Evangeline looked again at Tiberius’s broken key tattoo. The Fortuna matriarch had worn a chain with a similar key around her neck. She must have been a member of the Protectorate as well, and as soon as she’d suspected that Evangeline was the girl mentioned in the prophecy that kept the Valory Arch locked, the matriarch had tried to kill her.
Evangeline’s hope crashed and died.
Tiberius took another swig from the bottle in his hands. Even if the antidote worked and cured him of his artificial love for Marisol, Evangeline knew that she was never getting out of this room alive. Not if Tiberius believed she was part of a prophecy that once fulfilled would allow the Valory Arch to open and release the Valors’ terrible creation into the world.
“I’m sorry, Evangeline.” Tiberius’s voice hardened, and his hands gripped the fire iron tighter, knuckles turning white. “From the look on your face, I’m assuming you know what the Protectorate is, so you know what I have to do and why.”
“No,” Evangeline said. “I don’t know how you can kill someone because of a story that’s twisted by a curse. Your brother told me there are two different versions. In one, the Valory—”
“It doesn’t matter which version of the story is true!” A muscle popped in his jaw. “The Valory Arch can never be opened, which is why you have to die. I knew it as soon as I saw your hair. You’re the prophesized key. You were born to open it.” Tiberius lifted the iron once again, bringing it dangerously close to her skin.
Evangeline’s breathing hitched.
She was running out of chances to talk him out of this.
Sweat beaded at his brow and dropped onto the broken glass near his boots. But she was looking at the other glass—the almost-empty glass bottle in Tiberius’s hand. He’d nearly finished the antidote. It didn’t seem as if the truth serum was breaking Marisol’s spell, but Evangeline wondered if the side effects of her potion were kicking in: fatigue, impaired decision-making and judgment, dizziness, the inability to tell a lie, and the urge to reveal any unspoken truths.
Tiberius was definitely experiencing the inability to tell a lie, or she doubted he would have told her he didn’t believe she was guilty. Maybe if she pushed him enough, she could somehow lead him to confess the truth to his soldiers. Or she could finally get him to tell her what the entire prophecy was. Then maybe she could prove she wasn’t the girl in it. Maybe it was just a coincidence that she sounded like this girl.
“At least tell me what the Valory Arch prophecy says. If you’re going to kill me because you think it mentions me, don’t I deserve to know the entire thing?”
Tiberius swished the blue remains of the bottle, appearing torn between drinking, talking, or ending all of this right now. But her theory about the antidote’s side effects must have been correct—it appeared he couldn’t stop himself from spilling secrets. After a moment, he began to recite:
“This arch may only be unlocked with a key that has not yet been forged.
“Conceived in the north, and born in the south, you will know this key, because she will be crowned in rose gold.
“She will be both peasant and princess, a fugitive wrongly accused, and only her willing blood will open the arch.”
Evangeline sagged against her bonds. It was so short. And almost every piece of it fit her. She had heard the line about her being crowned in rose gold and being both peasant and princess from the Fortuna matriarch. It hadn’t been true at the time, but now it was. She was also a fugitive wrongly accused, thanks to whoever had killed Apollo. She didn’t know where she’d been conceived; her parents had always joked that they’d found her in a curiosity crate. Now she wondered if there was a reason why they had concealed the truth—if they had known about this prophecy. Had they seen her rose-gold hair and her origin as a sign that it could be true someday?
But there was one line of the prophecy that she could ensure never came to pass. She just had to convince Tiberius of this. “You just said only my willing blood will open the arch, which means I have to want it open, and I don’t.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Tiberius gave her a bleak look. “Magic things always want to do that which they were created to do.”
“But I’m not a magic thing; I’m just a girl with pink hair!”
“I wish that were true.” His voice was torn. “I don’t want to kill you, Evangeline. But that arch must remain locked. The Valors had too much power. They weren’t evil, but they did things they never should have done.”