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The carriage was silent as we were drawing close to the castle walls when the first wave of an unrelenting chill coursed through me, intertwining with my essence and tugging at the waves. And only when it intensified did I snap up from Becca's lap, finally realizing it was coming from Fashire.

Becca flinched, and May and Saffire tore their eyes from the windows to meet mine, disturbed.

"Is something…?" Saffire started.

I didn't answer at first. But the frigid sensation reminded me of the Fashire I had first met. He was angry, so angry that he felt dead inside, much similar to when he had come back from killing the King.

I shuddered, not liking this. It could only mean he was out to get rid of someone. Why would he do that when he's about to take the throne?! There would be nobles against—