Page 42 of Unseen Eye
With the power to rule or the power to divide.
In twilight’s grasp, her fate is bound,
To save the realm or see it unwound.
A journey fraught with twists and turns,
Where flames of truth and darkness burn.
Though trials dark and secrets veiled,
Her destiny waits, yet to be unveiled.
Yet in the end, the choice is hers,
To dance with light or embrace the curse.
For in the twilight’s whispered breath,
Lies the answer to life and death.
Before I can fully grasp the meaning of her words, the womanvanishes as swiftly as she appeared.
Gods, I hope those scribes were scribing.
The field, once filled with tension and anticipation, is now hushed in the wake of her departure. The crowd stirs, murmuring in disbelief, their gazes darting around as if searching for answers in the empty space she occupied moments ago.
I turn to Callon, my mind racing with questions, but he too wears an expression of bewilderment, his usual composure momentarily shaken. We exchange a look, both of us grappling with what the fuck we just witnessed.
Chapter Fourteen
The scene shifts from dead silence to utter chaos in the blink of an eye. Arguments explode among the nobles, their voices rising in a cacophony of disbelief, fear, and confusion. It’s as if someone flipped a switch—everything unraveling in an instant.
Garet and Leigh are pale, their usual confidence drained away by the mysterious woman’s sudden appearance. Even Baron is rattled, standing rigid as he barks orders at Drystan, whose face remains an unreadable mask.
I stand there, my legs barely holding me up, still reeling from the woman’s presence. The tension radiating from Callon is palpable; his grip on his sword is tight, his body as tense as a drawn bow. His eyes flicker to Izzy, who approaches him cautiously, concern etched deeply in her features.
Their conversation is low, almost drowned out by the escalating bickering around us. I catch only fragments of their words: “prophecy,” “significance.” At one point, Izzy mutters something like, “—at least we know who the ‘she’ is.”
I watch them for a moment, my mind spinning with questions, all of them tangled around the woman’s sudden disappearance. Garet strides toward me, his face a portrait of worry—so different from the cocky bravado he wore just an hour ago.
“Eva,” he says gently, his voice soft but insistent, “it was just some crazy ramblings. They don’t mean anything. You don’t have to listen to any of it. It’s got to be some kind of trick.”
I meet his eyes, searching for comfort in his words, but all I feel is fear clawing at my insides. “But what if they do mean something, Garet? What if—”
Before I can finish, Callon steps in, his face hard with frustration. “Quit coddling her for once!” he snaps, his voicecutting through the clamor. “She’s a grown woman. She can make her own damn decisions.”
Garet freezes, a flash of fury crossing his face as his protective instincts flare. “She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need this right now.”
“And you think coddling her is helping?” Callon’s words are sharp, biting. “Look at her—she hasn’t slept. She’s barely holding it together. Great job ‘protecting’ her from the truth. Now you’re playing the big damn hero? One hour ago, you were ready to fight her. Why? Because your father told you to?”
Garet’s face goes pale, but his fists clench tighter. “We don’t even know if that was a Fate. No one’s ever seen one before.”
Callon scoffs, eyes narrowing with disdain. “Are you sure you have any common sense? Because I’ve yet to see any.”
Garet’s voice cracks with anger. “Are you always this heartless? I’m guessing you are—considering you have no problem living with yourself after murdering Eamon.”
The words land like a slap to the face.
