I jumped a little, startled by the question no one had yet bothered to ask. But now that it had been put to me, it seemed the most obvious question of all.
What had led me to Doon? Had I manipulated Kenna to the bridge, knowing she would force me to cross? Or had I done it to help my best friend find what her aunt had so desperately wanted for her? Or had my own personal mission to find the boy who’d haunted my days and nights influenced my every action? I was pretty sure I knew the answer. I glanced up at the patiently waiting king.
“I … began having visions shortly before I came to Scotland. When I first put on the Ring of Aontacht and heard the legend of Doon, I felt in my spirit it was all true. Gracie Lockhart believed Kenna had a reason to come here, but Ken had a hard time believing it and well, I …” I hesitated, not sure what I wanted to say.
The king nodded in encouragement.
“I knew the kingdom existed, and that no matter what it took I had to find it.”
“Because of the dreams ye were having?”
“They weren’t dreams exactly, since I was awake, but in any case … it seems I misinterpreted them.”
The king sputtered as coughs began to rack his frail body. I scrambled to the pitcher I’d seen sitting on a nearby table. Returning with a glass of water, I helped the king sit up straighter and held the glass to his lips. After a moment, his hands were steady enough to hold the cup on his own.
“Sir, should I get Fergus?”
He waved his hand and shook his head dismissively. “Sit, lass. I’m fine now.”
I perched on the edge of the chair, wondering if I should cut the audience short. The conversation was clearly taking its toll, but my heart urged me to continue on the chance it could shed some light on Jamie’s behavior.
“Could ye indulge an auld man and tell me what ye had visions of before coming here?”
My shoulders slumped. The moment of truth had come. I didn’t want to give him false hope, considering the strong implications of the Calling in Doon’s culture. But I couldn’t lie to this honorable man, the king of Doon, and, most importantly, Jamie’s father.
“It was your son … Jamie.” Inexplicably, tears filled my eyes.
“Ahh, yes. ’Tis as I suspected then.” There was a gentle smile on his face, and as his dark eyes crinkled at the edges I could see why this man held a special place in the hearts of everyone in the kingdom. He reached out his hand for mine. I held his large, bony fingers, wondering what I’d just done.
“I’m sorry.” I wiped the tears from my eyes and stiffened my spine in determination. “I had no right.”
The king looked directly into my eyes, a shrewd expression on his face. “No right ta what?”
“No right to fall in love with your son.” Having said it—actually admitting it for the first time—a breath whooshed out from deep within my chest.
“Veronica, ye are here fer a reason. Our Protector does no’ make mistakes.” Coughs began to shake his body once more. I refilled his empty glass, and then helped him hold it as he took short sips between ragged breaths. When he spoke again, his voice sounded strained. “But there is something in your way …” His eyes watered in his effort to continue. “Someone.”
The king’s face turned crimson as he valiantly fought for breath. “You alone can save the kingdom.” He began coughing again. “When the time comes, ye must be willing ta sacrifice … for Jamie’s sake.”
“Sir, I don’t understand.” Someone? Was he talking about Sofia? Did he mean I should sacrifice my feelings so Jamie could be with Sofia? And how could I save the kingdom?
He swallowed, seeming to struggle for breath.
“I’m going to get Fergus.” I started to rise.
He shook his head, “Nay,” he croaked. “I need ta tell ye …”
“Yes, sir, I’m listening.” I leaned in close.