Lily
I start sweating when the old man does not respond.
“Answer me,” I command, right before my stomach twist, threatening to expel what I ate earlier. I swallow my bile-tasting saliva, forcing back the contents.
“Stress is not good for the prince, Your Highness.”
I ignore that. He is trying to deter me. Why would he do that if it was good news?
“As your queen, I command you to tell me what will happen to Vincent and Alfred,”
“Somethings are better left unforetold, Your Highness,” he repeats his sentiment, but I must know or I will go crazy.
“I want to know. Tell me,” I demand and he lets out a sigh.
“The princes will be fine. You will have all that you desire.”
I should be happy, but somehow, that does not sound like the end of his prophecy.
“But?” I ask.
“Tears of sorrow w
