Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Margrethe.”
She dips her head in answer.
“How did Mordain learn that?” Wendeline said she couldn’t figure it out. Unless that was a lie.
“Only the scribes know of her. They value knowledge above all else, and there is a source within Cirilea who deals in information. She has been helpful for decades.”
Oh my God. It clicks. “Bexley.” Of course. How did I not put that together? Bexley knew Wendeline was receiving regular letters from Mordain.
“I immediately notified my scribe sisters of what Ianca had done for Neilina, knowing this was not something I could keep to myself. There was much discussion on what it might all mean. Involving the guild was pointless. They are not likely to speak out against the queen. Many among them vie for power and would be as happy to rid the world of the Islorians as Neilina. If anything, they would have put Ianca to death for it.
“We briefly discussed removing the problem of the princess,” Gesine admits, “but we feared that obstruction would cause cataclysmic repercussions. If Princess Romeria’s survival is the way to achieve peace, then her demise could eliminate the possibility of an end to the blood curse. We agreed to do what we do best—wait and watch and learn all we could, and when the time arrived, ensure prophecy comes to pass. With Ianca and I in Argon, we pieced together elements of Neilina’s plans. The scribes made contact with Cirilea’s casters.”
“Mordain’s official scribe seal. You used that to send letters to Margrethe.” And Wendeline, according to Bexley. “They could have told the king all of this, and Neilina’s entire plan would have folded.”
“It was a risk, yes, but Caster Wendeline was known to be a supporter of prophecy and a pragmatic ally. Regardless, we didn’t have much choice. The prophecy spoke of Romeria’s rising again with the aid of Malachi, so we could only assume she would be somehow struck down.”
“By a merth arrow to the chest.”
“In that case, Margrethe needed to be ready to summon. The royal family trusted Wendeline, and she was able to get close. The scribes tasked her to watch and collect what information she could, and when the time came, to ensure Margrethe completed her part in the prophecy. That was to be her role.”
I think back to what I know of that night. “And make sure the king and queen were poisoned before the wedding?”
“No. That was not part of the plan, but a direct interference with the prophecy. On the day of the attack, Wendeline made her own choice. She knew through us of the Ybarisan plan to dose the royal tributaries and of Princess Romeria’s toxic blood. With the newlywed couple taking the stone in the nymphaeum, it would mean certain death for the future king.
“Much like Ianca, Wendeline could not see how that would ever bring peace between the Ybarisans and the Islorians, especially if the Ybarisans killed them all. She saw a different path, one where she could reveal the Ybarisans’ deceit while protecting Zander and any involvement by Mordain. Beyond that, she would let the fates decide how it should unfold.” Gesine pauses. “I think now, knowing what we know, perhaps she may have been right. ‘When she rises again as a daughter of many and queen for all, only then could there be hope for peace.’” Gesine studies my features. “That was the part we could never understand, not until Wendeline’s letter arrived after the attack, when she confirmed the Romeria who Malachi returned to us was not the same who left us. A daughter of many, or four, to be more specific. But a queen for all. For the elven of Ybaris and Islor, for the casters of Mordain.” She brushes a strand of hair off Eden’s forehead. “And for the humans who seem to suffer most with this never-ending plague.”
My ears catch the sound of boots crunching against grass outside the tent a few seconds before the tent flaps open and Elisaf ducks in.
“Something to eat, from what was scrounged in Freywich.” He holds out half a loaf of bread, some butter, and not surprisingly, apples.
“I’m beginning to understand what Drakon was complaining about.” While Jarek never attempted to strike up a conversation with me, every time my stomach growled, he wordlessly fished into his pouch and thrust the fruit into my hand.
“Unless you would prefer some of the fowl roasting on the fire—”
“Apples are fine. Thanks.”
“I thought so.” Elisaf hesitates, but then, seeing that Eden is asleep, surveys her back. “She looks much better.”
Gesine covers the girl with a skin. “She will get a good night’s rest and be hungry in the morning.”
“As should you both. We will be breaking camp before dawn.” Elisaf ducks back out with a bow, fixing the flaps behind him.
Gesine’s gaze lingers on the now-empty space. “He is fiercely loyal to you.”