There was no tension pulling it now...
Panic filled me. I didn’t want to risk looking at Miron a second time, but right now I was too distracted by the idea of him falling to his death. Without hesitation, I stuck my head out the tower window and peered straight down. I gasped in horror as my eyes locked onto the end of the fluttering curtain.
Miron was gone.
“Wh-where?” My words stumble out of my mouth in panicked gasps as I looked down into the plummeting depth.
He couldn’t have fallen, right? He still had a vision to follow through with... There’s no chance he could die without fulfilling the terms of the future, right? My chest burned with worry when a sudden noise clattered above my head. In my state of frenzy, I turned my gaze upward and locked onto Miron’s eyes.
Both relief and anger filled me as I felt my magic stir to life in my veins. He was crouched at the top of the window’s peaked frame, precariously balancing on the narrow gable. My braid swung freely through the open air as the light sparkled its metallic glow. The familiar warmth of my power rushed through me, and I pressed my hands over my eyes before I could look any longer.
“You idiot!” I called out as I ducked my head back in the window. Power surged through me and my sight disappeared beneath my hands.
It’s the throne room. I have seen it enough times to recognize the stained-glass windows and obsidian throne in the background. Miron is looking at someone, but it’s blurry. He hears a loud call, but the words are muffled in his mind. He looks up and there’s another man only inches from his face.
It’s the eldest prince... and he’s smiling wickedly.
Miron looks down slowly, following the prince’s arm until he sees the jeweled hilt of a steel sword. Miron stumbles back and coughs, then looks down once more as the sword is pulled from his chest and he collapses lifelessly to the ground. His vision fades and there’s more yelling in the background, but the only thing Miron can see is the murderous prince cackling victoriously above him.
The vision vanished, and I snapped back into reality.
Miron was going to die at his brother’s hand...
chapter eleven
After the vision left me, I stared blankly at the wall. I couldn’t think, move, or even breathe. A cold sweat layered my skin and for a long moment, I didn’t even realize Miron was embracing me from behind. I jumped away from his touch after noticing and made certain to shut my eyes before facing him.
“What do you think you’re doing!?” I shrieked as I wrapped my arms defensively around my body. His touch had felt so natural that I didn’t even notice it. When had he even take hold of me?
“I’m sorry, you were just shaking so much I was worried you might fall,” he explained frantically. For a moment, I thought I noticed a touch of embarrassment in his voice. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. You just looked as if you had seen a ghost.”
I gripped myself tighter as a dark truth came to light.I’m essentially talking to one now.“You shouldn’t have scared me like that, by climbing up the window. I thought you had fallen.” My voice still shook, but it was angrier than before.
“I didn’t think you would worry so much,” he whispered, his footsteps echoing gently off the floors as he approached me gingerly. “Here, it’s your blindfold.” He brushed the silk gently against my hand, and I snatched it. The silk calmed me as it slid smoothly across my dark lashes. “You saw a vision again, didn’t you?” Miron stepped back slowly. His words were slow and cautious, as if he worried I would spook further.
“Yes,” I answered guardedly. “And I wouldn’t have seen it if you hadn’t been so careless.”
“Was it as scary as it looked?” Miron actually sounded nervous.How bad did I look just now?He seemed almost as frightened as I felt.
“I think you should go now.” I gripped at my arms tightly as I turned my gaze toward the floor. Everything was too fresh; I couldn’t talk about it now.
The prince didn’t reply, but instead, walked over to the door. I didn’t move from my spot as he picked open the lock and pulled the door open. “I’m sorry, Elle.” His voice was low and sincere. “I just want you to know that I heard everything. That was extremely brave of you, but it’s only going to get harder now. I’ll do what I can to help, but as your almost-friend, I want you to know that I’m proud of you. I don’t know what you saw just now, but I hope it’s something I can help you through next time.”
A small tug of guilt pulled at my heart, and I raised my hand to stop him from leaving, but the door clicked shut before I could stop him.What am I doing...?I barely knew the prince, yet I felt guilty for withholding the truth behind his future. I pulled the blindfold from my eyes and sank down onto the floor.He’s going to die... Conan will become king after all.How would this all come to happen? Wasn’t Miron meant to attack me? I don’t understand.
I drifted over to the armchair where I had hidden Miron’s paper earlier. With cold hands I lifted the cushion from the frame and retrieved the crinkled parchment. I scanned over the paper with an equal blend of hesitancy and hungry curiosity.
King Ivan and Queen Violet... Fire... Baby princess not found... Unusual hair...
Estelle.
I set the paper down with stuttered movements. The parchment missed the chair and floated aimlessly onto the floor, as discarded as the history it represented. With ghostly movements, I stepped over to my art cabinet and retrieved a lump of clay from a porcelain jar. The moist clay molded easily beneath my touch and absorbed my tension with each deliberate sculpt. Most days I could sculpt without even watching my hands work. My sight had become less of an essential sense and more of a luxury. My fingers crafted mindlessly as my thoughts surged on.
Miron had been telling the truth. Unless he forged that paperwork, I matched the princess’s description perfectly. Surely, no one else could be such a perfect match... My hands rolled a thin cylinder out of the clay and continued to sculpt something my mind hadn’t even caught onto yet.
What was I going to do about the king? If he was heartless enough to kill my parents in cold-blood, then he wasn’t bluffing about the threats he made to me. I needed a plan... and honestly, I needed to leave.
The thought terrified me. Just thinking about my experience with the outside world was enough to make me want to board my window up. As much as I loved the sanctity of my tower, I couldn’t rely on the king. It had become increasingly clear to me in the last hour that his hospitality toward me was about as stable as a thin sheet of ice spanning over a bottomless lake.