Chapter 46: A Love Foretold
**Thelma Zane’s POV**
Dorothy and I exchanged a warm smile, a brief respite from the tension that had settled between us. But just as quickly, her expression turned serious, and she spoke words that sent a chill through my heart.
“My prophecy is about your love with Sir Aldrich,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her revelation. “Unfortunately, the path ahead of you is one filled with poison and thorns. Your love will be fraught with challenges and could even lead to your death.”
“What?” The word escaped my lips in a disbelieving gasp.
The notion of a love so sweet turning fatal was almost impossible to comprehend. Dorothy wasn’t one to exaggerate or mislead; a witch’s prophecy had never been wrong. Still, I struggled to accept her words. The idea that something as beautiful as my relationship with Aldrich could lead to such tragedy felt absurd.
“That can’t be true…” I murmured, clutching at my hair as though trying to root myself in reality. “Even if the world disapproves, even if we face obstacles, how could our love lead to death? It doesn’t make sense.”
Dorothy’s eyes filled with sympathy, but she offered no comfort beyond her presence.
Her words echoed in my mind, unearthing fears I hadn’t dared to face. Aldrich and I hadn’t been together long, but I had already envisioned countless futures for us–futures brimming with joy, laughter, and unwavering devotion. How could those dreams be reduced to a prophecy of thorns and death?
Without realizing it, tears began to stream down my face.
Dorothy, flustered, reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. She dabbed at my ars, her voice soft yet firm. “Please don’t cry, Thelma. A prophecy is not set in stone. The future can change, often with the smallest decision. Nothing is absolute.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My vision blurred with tears, and I could hardly see her face. “Don’t say that just to comfort me, Dorothy. You don’t know how much Aldrich means to me.”
If someone had told my younger, rebellious self that I would one day cry over a man, I would have laughed and dismissed the idea as absurd. Yet here I was, my heart aching at the thought of losing Aldrich. He had been my anchor, the light that guided me through my darkest days. How could I not cherish someone who had brought me such profound happiness?
In the privacy of my thoughts, I prayed silently, *If the day comes when one of us must fall, let it be me. Let the Moon Goddess take me first.”
Once my tears subisttled, Dorothy continued, her tone more composed. “Throughout history, prophecies have often seemed inevitable, but that’s because people unconsciously force themselves to follow the path they’ve been told about. A prophecy isn’t a decree; it’s a reflection of the current state of things and the most probable future based on those circumstances.
She paused, her brows furrowing. “The tragedy saw doesn’t stem from you or Sir Aldrich directly. It’s connected to a dark force, shrouded in a fog’I cannot penetrate. Whoever is responsible has used some method to conceal themselves from my vision.”
Her explanation brought a measure of relief, though guilt quickly followed. I had allowed myself to spiral into despair without seeking the full truth. Was this how a future queen behaved? Swayed by emotion, crying over uncertainties, and failing to grasp the bigger picture?
The heat of embarrassment crept into my cheeks, and Dorothy seemed to notice. She offered. an awkward smile, attempting to console me. “It’s alright. When a prophecy manifests, our emotions often become heightened. I’ve been feeling unusually tense myself. If I had recognized the signs earlier, I might have been able to prevent the chaos at the academy.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I can’t help but feel responsible for everything that happened.”
“How can you think that?” I protested. “You’re not to blame for your heritage or for being born with mixed blood. None of this is your fault, Dorothy. If anything, I think it’s remarkable. The love between a werewolf and a wizard is extraordinary, even poetic.”
“Please, don’t romanticize it,” Dorothy muttered, clearly uncomfortable.
Sensing her discomfort, I changed the subject, and we decided to share some cranberry pastries and tea. The atmosphere lightened, but just as I was beginning to relax, Dorothy spoke again.
“There’s one more thing,” she said hesitantly.
“What is it?” I asked, savoring a bite of the pastry.
“You’re not just a relative of the Lycan Queen,” she said, her tone steady and certain. “You’re her daughter. The real princess.”
My hand froze mid–air, the pastry forgotten. “What?”
The words left me stunned. My immediate reaction was denial. “That’s impossible. The Lycan King and Queen don’t have a daughter. I grew up in Europe, didn’t I?”
But the way Dorothy looked at me–calm, knowing, and unyielding -made my voice falter.
Eventually, I sighed and admitted, “Alright, fine. Yes, I’m Princess Madeline. For reasons I can’t share, I’ve had to live under a different name. But you must promise not to tell anyone,
Chapter 15
Dorothy. This secret is critical, not just for me, but for my parents. The elders are already enough trouble for them without adding this to the mix.”
Dorothy nodded solemnly. “You have my word. I won’t tell anyone.”
She then added with quiet conviction, “You’ll make a great queen one day, Thelma. Event greater than your father.”
Her confidence startled me. “Is that part of your prophecy?”
“No,” she replied, smiling. “That’s just what I believe.”
The sincerity in her words made me blush, and I waved her compliment away modestly. “I still have a long way to go before I can live up to such high praise.”
We spent the rest of the evening chatting and laughing, the earlier tension gradually fading. My mother, ever thoughtful, allowed us to dine together in peace, and Dorothy seemed more at ease by the time dessert was served.
As she prepared to leave, she turned to me and said, “I should get home. My grandmother will be waiting.”
“Thank you, Dorothy,” I said earnestly. “For your honesty and for trusting me with your secret. I hope you know I trust you just as much.”
She smiled softly and nodded. “Take care, Thelma. And remember, the future is what we make of it.”
As I watched her leave, a renewed sense of determination filled me. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I would face them with strength and resolve. My love for Aldrich, my duty as a future queen, and the bonds I shared with those who believed in me–these were the things worth,
fighting for.
