But the prison staff didn’t agree with me. And neither did Kole. They all concluded that it was the block that’d killed Verin, and not me, so they finally let us leave.
The second we were clear of the prison’s wards, Kole mistphased us back to the palace, back to the chambers my parents had placed me in.
My mother and father were there, anxiously awaiting us as afternoon sunshine streamed through the windows.
“Anything?” my mother asked.
“No,” Kole answered for me. “Even Prim’s magic couldn’t uncover who’s behind this. Verin’s dead.”
“Dead?” My father’s eyes widened, and thankfully, Kole told them everything, not making me relive that horrific moment.
But hearing the details only heightened my parents’ concern, because Verin’s death solidified how dangerous my situation was. Whoever was behind it wasn’t above killing others to prevent their capture.
I tuned out most of Kole’s explanation, but his final comment broke through the haze in my mind.
“The block placed in Verin’s mind was brittle. It was obviously designed to kill if confronted by a fairy who had the ability to break through it. There’s no way Primelle or any of us could have known that this would be the outcome. Primelle’s blaming herself, but it’s not her fault.”
“Prim?” My mother clasped my hands and took me to the couch. Worry coated her face.
“I’m okay,” I said automatically.
I was still processing, still reeling over what had happened, and even though I felt sick at what I’d done, I also knew that Verin had been out to destroy my family and me, and Kole’s firm belief that her death couldn’t have been foreseen helped alleviate some of the initial guilt I’d felt.
Still, I was responsible for her passing. I would have to carry that with me for the rest of my life.
My mother placed an arm around me, murmuring words of apology. I cast a glance at Kole. He had stationed himself nearthe door, and he was watching me with concern burning in his eyes.
“Primelle?” My mother’s soft question pulled my attention back to her. Tears formed in her eyes, and sorrow leaked into her aura. “It’s time, my darling. You did everything you could to get the information we needed, but it didn’t work.”
The finality of her words hit me like a brick wall, and all thoughts of Kole vanished. A ball of grief clogged my throat, and a soft mewl escaped me. “Are you saying that you’re going to order the Imperial Council to cast the Stone’s wish now, and it’s not going to be to save Timith?”
She and my father shared a devastated look.
“Yes,” my father finally said. “I’m sorry, Prim.”
My parents left,and I stayed at the window. Tears rolled down my cheeks in steady rivers as I waited for the inevitable. Waited for the sky to change. Waited for the realm to reveal that my wish was gone. Waited for Timith to die or suffer a fate worse than death.
Throughout my suffering, Kole stood silently, but twice, he tried to approach me. At my back, his presence was palpable, but each time he started to say something, I’d shaken my head.
Nothing could be said that would make any of this better, and instead of forcing words or showing frustration at my pain, he’d simply retreated to his position near the wall.
And for some reason, his steady silence provided a balm of comfort at a time when I didn’t think any comfort was possible, and that strangethingin my chest yearned for him again.
But too much was happening with my uncle for me to consider any of that.
So I waited for the inevitable.
Time ticked by. First by minutes, then hours. Late afternoon approached, but nothing happened.
The sky remained clear.
The birds continued to sing.
Nothing shook the ground to alert me to the Stone’s magic being released.
When evening was upon us, I finally turned away from the window to face Kole. He hadn’t moved from his guarding position, yet I’d felt him watching me.
Lifting my chin, I frowned heavily. “Why haven’t they cast their wish yet?”
