“This is all about some prophecy?” Wendeline mentioned it the last time we sat here but didn’t elaborate. It didn’t seem important to her.
“Not some prophecy. The prophecy. You and Zander were meant to find each other.”
“And what does Zander think about it?”
Her brow pinches.
“You haven’t told him.”
“I tried, but he will not listen.”
“Why not?”
“Because he is not ready to accept it yet. He is still struggling with his pride after what Aoife did to him.”
She means the bewitched king situation, I assume.
“Neither of you are ready, but you will be. I can already see it in the way you look at each other.” There is urgency in her vague words.
“Ready for what, though? You’re speaking in riddles.” My anger flares. I had enough of those with Sofie. More than anything, though, I’ve had enough of hiding, of stumbling my way through this mess alone. I’ve had enough of people lying to me. I’ve finally reached my breaking point. “Do you even have any idea what I am or why I’m here?”
Her blue eyes search my face. She exhales slowly, as if making a decision. “You are a key caster, and I assume Malachi has sent you here to try to open the nymphaeum door.”