Aura and Avina both inhale deeply. Their combined response creates a hissing noise in the tower.
The Seer motions Aura forward and whispers yet another damning bit of information in her ear that, luckily, no one else can hear. Everything she envisioned for her future shatters with her quiet words that the Princess dares not share with a soul.
Once the Seer leans away, Aura’s gaze flicks to Isabel, seeing her in a strange new light.
“As a dying woman, I ask two requests of you.” Isabel leans forward, balancing her elbows on her thighs. “Undo theseidrfrost that bites away at my unborn son.”
Seidrfrost? Calder…
“Allow me to give birth to him, for I know that is the sole meaning the Norn intend for my life in this world.”
“And?”
Isabel licks her lips. “Ensure my son is raised far away from Timber. Lavinia has already written to the Manchineels. They will want to use him for their vengeance against your clan. Please, Aura, help me challenge the Norn. Let him grow up to be happy andhealthy. Away from all of this and these damned prophecies. Away from us.”
The Seer shakes her head with indignation. “You cannot defy the Norn. Your son’s fate is spelled in the runes around you, Isabel Kilton Manchineel. Your father felt their vengeance when he turned away from the Redwood prophecy.”
“He was already damned to his fate because the Norn sought the Guardian line to merge with the Redwoods!” Isabel spits.
“There is always a choice, daughter of Rendel. Had any Treland king varied in their paths, the country would look far different from what it does today.” The Seer warns.
Aura reflects on her parents’ journey as she stares at Isabel. She would never forgive herself for denying this selfless request.
What could this harm?
Even with the Seer’s words continuing to bind the Manchineels to the Sigvidsson-Redwood clan, she must allow these future choices to be made.
Against her better judgment, she strides toward Isabel and offers her hand. With tears brimming in her dark eyes, Isabel places her wrist in Aura’s palm. Without overthinking her actions, she reverses theseidr, watching a tiny black snowflake float out of her skin, leaving a healthier flush to Isabel’s cheeks.
“And my son? Will you keep him safe from my family?”
Both women know the truth.
Isabel will not survive long after her son’s birth, and Calder will ensure her swift death.
“Should the Manchineels steal him from us, then let your son have my firstborn.” The strange words tumble out of Aura’s mouth as if they are not her own.
Her finalseidras a witch manifests.
“Aura, no!” She hears her mother chastise her from above.
No righteousness emanates from Isabel, nor is there a smugness in getting her way. Instead, relief floods her features as she nods. “Thank you.”
Isabel helps the Seer to her feet as they move toward the door.
“You could at least free us.” Aura confronts Isabel, who shakes her head with a grin.
“Even Lavinia forgets that there is more to the prophecy of freeing Skalor.To make equalupon a field of sunless roses, a willing sacrifice must be taken.”
The door clangs shut as it locks.
Aura spends the rest of the day chatting with Avina, who remains in disbelief that she has aided Isabel in any way.
Yet, Aura cannot shake the words whispered by the Seer–those concerning her and her children’s future, no matter how distant those days may be.
Several footsteps echo in the stairwell, but this time, they pass by Aura in favor of the stairs and Avina.
“Good evening, little Queen. Please forgive my lateness. I was waiting for a courier to bring me news.” Lavinia’s cheerful voice echoes through the tower, yet Aura remains on the shaky chair to catch every word.
