Page 68 of Embers of Ruin

“Those are different things.”

“They are.”

I look back at the faded symbols, unable to shake the strange pull I feel toward them.

“...Has anyone ever found the Cursebreaker?”

Brother Gustav rolls the scroll closed with careful hands.

“No.”

The answer is simple. Certain.

“And until someone does,” he says quietly, “it remains only a prophecy.”

No one speaks after that.

Riven thanks the two scholars, and Cadrin gestures toward the door before I can ask another question. Apparently my allotted educational detour has come to an end.

The walk back through the palace is strangely quiet. For once, Cadrin has nothing to say which is great, because I don’t particularly enjoy the sound of his voice. The prophecy follows me through every corridor. A Cursebreaker. Someone who could heal the cursed land and end centuries of darkness. It sounds impossible.

Then again… so does healing a garden that has been dead for centuries.

We stop outside my chamber and I turn to face the two guards. “What I'm about to ask is probably treason.”

Cadrin sighs. “That is rarely an encouraging way to begin a sentence. Please don⁠—”

I interrupt him before he has the chance to finish. “I want you both to pretend this little trip never happened.”

Riven’s mouth twitches. “You’re asking the Shadow Guard to keep secrets from the king?”

“No, I'm asking the Shadow Guard not to volunteer information to the king. There’s a difference!”

“Those are two very different requests,” Riven says, smiling mischievously.

“They are indeed.” I smile, nodding my head in agreement.

Cadrin folds his arms. “His Majesty will know.”

“He doesn't have to know from you.” I poke at his chest, narrowing my eyes on him.

Riven studies me for a long moment before glancing at Cadrin. “I didn't hear anything today.”

Cadrin groans, running an exasperated hand down his face. “Riven.”

“What? I have a poor memory. That’s not my fault!” Riven throws his arms up like Cadrin just accused him of murder.

I can’t help but grin.

“You have an excellent memory,” Cadrin says, narrowing his eyes at him.

“I do,” Riven agrees, nodding. “It's unfortunate.”

Despite himself, Cadrin huffs a quiet laugh.

I shake my head, laughing. “You two are terrible guards.”

“We're excellent guards,” Riven corrects. “We’re merely selective conversationalists.”