CHAPTER 41

“Well, my dear, this is not how I wanted things to end for you.” Damien said, looking down at his granddaughter. He could sense her weakness and fear. “Where were you going just now?” he asked with ice in his foul voice.

“Nowhere. I just panicked,” the girl faltered.

He cackled. “You are becoming such a natural at Control. It is a pity you want to leave here in such a hurry. No matter. I am a gracious king, forgiving and merciful, even to the likes of you. Everything will go right back to normal if you look me in the eye and tell me that you know the truth: that Adwin is nothing compared to me, that he could never be as powerful as me, that he could never be worthy of your love and loyalty like me.”

Tovi looked away from him and seemed to be searching the mural for something. Damien watched her closely, wondering what had captivated her so completely. Her eyebrows drew together, and her head tilted to the side. Her gaze focused on something in the design, and there was a sudden intensity in her stance. Something was coming over her so strongly that it was visible. She began to transform, and he began to panic. Her hair faded from navy blue to light brown with thick golden streaks. Her eyes lightened to a sparkling baby blue, and the purple star disappeared. She looked up toward him, a dangerous energy emanating from her.

The girl in the mural. One of the four. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he took in her new colors that confirmed his fear. She was not only his heir; she was also one of the conquerors in the mural. Helena. Jairus. Tali. Tovi. If Lena had survived her execution all those years ago, the four could very possibly be reunited. The prophecy could come to pass. They could conquer the mountain and vanquish his legacy.

“You are nothing compared to Silas,” Tovi stated, her gaze now locked on her captor. He looked back at her. So lost in his thoughts of the prophecy, he had momentarily forgotten she was there.

He stood from his throne and marched toward her, grasping her arm just where there were fresh bruises. He pulled her to the wall and forced her to look at certain scenes. “Look at him, Tovi! He left us. He hated us. And he hates you, too. Do not be deceived by his lies. He hates you, Tovi. He hates you!” He was now in a frenzy, nearly jumping up and down with each emphasis. Black sweat was dripping into his eyes, clouding his vision. He swiped at the thick sludge, and he noticed his hands were webbed with dark veins. He was losing control.

“Don’t you see what a mess he left us in? Don’t you see what he has done? Look at this! Do you see the squalor? Do you see the suffering?” He pushed her toward the darker bits of the mural, the part after Silas had left. “Look at what happened when he abandoned me!”

Tovi pulled her arm from his grip and matched his glare.

Damien grabbed Tovi’s hand and yanked her glove away, exposing the brown heart. The sight of it made him want to kill her right then, regardless of his blood in her veins. The only thing stopping him was that he couldn’t risk her disappearance in front of Calix and so many guards. Better to let her rot in the dungeon without ever knowing her true identity.

“Get her out of my sight!” he roared.

As the guards held her by the elbows and started yanking her toward the door, she aimed one fiercer look at him. “Good night, Grandfather,” she said.

He seethed and watched her go. How did she know? How long had she known? Had she played him like a fool this entire time? Was this a part of the prophecy?

His frantic thoughts ricocheted in all directions. The prophecy. His offspring. How had she survived? How did she make her way back to this palace? Was it all a plot? A plan? A scheme that was somehow better than his own? Who had planned this? Who was responsible? Surely the girl didn’t do this on her own.

He gritted his teeth and glared at the mural.

Silas.