With the cusp of shifting night,
Seek the path where the dark meets light.
Ancient doors with puzzles guard,
Within Evergorne’s walls, echoes marred.
With trust and flame, the way reveal,
Through hidden truths, the hearts you'll steal.
Unite the strengths of earth and air,
To reveal the prize that's hidden there.
As I read,the writing disappeared. Good thing I had a solid memory.
After pawing through the pages but finding nothing but blankness, I flopped on the bed again and scowled at the fabric overhead.
“What does that mean?” I repeated the poem in my mind a few times, locking it inside my brain.
“Moira?” I finally called out.
She bustled into the room. “Ah, my queen. You’re awake! I bet you had a lovely nap.”
“Yes, something like that.”
“Would you like to dress in your afternoon gown or in something finer you can wear to dinner?”
“Merrick can’t join me.”
“I meant if you choose to dine with the queen mother and her ladies.”
Without Merrick beside me? Not a chance. Not until I was forced into it.
“Earlier, I mentioned that I’d like to visit the library,” I said.
Her hand stilled on the draperies she was smoothing back from one of the windows. “The library, you say?”
“Yes. I’d like to see what books it has to offer.”
“There are many. Some as old as the castle.” Her voice lowered, and a frown filled her face. “Others from even before that.”
“Ones that discuss Evergorne history?” I hadn’t missed the poem mentioning this court. Something was guiding me, teasing me with knots I couldn’t yet unravel. The fates? “Someone told me all the prior Evergorne kings died on their thirtieth birthday.”
Her fingers frozen on the drapes, Moira stared forward at nothing.
Farris sat up on the bed, his intent gaze on me.
“Were they murdered?” I asked Moira, stroking his spine while he wiggled with pleasure.
Her breath caught. “Murder?” Spinning, she strode over to stand nearby. “You must’ve had a nightmare, my queen. You poor thing. I’ll ask the castle healer for a sleeping draught you can take tonight to prevent such a horrifying thing from happening again.”
“I don’t want anything like that. I asked if all the prior Evergorne kings were murdered on their thirtieth birthdays. If itwasn’t an accident, they must’ve been stabbed or poisoned or . . .”
There were too many ways to kill a king. The realization gouged through me. Merrick would soon turn thirty.
Moira blinked a few times, her gaze unfocused, before her eyes lifted to meet mine. “You didn’t say. Would you like to change into an afternoon gown or one finer and more suitable for dinner, my queen?”
