THE MORNING OF the spring equinox, the nineteen-year-old soothsayer was awoken by frantic pounding on her cottage's front door. The knocking was loud and incessant, demanding her immediate attention. She jolted violently out of her slumber—she had been on edge ever since the previous evening, when she'd recited the prophecy about the king.

       It was clearly late morning due to the amount of natural light that trickled in through the windows. The home was no longer in the dark, as it had been the night before. It was small, with sufficient space between the dinner table and the bed, but no walls separating the two. There were ornate teacups stacked on a windowsill, a bookshelf that was overflowing with books and a fireplace that contained charred wood. The floor was made of stone.

       To the left of the front door was the table, where Maarit practiced her soothsaying. The candles and the book both remained untouched, but she had dumped the nutmeg water in front of the house before going to bed.

       The knocking was growing louder and Maarit realized that there was more than one person knocking. With a sudden alertness, her heart pounding in her chest, she rose from her bed and ran to the front door, her dressing gown whipping at her ankles. Her feet were bare and the cold stone of the floor made goosebumps appear on her legs.

       Maarit reached the door and flung it open, nearly making one of the two people at the door—who had clearly been leaning on it—fall into her.

       Standing at the door were two of her friends, the Valence brothers.

       Keion and Helios were two of the only people that were aware of the fact that Maarit was a soothsayer. Keion was three years older than Maarit, whereas Helios was five months younger than her. The two brothers were the same height and had the same attractive face structure. They looked relatively alike, with the exception of their hair and eye colour. Keion had light blue eyes and darker hair; Helios had brown eyes and honey-coloured hair.

       Keion happened to be the one who nearly fell over when she opened the door—however, he straightened himself immediately at the sight of the young woman in her dressing gown. He tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear, sighing heavily.

       "What are you two doing here?" she demanded forcefully, her eyes wide and accusing. "I was asleep and you scared the living daylights out of me! Why were you banging on my door? And what is so urgent?"

       Her eyes took in the sight of the brothers, both of whom appeared completely dishevelled and distressed. Keion's hair stuck out messily and Helios was breathing hard, as though they had been running. The expressions on their faces were somber, unlike they usually were. Upon realizing that something was not right, Maarit's eyes softened and her face fell.

       "Has something happened?" she asked, this time in a much gentler manner. Fear flared up in her chest and she involuntarily glanced sideways at her book of prophecies. A pit settled to the bottom of her stomach.

       She knew exactly what was wrong before they even told her.

       "Maarit," Helios panted breathlessly, a grave expression gracing his face. "King Tevenot... poisoned... dead."

       The weight of the sentence—even though it was a broken one—made an indent in the air. The death of the king was always an incredibly big deal among the citizens of Bonvalet. When a monarch died, the entire country—after spreading the news as quickly as possible—would mourn. But this was different. Maarit knew from the prophecy that King Tevenot had not died of old age or natural causes. The most crucial part of the whole ordeal was that he had been murdered.

       Maarit's lips parted in shock. Knowing what would happen had not made hearing the words aloud any less startling. She stared wordlessly at the brothers, searching for signs of tangible truth upon their faces—she found them in the creases between their eyebrows, the pursing of their lips and the way the corners of their mouths were pulled downwards into a frown.

       "Oh my," she finally said, her eyes downcast, her hands clenched together in front of her. She began speaking more to herself than to either of the two men. "I was right. I knew this would happen. Today is the spring equinox, and dawn has already passed; it was supposed to happen today."

       Keion frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "What do you mean?" he questioned carefully, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

       Maarit gritted her teeth. "I had a vision last night," she admitted hesitantly to the two.

       "Of what?" Helios said inquisitively, prying for details.

       While his brother was slumped carelessly against the doorframe, Helios was visibly much more anxious. He straightened his posture, looking around as though to make sure none of the neighbours would overhear their conversation.

       "Of this—this entire situation. Of the king dying, or... actually, it was of him being murdered by someone," Maarit specified, chewing on her bottom lip. "How much does everyone know? Have they executed the sinless servant yet?"

       "No one has been executed," Helios replied worriedly, biting the inside of his cheek. "So it isn't a servant who killed him? Who was it, then?"

       But Maarit didn't reply yet; instead, she allowed the silence to reign. She stared introspectively past their heads into the distance, mentally reciting the prophecy. It was all coming together in her head.

       The sky was a deep blue and there was not a single cloud in sight. The effulgent sun was more brilliant than ever. It was ironic for the weather to be so beautiful when such horrible events had just occurred atop the mountain.

       "Are you going to invite us in?" Keion asked dubiously after a pregnant pause.

       The young woman was shaken from her reverie. She shook her head, as though to clear the thoughts from her mind. "Right. Get in here, now," she told them brashly and rudely, stepping to the side to allow them to walk through the doorway.

       "Such a courteous woman you are," Keion tutted, giving her a playful, halfhearted smile.

       She shut the door behind them and strode over to the table where the prophecy was scrawled. The book was open to that very page, staring tauntingly back at her. Maarit ran her fingers over the words, her frown deepening. Then, she picked up the weighty tome and walked over to where Keion and Helios stood, offering it to them.

       "Read this," she told them. "It's the prophecy that I recited last night."

       Helios grabbed it, his eyes scanning the page frantically. Keion read it over his younger brother's shoulder.

       "Do you understand what the prophecy is saying?" Maarit asked. Then, answering her own rhetorical question, she continued. "That Prince Theodoracius killed his father, but a servant is blamed and executed for his crime. Theodoracius is the Infernal Prince that this prophecy refers to—and it is said that he will rule over Bonvalet and bring us all immense doom."

       "All the blame falls on a servant," Keion stated under his breath. "How typical. Meanwhile, the devil incarnate will be king and no one will be able to stop it."

       "Does this mean," Maarit began slowly, mulling everything over in her head as she spoke, "that Prince Theodoracius, the troubled son, the murderer, is going to become king?"

       "Not quite," said Helios, grimacing. "He isn't going to become king... he already is."

       Maarit gave him a questioning glance, but Keion interjected.

       "My baby brother has been reading up on Bonvalet's monarchy system," he said, raising his eyebrows.

       Helios blushed profusely, his cheeks suddenly becoming tinged with pink.

"When it comes to heredity," he explained timidly, "the eldest male in line becomes the next monarch following the death of the previous. There's no requirement for a coronation. Therefore, the throne is never vacant—not even for a split second. As soon as King Tevenot took his final breath, the throne went directly to Prince Theodoracius. I suppose we should get used to referring to him as the king now."

       "No," Keion contradicted gruffly. "I will never call him a king. I cannot accept the fact that someone as horrible as he is will rule over the country. He is nothing but a cold-blooded killer. He should be assassinated, and I wouldn't be surprised if he is today, on his very first day as king—"

       "Keion Valence, don't you dare!" Maarit scolded ferociously. Her dark eyes flashed dangerously—even in nothing but a dressing gown, with tangled hair from having just woken up, Maarit Pheraios was intimidating. "Without even a sliver of hesitation, they would behead you for doing such a thing."

       She knew that Keion's noble nature was his most prominent trait. It was, perhaps, his greatest quality as well as his most fatal flaw. His nobility, courage and righteousness very often allowed him to disregard all else—especially reason. He was impulsive; quite the opposite of his reserved, taciturn brother.

       "I'm not referring to myself," he assured her. "However, it is undeniable that he will not be accepted by the villagers with open arms. King Tevenot was adored and he constantly spoke badly of his son. There are riots beginning at this very moment in protest of Theodoracius being our new monarch, and I do not plan on missing out on them."