Had she finally severed the last connection between herself and her cousin?
Gerard’s face and words flashed into her mind. He’d seen a vision of Nora’s death. He tried to tell Elea about it, but she’d been too busy discarding him. Trying to get him to leave before he hurt her image with the people. She had doubted him. How could one as strong as Nora be killed?
Tears streamed down her face and her body was racked with sobs. She would not be able to repay her debts to Nora. She would never get to tell her that she was sorry for how horrible she’d been to her. For hating Nora for loving Matteo. She understood now that love was not something you could control. That you couldn’t make yourself love the right person or stop loving the wrong one. She had used her powers on Gerard to use him. To make a puppet of him, then to discard him, like Matteo had her for Nora.
Still, Nora had willingly traded her life for Elea’s.
Her death.
Shame filled the space that should have been Elea’s heart. The darkness that was her second skin was back. Elea had failed her cousin, and without Nora, she could not fulfill the prophecy. There would be no one to represent the strength of Orla in the trigon. The prophecy could not be fulfilled because of Elea’s pettiness. She had never missed an opportunity to criticize her cousin. To exclude her from balls and parties. To make her feel as unwanted as Elea always had felt by her own father. Her grandfather. And King Matteo.
Elea had failed her cousin.
She had failed her goddess.
The sound of footsteps brought her back to the present. She closed her eyes and pulled her knees in with her hand, preparing to be taken. The door to the cell swung open with a creak. She heard the footfalls move closer to her and then the cell door swung close. Elea’s head snapped up and her eyes opened.
Her grandmother stood before her. Her white hair was braided around her head like a coronet. It made her look like the queen she was.
For a moment, Elea thought she was saved. But then she saw that her grandmother’s dress was dirty and torn. New lines surrounded her mouth and forehead. Her green eyes were full of concern. She was also a prisoner.
“What happened? How are you here?”
Grandmother stooped down near her and brushed her bloody hair over her shoulder. “Elea, none of that matters. Where is Nora?”
A sob broke from Elea’s bruised face. “She’s dead and it’s all my fault. Everyone who helped me is dead; all the villagers, all the children, and it’s all because of me.”
Her grandmother gently wrapped her arms around Elea’s shoulders. As if she didn’t know that her granddaughter was hurt everywhere.
“It’s not your fault, love. Don’t let Laird Lochdon fool you. Those people were killed by his orders. Not yours.”
More sobs racked her body, and for several minutes, Elea could not speak. Her grandmother said nothing and stroked her hair. Over and over. She accepted the comfort, even though she did not deserve it.
“I have failed you,” Elea said with a sniff, her body trembling with emotion. “I have failed Màthair. I could not do it. I could not save our people. And I did not try to save Nora.”
“Everyone makes mistakes,” Grandmother said, dropping a kiss on top of Elea’s head. “Me more than anyone. I married my daughter to a monster to prevent a coup that happened over twenty years later. . . . No matter how hard I tried, I could not change the future. But after my daughter’s early death, I learned it is better to prepare for it than to try to alter it. We must escape, my dearest one. You still have a purpose to fulfill.”
Elea looked up at her grandmother through burning eyes. “How?! We are locked in a dungeon, and no one is coming to save us.”
Not Nora.
She was dead.
Not Gerard.
She’d used him cruelly and sent him away.
Not her people.
The ones who had been loyal to her now lay dead in the courtyard, their bodies being desecrated. The rest of them had not come in her greatest need. They had cowered in their houses in fear. Did they not know that her uncle would kill them either way? They had harbored her in their town. They had taken the food and the goods from the castle. Laird Lochdon would make an example of them to other towns. To other serfs who thought they could be free.
Her grandmother smiled down at her. “I’ve always preferred to save myself.”
She stood up and offered both hands to her granddaughter. Elea managed to come to a standing position, although she was still stooped over in pain. She stumbled to the side. Elea could barely walk. How was she supposed to break out of a metal cell?
Once Elea was steady, her grandmother let go of her hands. Her eyes scanned the rest of the dungeon, as if to make sure that they were alone. They were. But Elea was pretty sure that the guards would be back for them soon.
Grandmother walked to the corner of the cell and pushed the dirty straw to the side. There was a vent that smelled of urine and waste. No doubt it led to the sewer underneath the castle. The sewer that led to the ocean.