often.” She sipped her tuaca, holding the steaming hot cup in her tiny, gnarled old hands. “You are like your grandfather in that way.”
“Not my father?” I clarified, letting her observation fill me with pride.
“No, you’re nothing like your father,” she grunted with a bark of a laugh. “Your father knew exactly what he wanted and went after it. You are nothing like him.”
I felt the fullness of my pride deflate like a punctured balloon, squeaking out in a disappointing rush of emotion. I forced myself to take a drink of the scorching hot cup of liquid fire in my hands to keep myself from reminding her of how I went after the Monarchy, knowing that wasn’t what she was exactly talking about…. except I didn’t really know what she was talking about.
Amelia stood up from across the fire, and as if she somehow knew my mood had changed she gave me a look of tight concern. I held her gaze, giving nothing away, but finding comfort in those warm, golden brown eyes that were at this moment, brighter than the flames burning the wood in front of me. She didn’t look away until a small child tugged at her hand and then she let herself be led to where I knew they would be cooking the meal for the evening.
“Alright, enough reminiscing,” I cleared my throat and forced my mind back to business. “What is this vision you’ve had?” I demanded, only softening my tone for the old lady’s benefit slightly.
“You’re not safe. Not anymore. Three years of peace, but they’ve been plotting and it’s your head they want next.” Ileana stated quickly, her eyes never leaving the fire.
The breath was knocked from my lungs as if someone had dealt me a physical blow. This wasn’t a warning, this was the future. I gripped the hot cup in my hands tightly making the poisonous alcohol slosh over the sides of the tin cup onto my jeans.
I knew this though. Instinctively, deep down inside of me I knew something like this was brewing. But having it said out loud by someone else, someone with a special insight, felt like nails being pounded into my premature coffin.
My Kingdom was too new, too fragile for another civil war. They, whoever those heartless, stupid bastards were, would win just because my people were not stable enough to make the right decisions and see through their bullshit. Hell, they had voted for another king. Voted for it. When given the chance for ultimate, democratic freedom after thousands of years of oppression, prejudice and tyranny they had voted to be kept under someone else’s thumb! This was going to end badly.
“Tell me what you know,” I turned to face her, demanding every bit of knowledge she could muster.
Half of my short life had been spent fighting for something I desperately believed in and the beginning training for it. These bastards weren’t going to take down everything I had worked my ass off for over the last ten years without a fight.
A damned good fight, I thought as my magic sparked vigorously in my veins, sending a rush of renewed and dormant energy through my body.
Chapter Seven
“Who are they, Ileana?” I asked in a carefully calculated voice. I felt the rage and frustration simmering in my blood, heating to a quick boil and threatening to explode.
Are you Ok? Eden gasped into my consciousness. She felt the panic thicken my blood even though we had been keeping ourselves separated. It would have been the same for me though, if our roles were reversed.
I’m fine. We’ll talk when I get back tonight . I forced myself to calm down, to admit to myself there was no immediate danger and I would stop the bastards before anyone was hurt. If I could control the situation, there was nothing to worry about. And I would control the situation.
Avalon,