“What is it?” I asked, accepting it.
“It is the same potion your mother gave you. It will protect your child in the same way.” She turned and glared at Jameson. “Will you protect your son?”
Jameson’s eyes glistened with tears. “My son?”
“Yes, the girl carries your son. You will have a choice to make, Jameson. One I do not think you are strong enough to make on your own.”
I held the vial in my hand. Jameson wanted to be the Shah of Snowstrum. Our child could hold the key to his dreams, but at what price?
He did not look at me. Instead, he glared at the old woman.
Slowly, I removed the cork from the vial, and Miselda gave me a slight nod of encouragement.
As the liquid touched my lips, Jameson cried. “Stop!” He reached out to me, but it was too late.
I drank every last drop.
“What h
