I hold back a chuckle.
Of course, I’m the last to get ready. I rinse my face and mouth with a bit of water from my waterskin. Osheen joins me, gently bumping his shoulder against mine. “What was that about?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I don’t know why I lie to him, but there was something about that dream. It was more than just the context that bothered me—it was the intrusion. So wrong in so many ways.
I don’t want this power. To be privy to people’s innermost desires.
My laughter from moments ago completely dies now. Though as I glance over at Kilkenny, sheathing his swords again, I’m reminded ofhislaughter, and a small smile returns to my face.
CHAPTER 52
Carys
The sun has barely risenwhen I awake from my dream, but like Ellynne said last night, it’s a new day with a new perspective. Once I’d cooled down, I’d summoned her and Lowri and asked Ellynne to read my fortune—as close to an apology as I could muster.
As I sit back against my headboard and stretch, I catch a bit of red on the edge of my vision and I startle. I’d forgotten that Ellynne had refused to leave me alone last night. She’s sprawled out on the bed beside me, her bright curls tumbling over my pillow, her mouth gaping open. I slip discretely out of bed and pad over to my wardrobe. I put on a sky blue dress that fastens at the front, strap ivory shoes onto my feet and practically tiptoe to my door.
My hand barely rests on the knob when Ellynne’s groggy voice comes from behind me. “Trying to sneak off?”
I wince and glance over my shoulder as Ellynne slowly sits up, her hair beyond unruly.
She lazily smooths her hands over her waves, a scowl on her face. “Oh, like you look much better when you first wake.”
I’ve never seen her quite so fresh from slumber—her cattiness makes me grin. Since Ellynne braided my hair before I slept, it’s been spared the same fate as hers. “I’m going to visit the queen,” I say.
Ellynne hops off the bed and strides toward me. “Not looking like that, you aren’t.” The stubborn pucker of her lips tells me there will be no arguing with her.
Twenty minutes later, my hair is rebraided and rolled into a crown as Sir Ren and I step into my mother’s bedchamber. My stomach lurches as Iywan turns toward me. Once again, Briony is there. She stands with a sweet smile and curtsies to me, as usual. She doesn’t say a word, however, and she’s out of the chamber before I can even move from where I stand.
The fairytale book is hugged to my chest—perhaps more truth than fable. I still can’t believe it. Iywan doesn’t look away from me, and I’m chilled by the detachment in his expression.
“The queen needs her rest,” he says to me at last.
A dozen brash responses flow through my mind, but I ignore him and make my way toward the queen. “Good morning, mother.” I channel my unease into the tome clutched in my hands, but I manage to keep my voice calm somehow. “Ready to continue our story?”
Iywan turns toward the window, and I settle on the bed beside my mother. She’s asleep, her hair nearly fully silver, her face haggard and ashen. My heart constricts in my chest, and I swallow thickly as I open the book to the last page I’d read her.
“Where were we?” I ask softly. It’s awkward reading to her with Iywan here, but I’m not going to let him intimidate me out of the one thing I have left with my mother. I will deal with him later. “So,Enidwen summoned the prince of the Underworld, and when he smiles, it’s bloody terrifying.”
By heart, Enidwen recited the enchantment that she had so often rehearsed to release the Underling Prince from his bonds and be granted her greatest desire. The sun grew black in the sky, the earth froze over, and a tempest-like gust of shadows rose from the depths, swirling around Enidwen relentlessly. Enidwen was ecstatic, eager to receive ultimate power. She envisioned destroying armies, claiming thrones, claiming nations, raising an empire. She saw the realm bowing down before her, she saw the people’s adoration of her. No more weak Enidwen. No more useless bride of an Otherworlder. She would be the Enchantress Empress.
No, the EnchantressGoddess.
Her laughter filled the air, but soon she realized that the power pouring into her was tainted. It wasn’t her own.
No, the Underling Prince now stood before her, that jagged-toothed grin too close to her face.
Enidwen’s laughter was choked off as the Underling Prince wrapped a bony hand around her throat. “My eternal thanks for releasing me,” he said. “Now you are mine.”
The Underling Prince squeezed Enidwen’s neck until her world faded to nothingness. When Enidwen awoke again, she assumed the Underling Prince was gone. But no… she could hear his taunting voice inside of her. He pushed his way into her memories, her desires, her very being. Enidwen clasped her hands over her head and screamed until she was hoarse, until she could no longer fight the intrusion, until there was nothing left of her own mind.
She’dfallen for the prince’s trap, wanting power for selfish reasons, for desiring it more than life itself. Her body was the perfect vessel for the Prince of the Underworld.
The now-possessed Evil Enchantress Queen rose up from her haunches and unleashed her terror upon the realm. Hope was lost until the Heirs of Dusk and Embers appeared. Within the solace of dusk?—
Wait a minute… I stop reading and stare at the page. That can’t be right. The Heirs of Dusk and Embers? Solace of dusk? My fingers crawl over the words. I’ve read this tale countless times before and it’s always saidthe Heirs of Agryna. The Heirs of Agryna rose up against the Enchantress Queen and defeated her while cloaked in the light of the chosen. It’s the same tale that both Durvla and I have always favored—the one where the Lightweavers saved the realm.
I flip through the pages. This is the same book I’ve always read, isn’t it? The heavy pages thud as I flip to the front, seeking the first page whereCarys Meredyth fa Rhodriand the wordtranslatedhad been written in beautiful calligraphy from the time my mother first gave the book to me.
