She scattered them across the table, leaning forward to study their arrangement. The rest of us watched, some with genuine interest, others with polite skepticism.
“The cosmic patterns are deeply disturbing this evening,” Lady Edwina said in a sing-song voice.
Lord Turren set down the spoon. “Do the stones say anything about complexion remedies? All this stress is terrible for my skin.”
Lady Edwina didn’t even glance his way, her attention fixed on the stones. “I see a shadow growing beneath beauty’s roots.”
Sasha tightened her fingers around mine.
“The one who tends may poison the garden,” Lady Edwina added, her voice taking on an eerie tone. “Ancient hungers wake when emotions run too pure.”
My pulse picked up. These weren’t the vague predictions Lady Edwina usually made. These felt specific.
“Two hearts beating as one shall either save the bloom or seal its doom,” she said.
Silence fell across the table. Even Lord Turren had stopped fussing with his appearance.
Lady Kenneth leaned forward, concern on her face. “Edwina, can you be more specific? Shadow beneath roots could mean anything from root rot to underground tunnels.”
“The stones speak in metaphor,” Lady Edwina said withquiet dignity. “Interpretation often requires time and patience.”
I exchanged a glance with Sasha. We were both taking these predictions more seriously than the others. What if the plant dampening wasn’t recent sabotage but something old being awakened?
The conversation moved on to other topics. Court gossip, festival preparations, and Lord Turren’s elaborate theories about this year’s festival fashion trends. Normal chatter.
My mind raced.
Savory flew from the windowsill to perch near Lady Edwina, tilting her head as if studying the stones herself.
Lady Edwina noticed and smiled. “I wonder if your companion has an eye for cosmic truth, Your Majesty.”
“She has opinions about many things,” Sasha said.
The meal continued. I contributed to conversations about nothing, played my role as the charming king, doing what I could to make the court feel at ease.
But underneath, questions churned.
Ancient hungers.
Emotions running too pure.
Two hearts either saving or sealing doom.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SASHA
Frustration about our lack of progress had been building for days, settling into my bones like a persistent ache. I touched my locket as we walked the main garden path, my mind churning through every failed theory and every dead end we’d hit.
Dominic walked beside me, his shoulders tight with his own tension. He ran his hand through his hair for the third time, making it stand up in ways that shouldn’t be endearing but absolutely were.
“I keep thinking we’re missing something obvious,” he said, echoing the thought that had been haunting me.
I catalogued our failures out loud, needing to hear them spoken to understand where we’d gone wrong. “The head gardener gave us nothing useful. Every staff member we questioned came up clean. The magical signature testing was completely inconclusive.”
“And we’re running out of time.” Dominic gestured to a cluster of emotion-responsive flowers that had been vibrant days ago but now drooped sadly. “The festival is in three days.”
Not enough time.
