Chapter Fifty

“No,” Ecaeris looked at me in surprise. “No Daethie, I don’t believe you are meant to die. I didn’t believe that Tarragon was destined for death, either. Do you think so little of us all – the Fae royal family, your own parents – to think that we would send Tarragon, your brothers, yourself, and Aien blithely off to die? No,” she reached out and gripped my shoulder. “If that had been in our thoughts, we would have come on the campaign and done all that we could to protect you all.”

“Oh,” I crumpled, weeping.

“Oh, Daethie,” Ecaeris shook me slightly. “Foolish children,” she tsked.

“You never told Tarragon,” I pointed out. “She has thought all this time that the lamb would die to end the slaughter, but there is no end...”

Ecaeris winced and blew out a breath. “We did not anticipate that she would interpret the prophecy in such a way, and the intention behind keeping that part to ourselves was to keep the population hopeful whilst we trained her to fulfill her role. She never spoke to