”
What. The. Fuck?
“Say I believe you,” I said in a tone that made it abundantly clear I didn’t.
Except something in his words resonated with me.
Something felt right. Like nothing in my life had before today.
But I ignored that. “Say I am a princess.” I rounded on Nana.
“That would make you…” I trailed off, unable to voice that thought.
“A queen?” she finished, with her eyebrows raised. “That would be correct. Or former queen, I should say. Your mother held that title last.”
Too much. This was too much. I spun back to the window, staring unseeing at the landscape of fields and trees in front of me.
“Which makes you a princess. The only princess,” Griffin said.
“I’m not a princess!” I shouted.
“But you are,” Griffin said evenly from behind me. I hadn’t realized he had come so close.
I thought of myself as a fairly even-tempered person, fairly grounded, but there was only so much I could take. I whirled back to him, and my arm kept going. I punched him with all my might.
It was like hitting a brick wall. Godsdamn, that hurt! And to add insult to injury, he didn’t so much as blink.
“Ow,” he said dryly.
Fuck. Him.
I tried to surreptitiously massage my hand as I slouched over to my chair, where Nana sat waiting for my outburst to be over.
Did he have abs of steel or something?
“As I was saying,” Nana continued as though there had been no interruption, “your parents’ reign began shortly before you were born.
After so long, the crown had chosen another.
And it couldn’t have chosen better. Thom and Mira had all the makings of exceptional rulers.
Before they tragically died, saving all of us, they asked me to keep you safe.
To get you away from there and protect you. And so I did.”
I rested my head in my hands as I tried to block out her words, but they seeped through.
“But what Lord Narvene is saying is correct.”
Of course he was a lord. More bloody royalty. Or nobility. Or whatever the hell he was.
She continued, “You are needed there, little one. People are dying. And it has been foretold that you are the one to save them. And as much as I’ve fought it these past twenty-odd years, destiny has a way of catching up with you. As it did with your parents. As it will with me.”
So many years I’d begged her for stories of my parents.
And she’d told me of them. How my mother, Mireya, nicknamed Mira, had stick-straight hair like mine, but as fair as mine was dark.
She was a healer, one of the best in her trade.
How my father, Thomrin, called Thom, had my eyes—the Andrever eyes.
How much he had loved both of us, his skill as a warrior, inspiring me to be like him.
But never once had she even remotely let on they were royalty.
And she’d never even hinted they had been killed facing some ancient foe.
Some accident that was.
Nana knew I needed a moment and had begun asking her own questions of my Champion. “How long has it been?”
“Fifty years.”
Fifty years? But Nana had taken me away as a baby—during a battle, apparently—and I had turned twenty-two in the spring. I might not have known a lot of things about my life, apparently, but I think I would know if I was in my fifties instead of my twenties.
“Garrett had theorized that time moved differently beyond the Veil,” Nana mused.
“He knew?” Griff said sharply.
“Your father was the one who suggested it,” was her simple reply.
“And what exactly is the Veil?” I asked.
They ignored me.
“Zachariah said—” Griff started.
Nana scoffed. “My mate always did like posturing.” It wasn’t the first time I’d heard Nana say something derisive about her husband, but it was the first time I’d heard her call him her mate, whatever that meant.
And if the Veil was supposed to protect us from this evil set on destroying us, why did Nana take me beyond it? The questions were stacking up.
A voice said my name from somewhere behind me.
“Lexa?” The voice was insistent.
I closed my eyes in resignation; just what I needed. Tanner.