Chapter 112: The Next Adventure

Maeve

It was 7:00 in the morning, and the pale sunlight coming through the windows of the informal dining room off the kitchen was doing nothing to help illuminate the room.

Thad woken to Troy readying the boys for the day. He was trying not to wake me, but my sleep had been so shallow I had only been lingering on the edge of true sleep for several hours at that point. He was taking the boys to Ingra so I could rest, for which I was thankful, but the hour between 6:00 and 7:00 proved to be restless and lonely.

I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep. Gemma was seated across from me at the round table, stirring sugar into her coffee. Ernest was using his finger to swipe a taste of oatmeal against George’s tongue, and to his left sat Rowan, and then Troy, who was talking in a low whisper over the sound of coffee being sipped and silverware scraping against bowls of oatmeal with honey and cream.

Hanna was seated next to me, close enough that her shoulder brushed against mine as she reached for what would be her third bowl of oatmeal. She had color in her cheeks, and her hair was pulled away from her face in a tight ponytail. She looked rested, compared to the rest of us.

It was obvious no one wanted to talk about what had happened. But a stale silence lingered over the table. I slouched, looking down into my untouched breakfast, and

wondered what the hell was going to happen next.

“If… theoretically, that is, you could shift into anything… not just a wolf,” Gemma began, her voice breaking through the blanket of awkward silence, “what would you be?”

“Like an animal, or… object?” Ernest replied, momentarily taking his full attention from George, a spoon covered in oatmeal just inches from the baby’s face. George grabbed the spoon with his chubby fists and brought it to his mouth, giving me a huge, oatmeal-covered grin as I met his eye. I couldn’t help but smile at how pleased he was with himself.

“An object?” Rowan eyed Ernest with suspicion, “Like what? A toaster?”

“You could make everyone a nice snack after battle-” Ernest quipped, which elicited a hearty laugh from Troy.

“Well, I think I’d be an eagle or an owl, for example. I’ve always liked owls,” Gemma said curtly, annoyed that the men were ruining her game.

“I’d still be a wolf,” Rowan interjected, looking slightly peeved.

“Well, that’s no fun, Rowan. You wouldn’t want to be something like a bear or a mountain lion?” Gemma brought her coffee to her lips, arching her brow at him.

“Who would win in a fight? That is the question. A wolf or a mountain lion?” Ernest was fighting to wipe oatmeal from George’s face.

“Oh, a lion, for sure,” Hanna quipped, but the sound of her voice sent a hush over the table. None of us had heard her

speak since what happened in the caves.

An awkward few seconds passed, and I felt heat prickling against my cheeks. Why could no one talk about what happened? Even the “family meeting” led by Dad the night before had been silent, awkward. Everyone was too tired or too stunned to add anything to the conversation.

“I’d be a beaver,” Troy said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. Rowan looked shocked. 1

“A beaver? Why on earth-”

“Because I’ve had too dam… much of this conversation this morning.”

Everyone looked at him. Troy’s eyes were shining with mirth as he waited for the group to catch on to his silly joke. Ernest sputtered with laughter, and Gemma rolled her eyes. It took Rowan a moment too long to realize Troy’s ridiculous play on words, and the group immediately turned on him, saying he was the toaster of the group now.

| settled back against my chair, holding my mug of coffee in my hands as I watched the conversation take on a new air of ease. I caught Troy’s eye and smiled softly at him, hoping he caught the silent look of gratitude in my eyes.

me. After several minutes, Hanna leaned into me, whispering

need to talk,” she whispered.

Yes, yes we did.

in a wide circle, holding him against my shoulder. The other boys were sleeping upstairs with Troy, who had retired from

down to meet up

as we walked around the atrium. He hadn’t yet gotten the hang of his hands, but occasionally reached out to place a shaky fist on a monstera

was also walking around, no doubt gathering her thoughts. When we finally met in the center of the atrium, 1 placed Oli in her hands, watching as she instinctively gathered him to her chest. He cooed, snuggling close against the soft fabric of the sweater she was

I think… I believe I could be pregnant,” Hanna whispered, her eyes downcast to the sleeping baby in her arms. I swallowed, nodding as I took

could get you a

her head, a whisper of a smile touching the corner of her mouth as she looked down

“No, it’s early still.”

you think that you are?

Tasia said?”

daughter. I have every reason to believe that what the old woman from Lycenna, my great aunt, said is true… about the prophecy, about what this child will become. I just don’t know what that will look like, exactly. I’m scared, Maeve. She… when I saw her in my dream, when I

had been dreaming about for years, standing on the shore just outside of its

had seen Rowan, but he was much

to show me the band of jade on her ring finger, “on his pinky. I didn’t have it yet, when I had the dream. But now…” She sat down on the couch

| asked, an uneasy

don’t know how, or why. But when I saw them… when I saw our daughter inside the temple, she was crying. It was a funeral. Oliver was there, but I didn’t know it at the time. He hadn’t been born yet in reality. But his

sick to my stomach as I

“No, I haven’t.”

face expressionless, blank, as though she had already accepted this

in both visions. Long, straight white hair. Silver eyes flaked with the same color blue Rowan and I shared and lined with white lashes. When I asked her if she thought the

You hadn’t yet become the White Queen, Maeve, and you mentioned the boys were nearing twenty-one. I truly believe Rosalie will grow into old age, and you as well. This girl, my daughter… she is what the old

of it but couldn’t shake the nagging

she know

She told me I had to fight, and I comforted her. I knew her name, Maeve, and she said she had never heard it said out loud before. She told me to remember

was

want her to grow up, be a child, play, and run, and laugh and not be burdened by the circumstances of her

chance would die. But she hadn’t been born yet, so I thought I couldn’ t die then, and then there was that shred of hope I held, that l’

I cried as well, my stomach in knots. Hanna had saved us all. We were free of the turmoil of the last

“We’ll love her, Hanna-”

she will be loved. But how am – she’ll be like me, Maeve. And so, so much more. What am I supposed

do?”

She rocked Oli gently,

Hanna’s comfort I should steer the conversation away from her theoretical daughter, despite the selfishness

the baby, sighing deeply. “A king. I think they’ll all

can’t… I don’ t want any more

consider it. But your child will be my

King of the East, Hanna. She’ll be a princess. She’ll be the grandchild of Queen Rosalie, and King

knows what her future will hold. But just

at me, tears

I’m gone? Both

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