“I’ll take care of that,” Catherine replied with a nod.
How? “You just want me to pretend?”
“Precisely,” the queen regent answered back as she laid three necklaces on the vanity, eyeing them with a tilt of her head. The woman had clearly missed her sarcasm.
In her state of total astonishment, Norah almost laughed. “How? I literally know nothing—no people, no history. I barely remember the name of this place, and nothing of myself! You have to give me more here. I—I need to know my story, what’s happened… just… something.” Anything.
Catherine stopped. “And that’s why I’ve come early.” She took Norah’s hand and led her to the settee, sitting them both down. “Listen to me. All of this will be very sudden for you. But we don’t have much time, so you’ll have to learn as quickly as possible.”
Norah nodded. She could learn quickly. Hopefully. Her eyes caught sight of the plate Rebecca had brought in with cheeses and fruit. She’d kill for the pear looking back at her, but she forced her attention back on her grandmother.
Catherine drew in another breath, as if organizing her thoughts on where to start. Perhaps she did have time to get the pear.
“We are at war, Norah.”
And Norah stopped.
Are.
Alexander had said were.
“We’ve been at war with the Shadowlands for ten years. The Great War, it’s called. And we’ve been waiting for you to return, to end it.”
Norah blinked. She hadn’t heard correctly. “I’m sorry, what?”
Catherine folded her hands together. “You’ll unite the kingdoms against the Shadowlands, and you’ll end it. For good.”
“Um… I didn’t quite expect you to start with that. Um…” She stood. A war. She’d been anxious about the expectations of her before, but a war raised the stakes, and her pulse. She rounded the small table where Rebecca had set the plate, and she grabbed the pear. Not to eat—she wasn’t hungry anymore with her mind on war—but she wanted to have something to hold in her hand, something to fiddle with, to calm her.
War.
She flexed her nails against the pear, but not hard enough to break its skin.
War.
Then she took a bite.
Catherine watched her, giving her a moment.
So… war. It would have been nice to start first with her mother and father, but she supposed they could start with the war. She swallowed the bite of pear. “Why are we at war?”
“This is not a short story.”
“You said you came early.”
Catherine sighed. “Mercia’s been a longtime ally and friend of the Aleon Empire,” she explained. “Aleon used to consist of six kingdoms ruled by the High King Horath. However, ten years ago, as Horath lay on his deathbed, he split the kingdoms of the empire between his three sons: Gregor, Phillip, and Aston.”
Six kingdoms sounded like too much for any one man, anyway. And all this seemed perfectly reasonable, unless Norah was expected to remember all these names. She took another bite of her pear.
“But,” Catherine continued, “Gregor, the eldest, although given the richest of the kingdoms, Japheth, felt robbed of his birthright. He killed his youngest brother, taking the second kingdom of Hetahl as well. He needed—and still needs—the remaining four kingdoms of Aleon from Phillip to restore the full empire. When he tried to take them, your father stood as Phillip’s ally. This was the start of the Great War.”
Norah struggled to swallow the pear as a sudden lump rose in her throat. That anyone could kill their family for power was a monstrous thing. Inhuman.
Rebecca whisked back into the room with a wine decanter and two chalices. Norah hadn’t realized she’d even gone anywhere. The maid left them on the small side table beside the settee before seeing herself out of the room again.
Wine with breakfast… odd. Norah set her attention back to the conversation. “So, what do Aleon and Japheth, this war between Phillip and Gregor, have to do with the Shadowlands? And Mercia, and me?”
“Aleon and Mercia stood together, and so Gregor needed an ally,” Catherine explained. “He joined together with the Shadowlands.”
“So, it’s Mercia and Aleon against Japheth and the Shadowlands?”
Catherine nodded. “Exactly. But Phillip will manage his brother Gregor. You must focus on the Shadowlands. The Shadow King is a greater evil, and he’ll do everything in his power to see you dead.”
Her stomach twisted. “Why?” It was a little extreme, to want someone dead.
“The visions have shown it. You’ll take the Shadow throne, purging his darkness from this world.”
Norah pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, not knowing what to make of her grandmother’s words. She didn’t want anyone’s throne. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted her own. “You sound so certain of this.”
“I am. It was a powerful vision, Norah—seen by seers across the kingdoms. The Shadow King joined with Japheth soon after, with a vengeance. He’ll stop at nothing to change his fate, and he almost did. Many times he’s attacked, and many times your father drove him back, but three years ago, another vision came—a vision of your capture, and of the Shadowmen breaching our defenses, flooding into Mercia, and killing the council. That’s when your father took you away, to keep you safe.”
A chill ran down her spine, and Norah sat back on the settee beside her grandmother again. “But… they didn’t end up breaching Mercia.”
“Pay attention, child,” Catherine said shortly.
Norah frowned. She was paying attention.
“It was a vision. It hadn’t yet happened. But your father refused to take chances, and by taking you away, he changed your fate.”
But that only raised more questions: Where had her father taken her? What place would have been safe if Mercia wasn’t? And how had she lost her memories?
Catherine took her hand. “And while your father was successful in driving the Shadow King back deep into his hell, he still lives. It’s why you must keep your course, Norah. You mustn’t take chances either. You’ll become queen and wed King Phillip of Aleon as planned, to keep the alliance strong.”
Norah’s heart stopped, and her head jerked up at her grandmother’s words. Her nails pierced the skin of the remaining pear in her hand. “Wed? As in, marriage?”
Catherine pursed her lips. “That’s what wed means, yes.”
She knew what wed meant, but it couldn’t mean that for her. “I can’t be married.” She didn’t even know herself, much less know someone else enough to marry them. She struggled for words in the chaos overwhelming her mind. “I’ve never even met this Phillip. I don’t love him. What if I don’t even like him?”
“You have met him. Many times. And you do like him. But whether you like him doesn’t matter. What matters is the future of Mercia and the strength of our kingdom. Only with Phillip can you defeat the Shadow King.” Catherine paused. Then she said, “There are other things of which you must be aware. Mercia is in a dire position. We’re still early into winter, and we’ve not enough food to sustain our people. Aleon sends provisions in goodwill, as they have for the past three years, but it won’t be enough, and it won’t continue without a marriage.”