Page 43 of Winds of Darkness
A prince will fall.
The realm hangs in the balance.
A beginning or an ending? Time will tell.
The answers lie across the sea.
Ashtine stared up at the ceiling of her dark rooms, nestled under blankets and furs. The sun would rise soon, and she hadn’t slept. Her fingers dug into the soft coverings, and she shifted, curling onto her side.
Power will be resurrected.
Darkness and fire of the stars will draw out the prince who hides in plain sight.
She may be too late.
Her windows were closed. The doors to her balcony were locked tight, but the winds still found her. They still kept her awake. They were still incessant.
Prince Briar had visited twice more in the last two weeks. Her Court was uneasy every time he was here, and she did not entirely blame them. Each of them had tracked her down individually and tried to ease into a conversation about what they were doing, but her answers never placated them. They had insisted on dinner as a court tonight, again expressing concern she wasn’t eating, and Briar’s increased visits had been brought up once more. Ermirhad started the conversation, backed up by Renly and Sion, but she’d had trouble focusing on what they were saying. It had been a warmer day and all the windows had been opened.
The winds had been loud, and it now carried over into the night.
The realm will fall to one.
Blood will stain the lands.
Those across the sea know.
Go there!
She flung the blankets off, sliding from the bed and going to her dressing room. Shucking off her nightclothes, she slipped on a lightweight cream dress, leaving her hair unbound. She didn’t bother with shoes. They wouldn’t be necessary where she was going.
Five days.
It had been five days since Briar’s last visit. The winds were … different on the days he was in the Citadel libraries with her. Perhaps it was simply because she was in the catacombs, but this wasn’t the same. She could feel the winds stir, but they were quieter. The incessant whispers were occasional murmurs that she found easy to ignore if she wished.
And it was because of that she found herself stepping into the winds and then onto the shores of a beach.
Winds and waves. The balance tips.
Stop, she retorted, but there was no bite in her mental reply. She was too exhausted to feel the annoyance.
Blood will be shed.
A prince will fall.
Answers lie across the sea, locked away and hidden.
Gritting her teeth, Ashtine moved down the beach until the waves rolled over the tops of her feet and her toes sank into the wet sand. She’d hoped it would ground her for some inexplicable reason. It did nothing of the sort.
Blood will spill.
Enough!she snapped.
Find the one to cross the sea.
“Be still!” she cried into the night, her voice breaking as another round of waves rolled to shore.
He comes.
