Something tells me he already knows about the prophecy. If that is the case, why would he desire for me to repeat what he already knows?

Unless he doesn’t know… in which case, could finding out cause him to drift even further into madness?

After a moment, the ring on Tiernan’s left hand illuminates, and I feel the tug on my chest where the branded “L” lies.

“Now, now, High General,”he soothes.

No longer his son, now that I refuse to answer.

He’s already back to using the only title that matters to him.

“What have you learned?” he whispers.

My mind fights against the command. I want to keep my mouth shut, but the longer I fight against it, the greater the desire is to spill my secrets. My mind is drawn to the one Maeva entrusted to me…

No!

I’ll keep my word to her… as long he doesn’t ask about it directly.

“I’m waiting, High General,” he coos, his voice silkier than usual.

“Thebasilisktoldheraboutaprophecy,” I yell as the words pour out of me in one breath.

The king breathes deeply, rubbing a hand down his face. “Tell me the prophecy,” he demands.

“It’s the one about the two kings,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Don’t be coy, General… tell me the entire prophecy,” he says.

“Two kings destined for the same throne, but only the one bound to the kindred heart’s sins will be atoned. Beware the one of the severed soul, for his reign ends in blight. The Na Fíréin can only rise when the hidden truth is brought forth to the light. The truth shall only be revealed once the path to salvation or ruin is sealed,” I recite, unsure of how I managed to remember it all.

A glimmer washes over Tiernan’s features that I’ve never seen before. However, it’s gone as quickly as it surfaced. Clenching his jaw, he offers a wicked smile.

“Wonderful,” he coos. “Our prize is indeed worthy of such knowledge. How marvelous… and what of her starlight ability? Does she wield it well?”

“I only saw her offer a piece of it to the basilisk, but she didn’t fully wield it. The small portion I did witness felt powerful, my king, but she’s still weak,” I reply.

Instantly, the pain in my chest lessens, and I struggle to catch my breath.

He turns to Domhnall. “Make all the preparations to move up the Masquerade of Shadows to the day after next. This is a cause for celebration, as the one to awaken the Na Fíréin has arrived at last,” he says cheerfully.

“Yessssssss, sssiree,” Domhnall replies.

Then, like a vapor, he vanishes from the study.

Tiernan returns his dark gaze to me. “Go,” he commands. “Rest for now. I expect you to bring her to the throne room by midday tomorrow. Orla will be in attendance as well.”

Orla.

The duchess took my mother’s place as Tiernan’s consort three years after her death. Her heritage is both Galrosan and Briezien. She’s as beautiful as she is vicious and certifiably insane—a perfect match to Tiernan’s paranoia. She’s been locked in confinement for the last eight months after her last tantrum, during which she decapitated four of her maids, all for bringing her the wrong dress shade. She must’ve whispered sweet nothings to the king again in order to be back in his good graces.

Either way, the thought of Maeva being alone in a room with either of them causes my skin to crawl.

“Of course, my king,” I say, bowing low.

Without another word, I leave the study and head straight for my quarters on the other side of the palace. I consider checking in on Maeva, but decide against it, as it would only draw Tiernan’s attention. Perhaps I can go once it’s the evening hours, I’m sure she’s resting at the moment anyway.

After slipping into my chambers,I’m relieved when I remove my armor and wash all the grime of the last few days away. I can barely keep my eyes open by the time I jump into my bed. The toll of the journey settles heavily into my bones. As I drift off to sleep, I think of Maeva: the sound of her laughter, the way her hair flows in the wind, the feel of her hand in mine, and how, for a brief moment, shesmiled at me.