Chapter 23

T he sun seems to shine brighter as I wind through the hallways, returning to my room. I'm starting to learn the layout, so long as I stay on known paths. Olly and I agreed to continue training every other day, despite the desperate pleas of my throbbing muscles. The guarantee of seeing him sweaty and shirtless on a regular cadence ignites a thrill in my bones that circulates from head to toe.

The moment I open the door, a frantic Gemma rushes toward me. "There you are! I was worried sick when you weren't in bed this morning!" Gemma sighs with seemingly equal parts exasperation and relief.

"I'm sorry! I should have told you that I was with Olly." She must know where I am and to ensure my safety, I suppose.

Her look turns cheeky and suggestive, not too dissimilar from the face that Tana would make when suggesting something untoward happening with Lord Myles. Only, this look doesn't provoke quite the same revolting effect.

In fact, I can't help but wonder what it would be like to wake up in his bed.

"Not like that!" I say adamantly. "We're training together."

Her eyebrows remain lifted as she murmurs, "Uh huh, sure."

I don't need to explain myself. But at the same time, I don't want her to get the wrong idea and start rumors. The last thing I need is for Olly to hear that I've been talking about him, especially when the rumor is more salacious than reality. "Seriously, we agreed to meet every other morning to train. I want to be prepared in case the day comes when I need to defend myself. That's all."

"Whatever you say," she replies in a way that suggests very little confidence.

"Where is Viola?" I ask to change the subject. Though, this might be the first time I've seen the two of them apart.

"She's not feeling well, but she should be back on her feet tomorrow." Gemma flashes an assuring smile, quickly returning to her regular perky demeanor. "Would you like a bath?"

"Oh, yes," I say, and a flash of embarrassment pulses through me as I realize how badly I smell. The workout left a sheen of dried sweat over my skin and a lingering smell to match.

Gemma saunters toward the bathroom.

And suddenly, like a whisper in the wind, the prophecy rattles through my mind. Having almost forgotten about it after such an eventful morning, the words now bring a familiar and distinctive sense of unease. The last time I broached the subject with the twins, Viola was hesitant to offer too much information. Gemma, on the other hand, seemed much more inclined to help.

"Are you excited for the ball this weekend?" Gemma shouts over the sound of running water, snapping my attention back to the present.

"A ball? Like a dance?" Nobody mentioned a ball to me. If they had, I would have declined the invitation immediately. The list of things I'd rather do than attend a ball – and dance in public – would stretch from coast to coast.

"Yes, a dance! His Royal Highness is hosting a masked ball in your honor this Saturday evening. All of Somne is invited! There will be all sorts of decadent food and dancing and bubbly!" Her voice is brimming with excitement as if she's looking forward to it. And though she is out of sight, I can hear her footsteps shuffling around, dancing and twirling to the beat of a silent melody.

A bundle of tightly wound nerves unspools within my core, bringing a wave of nausea with it. If the ball is to be held in my honor, then all eyes will be on me. I haven't danced in years! Even then, I was secluded in the confines of my home with no fear of being overseen. And if I refuse to dance, sticking to the sidelines for the duration, then I would have to talk to strangers, surely.

Either way, I will be a disappointment to all in attendance, and they will see right through me. This whole sham – the ludicrous idea that I could be queen – might finally come to an end.

"Will you be there?" If I must embarrass myself publicly, then having at least one friendly face in the crowd might be a saving grace.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." A light hum now accompanies her rhythmic steps.

"Good, I'm glad." I am. I don't think I could do this without her.

Gemma waltzes back into the main room, light on her feet, and says, "The tub is ready!"

"Thank you." I swallow the lump in my throat and decide to change the conversation altogether. Carefully veiling the true meaning, I say, "I found the book that you recommended."

Her ears perk up and her eyes grow wary, but she betrays nothing with her words, saying only, "That's nice."

She doesn't offer any more, but I need to talk to someone about this. She's the only one I trust, and perhaps my only hope for finding answers. And so, I nudge her again, "There was a page missing."

‘Stop!" She squeals, and her wings flutter so frantically that she shoots into the air. It takes her a moment to recover and float back down to the floor. "I can't help you with this."

"Please, Gemma." I plead, plunging closer to her. "There has to be some way around the blood oath. A way for you to lead me to the answers without breaking it."

She bites her lip, weighing the options.

Come on, Gemma. Give me something to work with here.

"Besides the fact that it's dangerous and none of my business, I don't know enough to be helpful. I heard rumors before your arrival, but that's the extent of my knowledge. I promise, Radya." Her brows knit together, considering. Then, in a whisper so soft that it's nearly inaudible, she whispers, "But I might know someone in town who could help. Maybe. I'm not so sure."

"Who?" A flicker of hope licks the back of my neck, causing every hair to stand on point.

A moment passes as she breathes heavily, and I fear that she's lost her resolve to help. Finally, she whispers, "Her name is Guylita Duvall. I've only heard of her, but they say that she's a modern diviner and an expert on written prophecies. She might be able to… explain things."

"How do I find her?"

My mind begins buzzing with a litany of questions for her.

"She lives near town. I can give you directions to her cottage, but I can't take you there." She inhales a deep breath, pinching her features together. "Radya, this is a dangerous game you're playing. The crown will go to great lengths to keep this buried. If they find out that I'm helping you…" Her quivering voice breaks like she's choking on fear. "Even if it doesn't break the blood oath due to a technicality, my involvement is still dangerous."

The truth begins to unfurl in my mind like a stray string pulled from a blanket.

"I need to know the truth, Gem. How else am I supposed to move forward with the arrangement? Clearly, there is something hidden in this prophecy that would alter my decision. And, if I'm right, it could impact the future of this kingdom. This is bigger than me. It affects you. It affects Viola. It affects all of the families that call Mendacia home. I need to learn the truth, or else I risk making a grave mistake." I search her eyes for any hint of denial, but there is none. "And I think you agree, or else you would have denied it from the beginning. But you first led me to Davina. And now you're leading me toward Guylita."

Gods know that I'm struggling to make sense of the prophecy and my supposed gifts, but this would impact the future of this kingdom. If that means marrying Olly, then so be it. But what if the prophecy is pointing me elsewhere, and the fulfillment of the prophecy, and the peace of this kingdom, rely on me refusing the arrangement?

The weight of this decision is heavier than I ever imagined. It's about more than simply sacrificing adventure and free will. And if I choose incorrectly, the many thousands who call this continent home could suffer. Why else would the crown go to such lengths to hide it?

The tension thickens with each passing second. Her gaze remains fixed on the floor until finally, she says, "What if I intermediate indirectly ? I could convince Guylita to attend the ball, allowing room for you two to speak, since she is not tied by a blood oath. And it's a masquerade, so she could enter undetected. Then it would be up to you to find the privacy to speak freely while leaving my hands clean."

"You are brilliant. Absolutely genius!" I whisper my exclamations, but internally, I am buzzing.

Her wings still. "Tomorrow, I will tell Viola that I caught her sickness. Once she leaves for the day, I will slip away to town and meet with Guylita."

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" I squeeze her into a tight hug.

"We have to be extremely careful," she warns as the fear in her eyes burns brighter than the pyres of the dead.

"Of course," I nod.

"No, seriously, Radya. You can't tell anyone. Not even Viola. She reprimanded me after just mentioning Davina to you. She would murder me if she knew that I was arranging this meeting. Also, keep in mind that Guylita could refuse. This plan is weak at best." She exhales a heap of doubt and fear.

It must be difficult for her to keep a secret from her twin, especially if my suspicions are correct that they can speak from mind to mind. But without her, I don't stand a chance. I need her. And this plan may be weak, but it's my best chance. My only chance. "Thank you, Gemma. Seriously. I know what this means for you, and I want you to know how much I appreciate it. Whatever you need in the future, just name it. I owe you."