“What were those words the… ‘Soothsayer--” I say slowly, testing the strange name on my tongue. “--was saying?”
Sitri snorts. “All bullshit.”
“What are they though?”
“Old prophecy about the downfall of Magi.”
“The nought shall bear the crown—“
“The nought shall bear the crown of fate. The Magi’s fall, the floods debate,” Sitri quotes.
“What about the touch of ruin?”
He sighs. “The touch of ruin will be clear that the end is drawing near.”
I shift, uncomfortable that the touch of ruin does line up with the daemon trapped inside my body. “You don’t actually think it’s about me?”
“No, pet, I don’t think you’ll be the downfall of Magi,” he snorts. “I don’t think any nought will be the downfall of Magi. I think the prophecy is just referring to the fact that Magi will all be noughts again someday.”
I want to ask what exactly the firebranding means but even thinking of doing so, especially with the way his aunt Delyah acted about it brings warmth flooding to my cheeks and I can’t coax the words past my lips. We lapse into periods of silence, only the blur of green surrounding us and the gentle sway of our gait.
I don’t even realize I’m on the verge of falling asleep until I’m jolting back awake. He has an arm wrapped across my chest, holding me firmly against him to keep me upright. My cloak is pulled low over my head past my eyes. I draw it back slightly and recognize the inner workings of Samore. I straighten, tugging his hand off of my shoulder, though not unkindly.
“I’m sorry,” I groan with a yawn. “I don’t know why I’m so tired.”
“Your body’s been through a lot.”
Once we hand Epona off to the stable caretaker, he turns to me, “I thought you might like to go see Vera and get something to eat first thing.” I pat at my rumpled dress and smooth at my messy hair. “You look fine,” he says knowingly. “But we can go up first if you prefer.”
“No, we can go see Vera,” I agree.
“I don’t think she thought I’d be successful.”
We fix our platesbefore heading toward the swinging door. Vera's arms are full of an assortment of pots and pans. She stops and gapes. A single pan springs loose from her arms and clatters noisily to the floor, and she gapes some more. She reaches down to pick up the pan and drops another in the process. “Oh, to hell with it,” she mutters as she drops them all to the floor. Her eyes flicker back and forth between the two of us and linger on me, widening in the manner of someone looking straight at a ghost. I grin widely.
“Gods, look at you! You’re well again?” She looks at Sitri for confirmation, and he nods, smiling. She launches herself at me and squeezes my shoulders as she scrutinizes me before dragging me into a tight embrace, my feet lifting from the ground with her exuberance. I let out a shaky laugh. She settles me back on my feet and studies me again. “I never thought I’d see you again. How?” I shrug, lifting a palm in Sitri’s direction. “How?” she asks.
His chest puffs, all arrogance as he says, “I am a prince, Vera. You know my privileges extend well beyond the limitations of others.” My eyes roll to the back of my sockets but I know him well enough by now to see it’s an act. Maybe Vera senses it, too, because her eyes narrow slightly.
He slides a stool out, about to take his seat, when Vera interrupts him by pulling him into a tight embrace as well. He’s bewildered for a moment, arms bound to his sides, before he flashes me a lopsided grin. She inches back, still clutching at his arms as she says, “You know I think you’re incredible, right?” His smile quickly fades into something pained. “You know that, right?” She asks, shoving at him slightly. He works a swallow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as uncomfortable as he is at this moment. “I missed you, Sitri.” An admonishment.
“I missed you too,” he says hoarsely.
“And, I never understood why you never came to see me after—“ Her voice breaks on the last word.
“It was better that I didn’t.”
“Why?” she whispers, an array of emotion in that one word. Hurt and anger and pain and abandonment. Her hands drop down to her sides.
“Vera,” he says slowly, eyes shuttering closed. “It’s still better if I didn’t—it puts you at risk. But I wanted…” His eyes flicker over to me for a brief moment before hardening. “ You should be aware of that. And, if you did not want us to come here anymore…”
“That’s nonsense!”
He shakes his head. “It’s not. It could be dangerous for you.”
She doesn’t back down, doesn’t look away. “I really don’t care.”
He imparts a single nod, chest deflating before his lip curls into a heart-wrenching half smile and he squeezes her shoulder. “Okay.”
