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“Those would be the forks where a person of pivotal importance chooses a path.”

While it sounded pompous to ask, Avera still blurted, “Am I a person of pivotal importance?”

“Oh, yes. It is you who will decide the fate of the world.”

An ominous thing to claim. Avera blinked. “I’m afraid the world is in trouble then, since I currently have no power. My throne was stolen from me by the man who murdered my mother and siblings.”

“Which I predicted.” Opal came to the table bearing a pot and she set it down beside the two cups.

“You knew someone would kill my family?” Avera exclaimed.

“Yes. So did your mother, although she did her best to avert it.”

The news rocked Avera. “She was aware it would happen?”

“I told her the last time she visited that the choices she had made, despite my warning, set her on a road that inevitably led to her violent death.”

“If you knew Benoit would kill her, then why not warn her so she’d know not to marry him?” It emerged as an accusation.

“Because that’s not how seeing the future works. I don’t see individual events, more like impactful results. At our last visit, I told her she’d bear a girl child who would be very important. One that would need to be protected.”

“Me.” Suddenly weak knees had Avera plopping into a chair.

“Yes, you.” Opal poured the tea and held out the cup to Avera who took it with trembling fingers. She set it down rather than drink.

“Were you the reason my mother all but ignored me?” The queen had said she’d distanced herself to ensure no one knew she favored Avera. Could Opal’s vision be why?

“In a sense. My visions showed that if she chose to lavish you with love, you would die before your tenth summer.”

“Because of my brother.”

“I couldn’t see who ended your life, only that jealousy would bring about your death.”

“You’re the reason why I’ve spent my life more or less alone,” Avera whispered.

“To keep you alive and prepare you for what’s to come you needed to be strong. Independent.”

“What about loved?” Avera countered harshly.

“Your mother loved you.”

“She never told me, not until she lay dying.” Avera couldn’t help the bitter twist to her words.

“Should you succeed in the quest you’re upon, you will find happiness.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You’ll be dead, so it won’t matter.” A blunt reply.

“What quest? I never agreed to any task.”

“Are you not the queen of Daerva?”

“Not according to Benoit,” Avera muttered. “I was never crowned.”

“That’s just a ceremony. Meaningless words, and a spectacle for the masses. You are Daerva’s queen.”

“A queen without a throne. Benoit has painted me as a traitor.”