Diviner's Prophecy (Book One Diviner's Trilogy)

by Nicolette Andrews

  “Your Highness, calm yourself!” a man shouted.

  “I shall strike mine enemy before their wicked tongue soothes me into my own death.” The woman continued, apparently ignoring the man.

  A child’s scream pierced through the chaos, and I jumped to my feet to investigate. A rod iron gate separated the garden from another inner garden. Tall hedges lined the gate, and from behind them, the voices continued to ring out.

  “I have brought from my womb the death of all things!” the woman wailed.

  “Mommy!” a child cried.

  I shook the gates, helpless to assist. Two guards jogged into the inner courtyard, their boots ringing on the flagstone. A woman, her dark hair wild and unkempt, rocked back and forth, muttering incoherently under her breath. A child stood not far from her, small hands balled into fists on the front of her gown. Her ebony curls were pulled back today, and her blue eyes red from crying. Princess Edalene sniffled as the woman, who I assumed to be her mother, continued to rage.

  “The child of two crowns will be our undoing. You must slay the dragon before it learns to breathe fire!”

  The guards each grabbed one arm of the woman, who slipped from their grasp and turned to scratch at their faces. They avoided her attack by ducking, but it gave her the opportunity to lunge for Edalene.

  I shook at the gate and shouted for Edalene. She turned her tear-filled blue eyes towards me, but she seemed transfixed to the spot. Her mother was caught about the waist by one of the guards and hauled back before she could land a hand on the child. I wrenched at the gate once more before the latch gave. I stumbled through and ran to Edalene’s side. I opened up my arms to her, and she wrapped small arms around my neck and buried her face into my shoulder. I rubbed comforting circles into her back as the men worked to drag the woman away.

  The woman, noticing me, stopped and stared for a long moment. Her guards took the opportunity to get a better grasp on her and tugged more insistently to bring her inside.

  “Daughter of the blood! Heed your prophecy’s eye. Do not be blinded!”

  “Call for the prince!” one of the guards shouted over her to a servant, who stood in the doorway wringing his hands.

  Edalene sobbed harder and clutched the sleeves of my dress. I looked away, ignoring her mad ravings.

  “Why does my momma hate me?” she whispered.

  I murmured nonsense comforts, wishing I could take the pain away for her. I tried to turn her tears to smiles by telling her a favorite childhood tale of mine about a clever fox that tricked a bear into making his supper. It was one Damara had taught me as a girl. It was a strange thing to remember at such a time, but it soothed the child. The shouts and threats echoed from within, but the woman did not reemerge.

  I managed to coax Edalene out of the inner courtyard and onto a nearby bench before the fountain, where she laid her head on my lap while I played with her long hair, spinning the tale for her. I tried not to think about Sabine, whom the child closely resembled, trapped in the tower, awaiting an uncertain future. Or Damara, who had taught me the story while I, too, had laid my head on her lap, letting her stroke my hair.

  “Edalene, are you here?” a familiar voice called out. My head shot up to meet Adair’s tired gaze. “Maea, what are you doing here?” There was no accusation in his tone, only wonder.

  “I came to find you, and well—” I paused and looked down at Edalene. Her tears had dried, and she sat up, a smile tilting her rose petal lips.

  She glanced between the pair of us, beaming all the while. Though I was pleased she had cheered up, I wondered if it was more than her brother’s presence that had turned her mood. “Brother is very fond of you. He told me so,” she said in a stage whisper.

  My stomach flopped, but I smiled at the girl. “Is that so,” I whispered back in the same manner. I glanced sidelong at Adair, who pretended not to be listening.

  Edalene nodded vigorously.

  Adair came and knelt beside her. He grabbed one of her small hands in his. “Darling, I need to speak with Lady Diranel for a moment. Go with Mistress Verner to your chambers, and I will be there shortly.”

  She nodded and joined a robust woman who awaited her at the other end of the enclosed garden. She turned back one last time before leaving and gave me a wink. I laughed despite my tension. The action reminded me strongly of her brother.

  He turned back to me once she had disappeared around the garden walls. “I will never understand how you arrive at just the right times.” He took a seat beside me and stared at the door where his mother had disappeared. Her shouts had desisted, but his brow remained furrowed. “Edalene knows not to come in Mother’s garden, that it’s forbidden to her. I am surprised she came here.”

  I wanted to ask him more about his mother, about why she had acted the way she did, but I thought it inappropriate and said instead, “Can you blame the child for wanting to see her mother?”

  He sighed. “No, but whenever she sees Edalene, she has these—attacks. I suppose I should have expected it. She has been good for a while now. Perhaps this business with Sarelle has her upset. I tell the servants to hold their tongues but—”

  I felt for Edalene. Her mother feared her, it seemed. I had never known my mother, but I could imagine the pain the child felt being rejected by her. Adair looked to me and stopped, perhaps thinking he had said too much.

  I changed the subject from the sensitive topic. “Adair, I wish this was a pleasure visit, but—Sabine has been imprisoned for the murder of Princess Sarelle.”

  Adair paused, the only indication of his shock. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I heard. I was going to find you when they came to fetch me to calm my mother.”

  His reaction was more frustrating than comforting. Though I appreciated his concern, Sabine was the one who was really in danger. “You have to speak to the king. He cannot believe that Sabine had anything to do with this.”

  “I have already spoken to him, and he will not hear anything on the subject.” Adair sighed again and ran his hands through his hair. It’s not so simple. It’s Dallen’s only child that died; he will not be easy to appease. Besides, Sabine is here as a surety no harm would come to Sarelle. If Sarelle has been murdered as you say, then Sabine’s life is in danger.”

  “Do you think he suspects a Neaux plot against the princess? Do they mean to start another war?” Was this what the visions warned me of? Was I blinded by my own selfishness and unable to see it until now?

  “We cannot say. For now we wait. My uncle will send messengers to Neaux for negotiations. Until that is complete, Sabine will be locked in the tower.”

  I gasped and tried to choke back my sob. I had not taken that factor into account. I had hoped against reason it was not so, but to hear it put so bluntly, it threatened to be my undoing.

  Adair grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eye. “Do not give up, because we have the greatest weapon in Sabine’s defense.”

  I raised my brow in question. “What do you mean? If the king cannot be swayed, what else is left?”

  “You, Maea, you are a diviner. You can use your power to prove Sabine’s innocence. If you can convince the king that she was not involved, even if the worst were to happen, her life may yet be saved.”

  I wanted to laugh. What could I do for Sabine? Had I foreseen this, perhaps I could have helped, but nothing I could say would change the fact that Sarelle was dead. “It is not that easy. I have no influence here.”

  “No, it will not be that simple.” He stood to pace the length of the enclosure. “We shall need to summon the council; the Order of the Oak must gather. We shall come to a decision in this matter, and we will find a way to save Sabine, no matter the cost.” He paced as he plotted, and I relaxed, knowing that I had done the right thing in going to Adair. How could I have doubted him? Sarelle had been his cousin, and he believed me before the official decree that Sabine was involved.

  “You don’t know how happy you’ve made me,” I sa
id.

  He stopped pacing and turned to face me as if he had forgotten I was there. He smiled, however, and kneeled on the ground in front of me. He took my hand from my lap. He turned it over in his and brushed his thumb along the metal ring I wore on my thumb. “You’re wearing my ring.”

  “You gave it to me.” I dropped my gaze and tried to pull away, but he drew me closer.

  I tilted my head back and gazed into the depths of his sapphire eyes. His lips were near enough to touch, and I leaned in ever so slightly. At the back of my mind, the reasonable part of me screamed to stop, to see sense. He was a notorious womanizer, and I was no one, houseless, and without ally except for him.

  He leaned in, and I held my breath. Do not. No, do.

  “Your Highness.”

  We pulled apart, and my cheeks burned. The expression of the servant who interrupted us was indifferent, as if he stumbled across the prince in this sort of situation often. Perhaps he did.

  “Your mother has requested you. Will you come?” the servant asked.

  “Yes, in a moment,” Adair replied.

  The servant disappeared back inside, and Adair turned one last time to me. “I shall see you soon.” He pressed his lips to my wrist and left me there, my heart beating in my throat.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It took some finagling on Adair’s behalf; however, he managed to get me an audience with Sabine. They imprisoned her in the tower, and often times, while going about the palace, I found my eyes drawn there, wondering how she fared. The prison guard led Earvin, who never left my side as of late, and I up the wending stairs. The drab, gray walls recalled the vision from Adair’s reading. I never asked him about the hand beckoning to him. I wondered now who it had been.

  We reached the top floor, and as I had seen in the vision, a long corridor awaited us. At the far end, a rounded-top wooden door loomed. I paused at the top of the steps, hesitant to proceed further. A thought eluded my grasp, and I concentrated, trying to make sense of this peculiar feeling. Earvin’s gentle hand at my elbow brought me from my reverie. I dismissed the thought and followed the guard down to the end of the hall. Upon reaching the door, he extracted a ring of keys. They jangled as he inserted them into the lock.

  The door creaked as it swung open, and my heart fluttered with anticipation. The guard stepped inside first before gesturing for us to follow. Inside, Sabine sat below a window set high up in the wall. Outside of it, storm clouds gathered, and the patter of the rain on the sill echoed through the barren chamber.

  She turned to face me, and relief washed over her face, exaggerating the circles beneath her eyes. I held my emotions in check in an attempt to be strong for her sake. We strode across the chamber to one another, and I enveloped her in an embrace. She clung to the back of my dress, not speaking, merely holding onto me.

  “You have five minutes,” the guard snarled and then stomped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “Maea, is it really you, or is this a cruel dream?”

  “I am here, and I bring good tidings.”

  Her shoulders relaxed as we pulled apart to face one another. I kept her hand in mine, squeezing it gently.

  “I would be glad to hear something with a spirit of cheer.”

  “Adair has a plan to free you. He is calling the Order of the Oak together to—” I stopped. Sabine’s expression had transformed from hopeful to closed. She withdrew from my grasp and turned away from me,

  “That is good news, indeed. I am sure they will be able to think of something.”

  I touched her shoulder; the tension had returned. “You are not pleased. I thought you would be happy to hear the news.”

  Sabine turned back to me and smiled. “I am very grateful to you, Maea. You have done more for me than I could ever hope to return. However the Order—and I do not mean to insult you by doubting your plan—they have certain goals in mind, some that I fear may not be to our benefit.”

  “Adair has told me plainly that they seek only the betterment of the kingdom.”

  “And I am sure they have honorable intentions at heart, but the whispers say otherwise. They have many influential and ambitious men among their number.”

  Her doubt stung, and with it, I began to second-guess my convictions. “What are you saying?”

  Earvin shuffled his feet behind me, and they scraped along the stone floor. I imagined him reaching for a sword he did not have; the guards had searched and removed all his weapons. I held my hand up over my shoulder, warning him to stand down.

  “I just do not want you to get hurt, Maea, not because of me.” Her eyes darted over my shoulder, presumably towards Earvin. Did she fear speaking freely in front of Earvin? I wished we had more time to share to get the answers to the questions that Sabine’s uncertainty brought to mind.

  I touched her arm, and she faced me one more time with a forced smile. The guard rapped on the door, signaling that our time was up. “I will free you, I swear.” She placed her hand over mine and said no more. I left there unable to shake the uncertain feeling. What if Sabine was right and the Order had ill intentions? I trusted Adair. However, the order itself was another matter.

  *~*~*

  Adair arrived to escort me to the meeting of the Order. Sabine’s doubts continued to plague my mind, and I had spent more than one sleepless night. A full month had passed since her imprisonment. It had taken that long to gather all the members, and my last hope in saving Sabine rested in their influence, the same that she doubted. Royal servants assisted me into a carriage, and Earvin took a seat beside the driver. As I climbed inside, a pattering of rain began to fall on the roof of the carriage. Winter had arrived with all of its dreary gray skies.

  Adair sat across from me in the carriage seat, a rakish grin in place. I smiled and then stared out the rain-streaked carriage windows.

  “Maea, you are being quiet tonight.”

  I jolted from my thoughts and looked at him. “I apologize. Something Sabine said has been on my mind.”

  “What is that?”

  “She’s concerned about the Order’s motives.”

  Adair measured me with a look before sighing, “I will not deceive you. There are those among our number who seek more than the greater good, those that have recently come to prominence.”

  I thought of Duke Sixton and the influx of merchants in Keisan’s court. “There are many like this among you?”

  “Among us,” he corrected with a smirk.

  I twisted the ring upon my finger. I had almost forgotten I, too, was numbered among the Order. “A few, we are nothing without numbers, but we are selective about whom we choose and whom makes the decisions.”

  “What could they be after, the merchants?” I thought of Sabine, in the Hall of Entertainment, surrounded by merchants. Did she fear those vying for her attention?

  He did not blink an eye at my deduction; perhaps he expected it of me. “The same thing many men want: power. They were not born as those among the houses with title and a place. They want to be like them, and so they emulate us.”

  “Are you sure they can be trusted?” Though Adair seemed confident, I could not be sure. Sabine’s uncertainty continued to plague my thoughts.

  “Positive.” He smiled, and I tried to put it from my mind and trust him.

  Our coach pulled up to Duke Wodell’s home, where the council held its gathering. I had met him once, though I doubt he remembered. It was shortly after the victory against the Biski, and I am sure he had more important things on his mind at the time than remembering a lady at court.

  I spied his home through the curtains of the carriage window, despite the drizzling rain. The two-story building emerged from the gray mist that pervaded everything as of late. The whitewashed exterior contrasted the gloom, as did the accents of red along the window trim. Double doors were set under a pair of marble colonnades that supported an arch. Servants dressed in black livery with a white thorn of House Wodell upon their breasts aisled the doorw
ay. One of them ran forward with a parasol to escort us into the house.

  Adair took my arm at first opportunity and led me up the short stairwell into the townhouse.

  In the receiving room, the duke and his wife awaited. The duke, a man of late middle age, ebony hair streaked with gray at the temples, greeted us with a smile.

  “Adair, my boy!” They embraced, clapping one another on the back.

  The duchess, pale and stern, eyed me with apparent displeasure. I realized belatedly we had been introduced when I had first arrived at Keisan. At the time, I only knew her as the feather-headed courtier, now I regretted my rash actions.

  “Your grace, thank you for your hospitality.” I bowed low in an attempt to smooth things over.

  She sniffed disdainfully.

  “Isabelle, my darling, where are your manners,” her husband chastised playfully.

  I glanced between the two of them, wondering how such a pair could be married. He, a rounding man with a twinkle of humor in his eye, and she, a waif of a woman with an upturned nose and sneer, seemed an unlikely pair.

  “Mikel! You old bastard! It’s good to see you!” Adair said, easing the tension in the room somewhat. “You’re maintaining those borders, I hope, since we chased those blood-cursed Biski back to their tents?”

  “The brigands would not dare tempt my wrath again, not with the garrison I have now, thanks to you, Your Highness.” He nodded as he stroked his beard.

  Adair bowed theatrically. “My pleasure, your grace.

  “Now you,” the duke enthused, his open expression fell on me, and he gave Adair a sly grin. “Who is this charming young woman? Is this the woman who you refused the Jerauchians for?”

  Adair smirked, and my cheeks flushed. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Earvin step a measure closer to me as if to hover protectively at my shoulder. The duke must have noticed because he glanced towards my guard, and his eyes narrowed the tiniest bit.

  “Now, now,” Adair said. “You know this isn’t the place to make jest of matters of state.”