“It’s lovely,” Cora cut in before Mareleau could mention her curse again. “I’d be honored to be Noah’s godmother.”
“You know,” Mareleau said, drawing the words out slowly, “you could name him your heir.” When Cora didn’t reply, she rushed to add, “Temporarily if you wanted. Your husband’s nephew would make a suitable heir, don’t you think?”
Cora glanced down at the sleeping babe. Son of her friend. Nephew of the man she loved. She supposed he would make for a worthy heir. Yet, as the first son of Mareleau and Larylis, he was already heir to Vera. Did that mean…
She shifted her gaze back to her friend, who seemed to already know what was on her mind.
“I promise, I’m not saying this because I want Noah to inherit your kingdom. I don’t share my father’s obsession with legacy. All I’m saying is that naming him your heir for now could secure Khero’s standing even more than your marriage to Teryn will.”
Cora huffed a laugh. “When did you become such a persuasive politician?”
“Probably when I was forced to become the queen of two kingdoms before I’d even gotten used to reigning over one.”
“Well, you make quite a convincing case.”
“Then I’ll add one more thing. Merging Menah and Selay into Vera has been beneficial for our kingdoms. Uniting our resources, pooling our assets…I’ve seen nothing but good come of this. Our kingdoms were small, so merging the two hasn’t stretched us thin or made it difficult to serve our people. So if you ended up…you know, keeping Noah as your heir, and Khero merged with Vera at the end of your reign…” Her expression turned hesitant again. “I’m just saying it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
Cora pondered her words. While a stubborn, prideful part of her rebelled at the thought of turning her crown over to someone else—someone not of her blood, her family—she recognized this as only a small part of her. The greater part saw wisdom in Mareleau’s words. If the curse Morkai placed on Cora never lifted, if she lived the rest of her life without ever bearing her own heirs, Mareleau’s suggestion could be the solution she’d been looking for all along. She’d never been overly fond of bloodline politics in the first place, and what she really cared about was the safety of her kingdom. She cared that her people thrived, both during and after her rule. Handing her crown to Noah, to Cora’s newly named godson, to a child who might very well come to feel like family soon…
“You’re right,” Cora said. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
“See? I knew it was a good idea.” Mareleau’s expression turned thoughtful. “Three kingdoms united. I wonder why they ever divided Lela in the first place.”
A shudder ripped through Cora. Was it relief over having a possible heir? In answer, that earlier feeling returned, sharpening in her gut.Pay attention.
To what?Cora wondered.
Then Mareleau’s words echoed in her mind, unraveling something…
Something about three kingdoms…
No, three crowns…
And Lela…
He will unite three crowns and return El’Ara’s heart.
Cora nearly choked on a sharp intake of breath as the words of Emylia’s prophecy invaded her consciousness. Teryn had conveyed everything he’d learned, and she’d done the same with what she’d discovered in El’Ara. Together, in the letters they’d exchanged, they’d merged their knowledge. Even though Cora’s place in the prophecy had been thwarted, they’d figured the information might prove useful in dealing with Darius. In understanding him, predicting his aims. Not that it had helped them yet.
So why was this piece of the broken prophecy striking her so fiercely right now? Was she merely being reminded of what might have been? What could have been, were she in Mareleau’s place? The promised Morkara in Cora’s arms, instead of Noah in Mareleau’s?
Or…
Could it be…
Blood of the witch, blood of the Elvyn, and blood of the crown.
Cora stared at Mareleau, assessing her under a chilling new light. After witnessing the glamour Mareleau had cast, she could believe Mareleau was a witch. But did she have Elvyn blood? Cora had never been able to answer that question for herself, ever since she’d learned of this part of the prophecy.
The Elvyn had died long ago. Now that Cora knew of El’Ara’s history, she understood that the only fae who had ever lived in Lela were those who’d been trapped outside the Veil. While the Faeryn descendants lived on as the Forest People, there were no records of any Elvyn bloodlines that remained. No way to know if Cora had Elvyn blood in her family tree. Her mother was from the Southern Islands, and the only Elvyn there was Darius. Cora didn’t want to consider any blood relation to him. Besides, wouldn’t Morkai have known if they were so closely related? Furthermore, it wasn’t justanyElvyn blood that qualified the prophesied mother. It was Ailan’s blood. While Darius and Ailan shared their mother’s blood, a descendant of Darius would not be the Blood of Ailan.
That left Cora’s father. His ancestry was local to the continent of Risa, so he could have been a descendant of Ailan.
But the same could be said for Mareleau.
When will she be born?
The year of the Great Bear.
