Page 10 of The Half King
“We’re twins. I’m the oldest by three minutes.” Daerick gave a dry laugh. “Lucky me. I inherited the threat of impending delirium, and he inherited the magic. Can you believe in common families it’s the oldest child that has the advantage?”
Yes, she could believe it. Only noble families bore a curse.
“I envy the commoners. They have more freedom than they realize.” Daerick covered her hand with his own. “I hope to share that freedom. You can’t imagine how excited I was when I heard the rumors about you.”
“What rumors?” she asked.
“That you’re destined to break the noble curses.”
She stopped and gaped at him, nearly tripping on her own shoes.“What?”
“You’re destined to break the noble curses,” he repeated. “Aren’t you?”
Oh, goddess. That explained the crowd at the gates. “Who told you that?”
Daerick turned his gaze to the ceiling as if to recall a memory. “I heard it from the groundskeeper, who heard it from his wife, who heard it from a stable hand. I think he heard it from someone in the kitchens, and I believe they heard it from a man making a cider delivery to the temple, and after that, I don’t know where the story goes.”
Cerise suppressed yet another surge of panic. She knew that gossip ran rampant at court, but she never imagined she could be the subject of it before her own arrival. How had anyone gotten such a twisted version of the truth—oranyversion of the truth? The revelation was supposed to be a secret. And besides, she was completely ordinary. The goddess hadn’t even gifted her with the Sight. This rumor was a problem, a big one, because it spread false hope. How many firstborn nobles would be crushed to learn that she hadn’t come there to perform a miracle? And what about the king? Did he believe it, too?
Oh, stars, she hoped not. His expectations of her would be impossible.
“Is that why people think I’m here?” she asked.
Daerick lowered one brow. “Isn’t it? Everyone knows you’re gifted. Why else would the Reverend Mother send a nineteen-year-old girl to replace the old emissary?”
Gifted. The word hit like a punch to the chest.
Daerick was right: an emissary was supposed to be gifted, a person who’d earned the role through decades of experience, not a novice with no talents apart from rescuing rabbit kits and confounding Seers. So when the people of Mortara had learned that the new emissary was nineteen, of course they’d assumed she was remarkable. She should have expected as much, but ironically, she wasn’t even gifted enough to See the most predictable path in front of her.
She would need to let Daerick down easily.
“Lord Calatris,” she began.
“Please call me Daerick.”
“Daerick,” she said. “I don’t understand my purpose here, because the Reverend Mother couldn’t fully See it. But I do know the rumor you heard about me is wrong.” Her stomach sank along with Daerick’s expression, but she refused to lie to him. Nothing was crueler than a false promise. “I believe in Shiera’s mercy, and I believe the goddess is ready to forgive the world of men. But I don’t know what that looks like. I don’t even have the Sight.”
“You’re not twenty yet,” he said. “When is your Claiming Day?”
“In three moons.”
“Then there’s still time.”
She heaved a sigh. She was tired of hearing that. “When is yours?”
“Five and a half moons, shortly before the king’s birthday.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Did the Reverend Mother specifically say that youcouldn’tbreak the curses?”
“Well…no,” she admitted. She had somehow clouded the revelation and stopped the Reverend Mother from Seeing whose role that was. “Not in so many words, but I’m sure that’s not why I’m here.”
“Did she tell you how the old emissary died?” he asked.
Cerise shook her head. “I assumed it was from old age.”
“Oh, she was ancient, no doubt about it. But time didn’t kill her.”
“Then what did?”
“Shedid.”
