Fifty-Two:
Lancelot Larkin
I’d never wanted George to know this part of me. I’d gone to great lengths for people to not know that I had magical blood in me. It had been drilled in me since I was a young child. My father told everyone that it was his ‘gut’ that made him so skilled at battle. Myself and the King were the only ones that knew the truth.
At night, my father was plagued with visions. Visions of the future.
I didn’t have my first vision until I was twelve. I remembered it well. It had happened when Ashden was thirteen, shortly after Haven had been made Ashden’s guard. I woke in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, panting heavily.
I’d seen an image of an older, more mature Ashden kissing Haven. She’d been wearing a white wedding dress. I got up in the middle of the
