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“I am very glad I ran into you, I have something I need to talk to you about, but it cannot be here. We can use my room.” The sudden insistence in his tone made her stomach curl with distaste.
She meant to say that she didn’t think that was the best idea, but the way his eyes seemed to bore into her made her hold her tongue. They carefully made their way to his rooms, and Wren vowed to herself to maintain a respectable distance taking heed of Sophie’s words. Sophie had been right that she could not keep both of them and that it wasn’t fair to either of them.
When they arrived at Wesley’s rooms, he went to his desk where he pulled out a piece of paper, his brow creased as he studied it.
“Wesley, what is it, what’s wrong?” She went to him and placed her hand on his arm trying to put him at ease.
“Gods, Wren, I don’t want to be the one to tell you this. Please, sit down.” Heeding his words while anxiety bloomed afresh in her chest, she looked at him.
He fiddled with the paper in his hands. “Ever since you told me about everything, I’ve been searching through everything I could find. When you got sick I got desperate. I snuck into the Bishop’s rooms and went through his things. At first, I thought it was pointless, but then I found this.” He held out the paper to her and she took it, her hand shaking. Wesley was always calm and composed that if he was this rattled it must be something truly terrible.
She read over the paper, panic filling her stomach. Wesley took her hands. “There was a third verse of the prophecy.”
“I can see that,” she replied, her voice shaking.
A gift forsaken
Freely given
Once claimed
Death be called
“What does it mean, Wesley?” Her voice shook.
Wesley wrapped his arms around her and she didn’t argue despite her earlier resolve. She buried her head in his chest, trying to will her breathing to calm. They both knew the words on the paper foretold of her death.
“We can fight this, but we have to be quick. Wren, I need you to be honest with me, even if it hurts me.” She nodded into his chest. “Do you love Malaki?”
She pulled away from him, shocked at the question. He was looking down at her so sincerely and with such need that she found herself answering. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “Why would you ask me this?”
He gave a sigh of relief. “Because I believe I’ve figured out the prophecy. The first verse talks about the past and Serephina’s punishment. The second your return to Valmere. The last though, I think is speaking of how your magic can be claimed by any mortal.”
“I don’t understand,” she said dumbly.
“I found papers in the Bishop’s rooms. I believe that they meant to make you fall in love with the prince so that he could be the one to claim that power, but Wren—” He paused as if he would have given anything to not have to speak his next words. “Malaki knew. It was his plan. He’s been writing them updates on your progress. It’s how the Bishop knew about your mark. In his latest note, he spoke of how your mark had grown and that he suspects you are close to being in love with him, enough that he can take the magic for himself.”
Wren shook her head and backed away from him. “That’s absurd, Wesley. Kai would never. How could you say that?”
He looked at her with such sympathy that it made her want to scream. “Wren, I saw the letters. I saw what he has planned for you.”
“Tell me,” she demanded.
A sigh of defeat left his shoulders slumping as he produced a piece of parchment from his coat. With trembling hands she took it, already recognizing the scrawling script from the papers he had given her with all his research months ago.
Wren’s progress has been slow, no thanks in part to my inability to move past my disgust at pretending to care for her. If I didn’t see the proof of the marks on her skin I would have discarded this plan long ago. Keeping Sophie in the dark has proved difficult, but I suspect we are close now. As of yesterday, the mark has grown which if our suspicion is correct means that we are close to the prophecy being fulfilled.
As to our previously discussed problem, I have set in motion a plan to remove Prince Wesley from our court. It’s clear that he is becoming more of a problem and we cannot afford to have him distract the girl else all of this was for nothing. I may need you to put some more fear into her once more as the last proved successful in pushing her towards me. Your service in this endeavor will be rewarded when all this is done.
-KB
Her chest felt hollow. She might as well have been the lost and broken girl who had first stepped foot into this castle. Despite the words written on the parchment before her, her mind raged against them. This had to be some trick of the Bishop’s. He was cruel in the worst ways and it was not below him to fabricate such lies.
Wesley moved towards her, but she stepped away from him not wanting to be touched. He sighed. “They think, because of the last line, that if he kills you once he is sure you love him, then he will be able to take the power and use it to take Valmere for himself. It seems he has been working with his father and the Bishop for a long time. There were many letters, but I only dared take one. He helped to bring you here, Wren.”
“This isn’t true.” Tears rolled down her face. “I will talk to him, he will explain it.”
Wesley was there again, wrapping his arms around her. This time she was too exhausted and fragile to stop him. “We have to go, Wren. As soon as I found out, I went to the harbor and bought a ship and crew so that we can leave and keep you safe. I swear I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
