The Infernal King | 1 ✓

CHAPTER III | A FORETOLD TRUTH

       THE MORNING OF the spring equinox, the nineteen-year-old soothsayer was awoken by frantic pounding on her cottage's front door. The knocking was loud and incessant, demanding her immediate attention. She jolted violently out of her slumber—she had been on edge ever since the previous evening, when she'd recited the prophecy about the king.

       It was clearly late morning due to the amount of natural light that trickled in through the windows. The home was no longer in the dark, as it had been the night before. It was small, with sufficient space between the dinner table and the bed, but no walls separating the two. There were ornate teacups stacked on a windowsill, a bookshelf that was overflowing with books and a fireplace that contained charred wood. The floor was made of stone.

       To the left of the front door was the table, where Maarit practiced her soothsaying. The candles and the book both remained untouched, but she had dumped the nutmeg water in front of the house before going to bed.

       The knocking was growing louder and Maarit realized that there was more than one person knocking. With a sudden alertness, her heart pounding in her chest, she rose from her bed and ran to the front door, her dressing gown whipping at her ankles. Her feet were bare and the cold stone of the floor made goosebumps appear on her legs.

       Maarit reached the door and flung it open, nearly making one of the two people at the door—who had clearly been leaning on it—fall into her.

       Standing at the door were two of her friends, the Valence brothers.

       Keion and Helios were two of the only people that were aware of the fact that Maarit was a soothsayer. Keion was three years older than Maarit, whereas Helios was five months younger than her. The two brothers were the same height and had the same attractive face structure. They looked relatively alike, with the exception of their hair and eye colour. Keion had light blue eyes and darker hair; Helios had brown eyes and honey-coloured hair.

       Keion happened to be the one who nearly fell over when she opened the door—however, he straightened himself immediately at the sight of the young woman in her dressing gown. He tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear, sighing heavily.

       "What are you two doing here?" she demanded forcefully, her eyes wide and accusing. "I was asleep and you scared the living daylights out of me! Why were you banging on my door? And what is so urgent?"

       Her eyes took in the sight of the brothers, both of whom appeared completely dishevelled and distressed. Keion's hair stuck out messily and Helios was breathing hard, as though they had been running. The expressions on their faces were somber, unlike they usually were. Upon realizing that something was not right, Maarit's eyes softened and her face fell.

       "Has something happened?" she asked, this time in a much gentler manner. Fear flared up in her chest and she involuntarily glanced sideways at her book of prophecies. A pit settled to the bottom of her stomach.

       She knew exactly what was wrong before they even told her.

       "Maarit," Helios panted breathlessly, a grave expression gracing his face. "King Tevenot... poisoned... dead."

       The weight of the sentence—even though it was a broken one—made an indent in the air. The death of the king was always an incredibly big deal among the citizens of Bonvalet. When a monarch died, the entire country—after spreading the news as quickly as possible—would mourn. But this was different. Maarit knew from the prophecy that King Tevenot had not died of old age or natural causes. The most crucial part of the whole ordeal was that he had been murdered.