“The struggle is long and many are its participants. The journey you have embarked upon is but the first step along the path. The evil has chosen you because of your position of influence and because of the emptiness within you.”

 

“Can I not rid myself of this mark?”

 

The woman began speaking more swiftly now. “Look to two strangers for aid, for fate brings them to you. Beware those that are not what they seem and the traitor. A traitor among you will insist you continue to Alderan when it seems you should not. Remember, only death awaits in Alderan.”Adrina regarded the woman and started to say something but Emel cut her off. “What is so important about this ship from Wellison? Why should we even listen to you? You should flee before the garrison soldiers find you and run you through.”

 

“Speak not words in haste, oft you may regret the reply. Yet if this is what you truly wish to know, I will tell you. Know there is a heavy price. Once a thing is known, you may not so easily turn away.” The woman paused and stared into Emel’s eyes, seemingly pleased with what she saw, she continued. “The ship from Wellison has a most precious cargo, the heir to the throne of Sever. At this very moment, King Charles lies dying in his bed. An assassin’s poison is slowly eating away at him. Alas there is no cure, a terrible poison.

 

“The evil uses King Jarom’s lust for power just as it uses you and many others. He sees himself seated in the throne room of Imtal Palace. He means to plunge the kingdoms into war. To be sure, he will use the death of Charles and the fears of the heir to his own ends.”

 

“Can I not rid myself of this evil?” repeated Adrina.

 

“Please leave us now,” said the woman to Emel, “go to your watch fire. The soldiers are near. I would speak to Adrina alone.”

 

Emel hesitantly turned away, his pace just slow enough to hear their continued whispers.

 

“The evil brings the change you so wished for. It has found a home in the emptiness of your heart. You care too little for those around you. You see not the servants who toil for you, workers in the fields on their hands and knees with the whip at their backs, drudges scouring the kitchen floors—”

 

“I am not heartless,” protested Adrina.

 

“Did I say heartless?” asked the woman. “Tell me, what is the name of the servant girl who cares so much for you that she remains awake through the night to re-stoke your hearth only to feel the lashings of a whip at her back the next day for laziness?”

 

Adrina fumbled for a name. “She is a servant girl, nothing more.”

 

“Myrial,” whispered Emel.

 

“Queen Alexandria, your mother, would have shed tears at the hearing. Your position has made you forget there are others in the land that suffer. Your father is not the strong and caring king he once was. Fault him not; there are those who use his grief to their own ends. You must open your eyes.”

 

Adrina tried to raise an objection. The lady continued. “Go now. Look for the two strangers, find the son of Charles, beware the traitor and those that are not what they seem. Say nothing of our conversation to anyone.”

 

“But what can I do? I cannot rouse the southern garrisons to arms.”

 

“I did not say to rouse the garrisons. Would you so foolishly provoke war?” The woman paused and stared into the shadows. “And Emel Brodstson, if you have heard enough, continue on your way. Remember, there is always a heavy price.”