I leaned in, my interest piqued by his cryptic hints. “What about me? Where doIfit into this tapestry you're weaving? I'm not fae, yet here I am, mired in all of this.”
Klaus studied me for a moment with an unreadable expression. Then, with a sigh, he leaned closer and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You, my dear, are an enigma. You disrupt patterns and create chaos where there was order—which is exactly what a stagnant realm needs to shake it out of complacency. Whether you realize it or not, you're a catalyst, and that makes you invaluable to the side who recognizes it first.”
I bit my lip and narrowed my gaze. “I’m not from here, Klaus. You know this. And I don’t plan on staying any longer than Ihave to. Whatever problems Elaria has, I don’t want to get more involved than I already am. I just want to go home.”
Klaus placed an elbow on the table and leaned his head on it, tilting to look at me innocently. “Is that what you think, Kitty Cat? That you can leave here as you please?”
“Klaus…” I warned.
He laughed. “Don’t fret, Kitty Cat, I’m not insinuating that I’ll keep you here captive like a certain someone we know.” He gave me a meaningful look, although how he knew about my arrangement with Damien was beyond me. “In any event, I know leaving Elaria is not easy.”
I needed a thunderstorm. Until one came, I was stuck in Dragon Valley. It was a two-hour carriage ride down the mountain to reach River Elara. If the thunderstorm was a short burst, my opportunity would be lost before I reached the shoreline.
As Klaus leaned back, the playfulness in his eyes was replaced by serious contemplation. “You see, Cat, your connection to this world isn't simply about where you arephysically. It's deeper, tied to your fate and actions while you're here. Your presence has already set certain events in motion—events that won't merely unwind when you decide to leave.”
Frustrated, I crossed my arms and fought to control my growing curiosity. “So what are you saying? That I’m stuck playing in these games indefinitely?”
“Not games,” Klaus gently corrected. “Realities. And not indefinitely, but your role might be longer than you hoped. Think of it, Cat. You have a chance to change things here, to influence a world. How many people get that opportunity?”
I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I just want to go home, Klaus. I don’t want to change worlds or influence anything!”
His expression softened. “I understand that, truly. But sometimes, we don't get to choose our battles. They choose us.And this one,” he gestured subtly, “has chosen you because of who you are, and maybe, just maybe, because it needs what onlyyoucan offer.”
“And what’s that?” I asked, skeptical yet intrigued.
“Chaos, unpredictability, and a fresh perspective,” he listed. “You challenge the norms here just by existing. You question things and defy expectations. That’s more powerful than any magic I wield.”
I mulled over his words, feeling the weight of responsibilities I never asked for settling on my shoulders. “What if I refuse?”
Klaus's look was somber. “Then, Kitty Cat, you might find yourself a pawn in someone else’s game, without any say in your fate. At least as a player, you have moves to make.”
His words struck a chord and ignited a reluctant fire within me. Perhaps there was a part of me, however small, that knew he was right. This world, for better or worse, had entangled me in its fate. Perhaps I could twist that to my advantage.
“This is all because I’m his twin flame, isn’t it?” I murmured. I wasn’t sure if Klaus knew, but I might as well reveal myself. Unfortunately, Maeve was hearing it for the first time, and she gasped beside me, scandalized.
Klaus’s eyes widened and he nodded. “I wasn’t certain until now, but yes, Kitty Cat, it’s because you’re his twin flame.”
I sighed and threw my head back. “This goddamn tattoo is going to be the death of me.”
Klaus chuckled, his mood lightening. “Not death, hopefully. Power, perhaps. Influence, certainly. Being half of a twin flame isn't just a mark. It's a beacon that draws all sorts of attention—both goodandbad.”
I groaned. “Great, just what I always wanted. To be a supernatural beacon in a world I don't even belong in.” My sarcasm dripped like acid, which Klaus seemed to find amusing.
“Think of it this way,” he suggested, leaning in with a conspiratorial gleam in his eye. “You're not a random player in this game; you're a queen on the chessboard. The most powerful piece.”
“You’re assuming I know how to play chess,” I retorted, trying to lighten the weight of his revelation with humor.
Klaus offered a warm smile. “Then consider this your crash course. Each move you make can change the game. And I, for one, am quite invested in ensuring you know how to effectively make those moves.”
I sighed, resigned to the reality of my situation. “So, what's the first move in this grand game of chess?”
“First,” Klaus said, growing serious again, “we ensure your safety and solidify your position. We need to make sure you're not merely viewed as a pawn or a prize to be claimed by the crown prince or anyone else the emperor might throw at you.”
“How do we do that?” I asked, genuinely curious about his plan.
“By weaving a narrative controlled byyou. We start by spreading your own legends. We make you a symbol, not just of power, but of resistance against the emperor's tyranny.”
“You mean songs,” I clarified.
