“Pay that no mind,” Lord Samriel said, tone gentle and almost kind. His tone had been that way this entire time. Casual, even. “There is nothing you can do for them. Focus on what you can do for yourself and for your friend. What is his name?”
A knot lodged in my chest as I dragged my gaze from the window. “Grady,” I whispered, clearing my throat. “My intuition is just very heightened.”
“And seeing the future?” Lord Samriel asked.
I nodded. “Usually it takes someone asking me a question. I . . . I will need to concentrate on them and sometimes I need to touch them.”
“But you also have premonitions without being asked. Did you not see this coming?”
“I did, but . . .” I swallowed, unnerved as I focused on the hand resting on the arm of the settee. The ring finger on his left hand was missing. Could he not regenerate it? There was no doubt in my mind that Lord Samriel was powerful enough, which meant that keeping from him the fact that I could hear thoughts was not wise, but Hymel hadn’t mentioned it. The others might not know. “But it was vague. I knew there’d be . . . bloodshed but I didn’t know what would cause it.”
“Is it because the events involved you?”
My gaze shot to his as my heart skipped.
His smile deepened as his chin dipped. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“How . . . how did you know that?”
“I knew of someone like you once, with similar gifts. Their future was often hidden to them.” His gaze, like shards of obsidian except for the green ring around the pupil, flickered across my face. “For a time.” His head straightened. “You were an orphan?”
Surprise ripped through me, then understanding. “Hymel?”
Lord Samriel nodded.
Anger built, tasting of ash on my tongue. It was clear that Hymel had been working with these Hyhborn, who likely hailed from the Lowlands. For how long was anyone’s guess. “Hymel . . . he said Prince Rainer would be joining us for the Feasts.”
“He did,” Lord Samriel said. “Or I suppose it would be more accurate to say that he was going to. However, the Prince of Primvera wasn’t in agreement with the King’s wishes.” He paused. “May the gods rest his soul.”
The breath I took went nowhere. “Prince Rainer . . . he’s dead?”
“Unfortunately.”
Oh my gods. I rocked back, toes pressing into the thick rug. “The King . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to say what I suspected.
“What has Prince Thorne told you?” Lord Samriel asked.
I tensed. “About . . . about what?”
“About the King.”
“Nothing much,” I said, and that wasn’t a lie. Not exactly. “All I know is that he was sent here to determine if Archwood was worth defending against the Iron Knights.”
Lord Samriel made a noncommittal sound.
“Was that not true?” I asked, not daring to open my senses to him. Not then.
“Hyhborn cannot lie.” The green circles churned slowly around his pupils. “Prince Thorne is unaware of your abilities, isn’t he? He’s unaware of what you are to him?”
“No, he doesn’t know about my abilities.” My throat tightened. “And I’m nothing to him.”
“That’s not true at all, Calista,” he said, and my skin chilled at the sound of my name. “He may not yet be aware of what you mean to him on a conscious level, but on a primal one? I’m confident he does. He’s drawn to you, whether he understands why or not.”
I jolted, recalling Thorne’s own confusion as he admitted as much. “I . . . I don’t understand.”
“Well, it’s quite simple,” Lord Samriel said. “You are everything to him.”
A shivery wave of awareness swept through me. “Ny . . . ny’chora.”
Lord Samriel’s pale brows lifted. “So, he has spoken to you about something.”
“It was . . . I was asking why his heart didn’t beat.”
Everything about the Lord changed in an instant. The friendly if cold smile slipped from his face. His entire body tensed, and when he spoke, gone was the gentleness. “And what did he say to that?”
My jaw clamped shut with the sudden feeling that I . . . I needed to be careful. It was the faint stirrings of my intuition. “He just said that his heart doesn’t beat because of his ny’chora.”
His lips thinned as they curled slightly on one side. “Did he tell you what the ny’chora was?”