Page 188 of Between Despair and Hope

“Shortly after I was born, I’m told. One of my brothers startled me during a nap, and Magdalena could barely find me within the nursery.”

“Do you remember them?” he asked, voice rough. It wasn’t a secret that Declan killed nearly every person who could come for his crown.

“I remember Emmett. Sophia too. But none of the rest.”

He grimaced. “You would have been quite small when they died.”

I nodded before clearing my throat. “You and the queen need help mastering the shadows?”

“Yes. There’s something else though.” He pulled a parcel out of his jacket, handing it over. Small, the brown packaging around it crinkled in the quiet.

“What is this?” I asked, as he handed it over.

“I have one scholar who is working on this, but I don’t want it widely known, not yet anyway. I know you were tutored in the Old Language, and—”

“How do you know that?”

“Spies, Cyran.” He sighed heavily, and I felt rather brainless. “Besides, it is to be expected, as you are royalty. It’s been twenty gods damn years since I was taught. I can only assume you remember far more than I do.”

“Do you need it to be translated?” Curious, I unfolded a corner of the paper wrapping, and he stopped me with a shake of his head.

“Not here. And no, I don’t need it translated in its entirety. There are a few pages at the beginning in the Old Language, handwritten. I’ll do anything to have some sort of leg-up on your brother. I want you to just focus on the note. I have someone looking into more details about what the prophecy entails. He has far more resources than anyone I know. He’s willing to work with you as well.”

“Alright. I-I wasn’t very good at the Old Language, but it was only a year or so ago. I’ll certainly try.” I dipped my head, not willing to make eye contact as I asked, “You trust me with this?”

“No.” The blunt retort nearly pulled a laugh from my lungs. “But I don’t trust anyone, and it just felt right to ask it of you. It might be a mistake, but if we are to rule together, there must be some sort of trust between us. For what you did to my child, I shouldn’t trust you.”

Shame. Complete and utter shame.

“And yet?”

He assessed me, arms crossed and brow furrowed. “I’m learning to trust my instincts. And for some gods forsaken reason, I feel compelled to put faith in the child who killed my daughter. It makes little sense, but here I am.”

Not knowing what to say, I bowed my head and pocketed the book. “I’ll have it to you as quick as I can. You can trust me. I’ll swear a verit oath if you—”

“No time. Are you ready to begin?”

“Now?” I sputtered.

He nodded and opened a rift into the bookstore I’d frequented far too many times in hopes of seeingher.

“She wouldn’t even look at me, Iz,” I whined. After discovering my intuition was correct and Ismene was in Darkhold, she could tell something was wrong and refused to talk about anything else until I told her what it was.

“Well, you can’t exactly blame her, can you? I’m honestly surprised she didn’t stab you the minute she woke.”

“I’m not so sure she wouldn’t have if given the opportunity.” I shook my head and blew out a breath. “Though I’m quite certain you enjoy calling me thickheaded, we have other things to discuss.”

“Yes, and they’re quite a bit less amusing, so humor me a while longer.” Hazel eyes darker than mine stared just past my shoulder, and she absentmindedly braided her long black hair. She looked well, significantly better than she had the first time I’d visited her in an illusion. Even so, since she was in Darkhold, it couldn’t be pleasant for her. I wanted to see her smile, so I gave in.

“The man at the bookstore, Reminy is his name, is quite timid, and he was forced to intervene with a rather nasty patron giving one of his clerks a tongue-lashing. We had been working on the, well—”

“The incredibly secret thing you cannot tell me about, yes, go on.”

“And, well, the poor man. Iz, you know I had to say something!”

“Always getting yourself into trouble, big brother.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know I hate when you call me that.”

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