He put a finger under my chin to tip my face up. His eyes were slightly warmer, but his face was still edged by some icy severity that I had no name for.
"There is no sense in throwing your life away for your people, Sera. Penjan will take you. They will force you to wed this Prince—breed the Shadowlands into your line, and Windemere will be lost forever. If they do not burn the godsgrass, they will hoard it, starve the continent."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he stilled me with a look.
"I heard what happened in that throne room. You are the Golden Queen—prophecy made flesh. You are Windemere, and to get through this, you must survive."
"What do you mean prophecy made flesh?" I asked.
He spoke softly, by memory. The words that I had also heard a thousand times or more—from the mouths of the Presarion priests. "The sleeping angel bleeds red gold. Angels weep. Angels die. Angels rise. Aelia, Aelia, redemption." The words made the fine hairs all down my neck and back stand on end. "Death stalks across the plains as godslion's teeth rend flesh of the twice born king. Wings and drums beat. Aelia, Aelia, savior."
I started to shake my head. "That is not—"
But he continued. "She harbors the seed of salvation and ruin. Aelia, Aelia, hope." He paused, letting his last word fade off into the silence of the room.
The prophecy was near ancient, spoken by some long-dead Arkyllan oracle under Kazhar Dun, the great mountain wreathed in smoke and shadow. It was well known. They called it the Totampresario. Much of Windemere's religion seemed to spring up around it.
And it most certainly did not speak of me. My name had come from the prophecy itself. It was the reason so many of the Presarion-named children were called Aelia and had been for hundreds of years. The other name mentioned, Adrill, the destroyer, had not been used anywhere in Alterra for just as long.
I shook my head again. "That is not about me, Io. That has never been about me."
"It doesn't matter if it is or isn't. They all believe it. And I think it's what's fueling it all—the war, the proposals." He laughed harshly. "I think it might even be why my idiot brother has sought this marriage alliance."
"But why? What do any of them hope to gain? The prophecy promises nothing!" I insisted.
"Prophecy has never been about gaining riches or glory," he said matter-of-factly.
"So whatisit about then? What does the rest of it say? I can hardly remember."
He looked like he didn't want to answer, and as pieces of the prophecy started to come back to me, I understood why. In the end, he could see on my face that he did not need to say the last of it.
She hides behind the beast while gold burns beneath her feet. Aelia, Aelia, traitor!
The shadow opens his father's eyes on a breath of frozen fire that burns the world to ash. Adrill, Adrill, destroyer!
Black flame tears the sky in two. Aelia, Aelia, death!
The Golden Queen burns.
Blood opens the gate.
Cold, naked dread snaked up my spine, turning my mouth to ashes. I felt myself beginning to shake.
Could I really be believing any of this? Could I truly be considering the idea that this prophecy spoke of my fate and some cataclysm that would befall the world? And if so, how in the gods' names could I be expected to do one damn thing to change it?
Iclasped my trembling hands together in front of me, looking down at the cold, pale flesh of my fingers. They looked so frail and weak.
I felt his warm, nearly scalding flesh against mine as he took my hands in his.
"If you stay here, Sera, I will stay. My riders will stay. We will defend you to the last of us. But in the end, you will have gained nothing from it. You'll still be in their hands."
He released one of my hands and slid his palm along my cheek, beneath my hair, holding me so lightly that I could barely feel it. Chills skated over my cold skin.
His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "I cannot bear the thought of that. To give my life, and it still not be enough. You cannot ask that of me."
"I would never ask you to die for me, you foolish man," I said, my voice breaking on the words, betraying the emotion even as I tried to smile.
"You would not need to ask," he said. Gone was the coldness I had seen in him since he walked into the room. He was all fire.
