“…eight could be the…”
“…I think the journey drowned is referring to…”
“STOP!” Tristan’s command shook the room. “One at a time. Let’s go around the room, please. I’d like to hear from everyone. Layla?”
“The eight.” Layla rubbed her fingers over the hilts of her knives. “That could refer to the six continental territories plus the northern and southern colonies. Eight territories interweaving their play.” She glanced to Tristan.
Beside him, Ione nodded. “Yes, that was my interpretation of that line as well.”
“To long-lost power,” Felix said, eyes glowing. “That’s the restored elemental magics, surely?”
“If so, who’sfates are boundto it?” Seraavi asked. “All of us?”
Felix waved her off, then looked to Trophonios. “Are you sure they got the translation right?”
Trophonios cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything as he returned his penetrating gaze to Tristan. It was fucking unnerving. Like the male didn’t want to share his interpretation until he heard Tristan’s.
Seraavi cut in again. “A journey drowned.That must be Adelphinae’s own journey, her history. Drowned by the Empire, then found again by our members.”
“It could also be a reference to Tristan and Ione.” Layla’s gaze bobbed between them. “They lost each other and then found their way back.”
A soft smile parted Ione’s lips as she brushed her wing across Tristan’s feathers. It was all he could do to not leap away from her. “Yes. It could certainly be that.” She turned to face him. “What do you think?”
“I…” Tristan squared his shoulders as the group stared at him expectantly. “Yes, I suppose it could be.”
The corners of Ione’s mouth dipped ever so slightly.
In truth, he had no ideawhatto make of the full prophecy. The words were far more vague than he’d anticipated. He’d been hoping for something more concrete.
And no one had yet dared interpret the line that had his heart battering his ribs.
A crown exchanged, divine, will win the day.
Whose crown? And what day?
Finally, he turned to Trophonios. “What do you think?”
Trophonios folded his hands atop the book, thoughtful. “I think that regardless of what we all believe these lines mean, if we cannot agree on an interpretation, we will fail.”
Ione ruffled her feathers, her face pinched with distaste. It was clear to Tristan that she knew exactly what that prophecy meant. Both for the movement and for her and Tristan.
Tristan, meanwhile, was even less sure of his path than he’d been when he walked in here.
“Prince?” Ione said. “What do you think it means?”
The ringing in Tristan’s ears grew louder.
Should he admit to his confusion, his uncertainty? Or would doing so crumble everything the Teles Chrysos had built?
The only thing hewascertain of was that he needed more time to think. Away from the Fae around this table.
And certainly away from Ione, whose indigo eyes raked over him with such pleading intensity he could barely breathe.
“We should take some time to think on it,” he said. Ione’s wings drooped. “Let’s regroup in a few days.”
He abruptly pushed away from the table, and the group stood.
He didn’t dare look back to see the judgment on their faces as he fled the increasingly claustrophobic room.
