Chapter 15

Seraphina.

His face is glowing from the lamplight. I can sense his eyes shift toward mine. We are alone in the chamber begrudgingly given to me by the palace authorities.

I don’t want to give Alaric — the prince — the wrong impression.

And after the words of the historian I am even more on my guard. I watch my own emotions carefully.

“Seraphina,” he says softly. The light of the lamp licks his strong jaw, trails his Adam’s apple. Alaric’s pale blue eyes look at mine gingerly. His broad shoulders

I turn away from him and keep my eyes on the ground. I don’t want to be in love. I don’t want this.

“Take off your veil,” he says. “I want to see you.”

“No, Alaric,” I say. “We can’t.”

We can’t allow this. Only pain will come of our being together. People getting hurt — Ivy, who is laid up in the chamber next to this one.

Love is a lie. Love is an indulgence that we can’t afford.

But my body burns for him. I inhale sharply remembering the feeling of him inside me last night. Despite my better judgement…

Still turned away from him I move my hands to the ties of the veil at the back of my head. I pull the ribbon and the veil falls from my face onto the floor.

A hot bath steams beside me. The water reflects the soft light of the lamp. Orange and black ripple on the surface.

My mind flashes back to the words of the historian Oris Lysteron speaking to us in the tower just hours before.

My children, he said in his raspy old voice, you are fated. You can either embrace your destiny or put the future of the realm in jeopardy.

I didn’t ask for this! Neither did the prince!

And who’s to say that the prophesy even refers to us…

I am dirty from the barefoot walk from our cabin to the palace. I need to take a bath.

Knowing that the prince is still holding his gaze to my back, I slip my shift over my head. I turn to face him and lower my nude body into the hot water.

He looks at me hungrily. I move to wash my feet, running my hands up and down my legs. I can’t deny that I like when he looks at me. I can’t deny that he’s the only one I’ve ever wanted to see me.

When love’s call loosens all bonds

What was forgotten will be remembered.

Two shall break the tyranny of birth

With eyes violet and sky blue.

Evil has plagued the chosen ones,

Suffering is their inheritance.

The water moves with light and danger,

Awakening the great power of the lovers.

These were the words Oris read out from a scroll that looked impossibly old. Red ink gleamed on the paper in a language I did not recognize. The words of the prophesy ring in my head as I dip my silver-white hair into the hot water.

Who’s to say that the two in the prophecy are us? Surely there are others in the realm whose eyes are also light blue and purple?

One shall have the power to move hearts,

And the other that of all the elements.

Their power will remain as long

As their love lives.

I hear the sound of fingers snapping.

I look to Alaric. His broad-shouldered frame is stooping in concentration, looking at his fingers. His jet black hair falls gently across his eyes.

I notice a small flame burning just above his index finger. A small gasp escapes his lips.

He sees me looking at him, and the flame goes out.

I frown. “What was that?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” he says, looking a little shaken.

Tonight a battle is breaking out over Celestria. The sound of horses hooves and the shouts of men echo outside of the chamber walls. What have we awakened?

Would the Dark Ones have come even if we had never seen each other in the river that night? Even if our eyes had never met?

Surely someone from the palace, some servant or handler, will be here any minute. Then the prince will be taken away from me, and we will return to our rightful places. Him, the heir to the throne. Me, the low-born painter.

He looks at me intently, trying and failing to disguise the desire in his aquamarine eyes. “Do you think the prophecy is about us?” he asks.

“No,” I say, swishing the bath water gently. “It can’t be.”

Alaric sighs and looks to the window. “But what if it is,” he says.

I move my gaze from the water to his face. I shake my head.

I can’t be in love. That’s not my fate. Even with this beautiful, tall, well-formed man with touseled hair standing before me…we would be killed before we would be allowed to be together.

We would be hunted.

“Your Highness,” I say, “I’m a commoner. You’re the prince of the realm. You will one day sit on the Throne of the Twelve Kingdoms. You know we would never be accepted.”

Alaric’s lips form a tight line as he turns away from me. He raises his arm above his head and leans against the heavy stone wall of the chamber. He knows I’m right.

“We need to end this now before it gets any farther,” I continue.

The sinews of his neck twitch as he clenches and unclenches his jaw. He turns his head back to face me. His eyes pierce deeply into mine.

“You’re right,” he says.

Suddenly his face is just above mine. “Goodbye Seraphina Darkwater,” he says softly before pressing his lips into mine.

At the touch of his lips I melt as though the world itself were an extension of the warm bath. An impossible heat rises from between my legs.

Damn him! Damn him for doing this to me!

He pulls away and moves for the door. Impossible.

“Where will you go?” I say trying to hide the need in my voice, the lump in my throat.

“To battle,” he replies simply and shuts the door behind him.