"What prophecy are you talking about?" Aurelia asked, her voice no longer soft with curiosity, but sharpened by unease. There was something in Aldric's tone—something measured and deliberate—that made her instincts stir.
Aldric did not answer immediately.
Instead, he leaned back slightly into the sofa, exhaling as though the weight of what he was about to say was not something easily carried.
"It is a prophecy made by the Oracle of the Aether Throne," he began slowly, his gaze steady on her. "One that has existed for centuries, long before either of us was born. It speaks of a child—one promised, one chosen—blessed by all five gods."
Aurelia's brows furrowed faintly, but she did not interrupt.
