"Easy now, don't jostle your arm." Verita advised as Roche slid into the seat across from her at the dinner table. Roche nodded distractedly, eyeing the bland stew in front of her ravenously. It had been ages since she'd eaten.
"Thank you, Verita. This looks delicious." she said earnestly before she dove in. Verita chuckled at her hunger, raising her own spoon with more poise that Roche had in her entire body.
"I'd hope so. I tried to copy your cooking, I think it worked this time." Verita explained, sipping at the steaming dish. Roche nearly melted in delight as the spices hit her tongue, feeling warmth diffuse through every inch of her body.
"You absolutely made this perfectly." she managed to say between bites. She didn't look up until her bowl was empty and her stomach was filled. Verita was watching her carefully, something wistful in her gaze. "I owe you my thanks."
"For the meal?" Verita teased. Roche shook her head.
"For helping me. For helping to keep Fake Harold away from Tigris while I was gone. You've done far more than take me in and give me a job as my mother asked." Roche explained, setting down her spoon.
While she was being patched up in the infirmary, Leinos had filled her in on how he, Verita, and Finn had played a dangerous game of keep away with the imposter. Finn had courageously let himself get beat up for as long as possible and landed a very obvious, non-fatal blow to Fake Harold. Verita had brewed an intense sedative that Leinos had used to knock out the knight. It didn't last long, considering that the Fake Harold was a creature of inkblood, so the sedative didn't really work the same, but they managed to delay the final match by a few moments. Just long enough for Roche to retrieve the real Harold, who was now settling in nicely.
According to the head knight's account, Lady Ismere had realised that he was the head knight of the kingdom during the battle and captured him as a backup plan in case the plague failed. The rest of Tigris' knights had been killed instantly with inkblood while Harold was merely knocked out. He awoke in a cell in the cave that Roche had found. Lady Ismere had visited him to gloat at first, but after her death, Geoff had taken over and implemented the backup plan to kill Tigris.
The king was still vehemently denying that it was the Council. Instead, the king was adamant that this was proof of the vile nature of inkblood and vowed to have another inkblood strung up on the pyre by sunrise.
Roche repressed a sigh. She looked up, noticing that Verita was still staring at her with a strange expression. "What?" Roche asked.
Verita bit her lip. "I was wondering if you told anyone of your plan before you left."
"No. Why do you ask?" Roche answered, and Verita frowned at the reply.
"Prince Finn seemed to know the details of your little excursion. Every single detail." Verita emphasized, freezing Roche's blood in her veins. Verita nodded at Roche's reaction. "When I asked him how he knew, he implied that he'd seen it somehow."
"His test. Those visions." Roche muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose as her head began to throb, "This might be bad. Does that mean he actually saw the future?"
"I have no doubt." Verita said gravely, her eyes deadly serious, "He has accurately predicted every major event that has threatened Tigris' life."
Roche rubbed her eyes, exhaustion threatening to undo her. "But he's been wrong before!"
"I'm not so sure." Verita mused thoughtfully, much to Roche's dismay, "I asked about the nature of his visions before. Most of the things he declared aloud, such as Tigris' death with the Atrex and your drowning, were inferences he made from the visions. What he actually saw was accurate."
Roche blinked, feeling like someone had hit her between the eyes with a mallet. "So you're telling me that he has actually seen the future." she clarified, her heart sinking when Verita nodded, "Gods, what do we do?"
Verita bit her lip harder, standing to collect their bowls from the table. "For now, nothing. You've seen what these visions have done to the prince's health. He becomes hysterical at the mere implication that what he's seen could be the future, imagine what would happen if he knew for certain!"
"I don't know," Roche said, doubt fluttering in her mind, "He seemed pretty upset that no one would believe him, Verita. Perhaps it would be better to tell him the truth."
Verita sighed, so wearily that Roche instantly felt bad.
"That was not the only reason, Roche." Verita leaned against the table, looking exhausted, "Prince Finn has become more and more outspoken against his father as he's grown, and it has created a rift between them. I can't be certain what would happen if Finn loses his temper and insists that he's seen the future. The king might see it as something too closely linked to inkblood, and you know how he can get about inkblood."
Roche gaped at the librarian. "You don't think he would burn his own son, do you?"
To Roche's infinite horror, Verita hesitated. "I'm... not sure. The king feels very strongly about inkblood and will do anything to protect his kingdom from it," Verita said carefully, her knuckles whitening around the bowls. She pinned Roche with a serious look. "So please believe me when I say that it is best for the prince to not know the truth. It's safer for him if he doesn't know."
Roche nodded slowly, ignoring how it felt like a betrayal to the prince. Verita's face instantly lightened with relief. The librarian turned towards the sink as Roche stared at the grain of the table, her mind racing.
"Verita?" Roche called, her voice pitched strangely as a thought hit her. She waited until Verita turned towards her again. "So all of Finn's visions will come true?"
"I believe so, yes." Verita replied, her eyes narrowing as the blood drained from Roche's face. "Why?"
Roche opened her mouth wordlessly, suddenly transported back to the forest after that damned test when Finn confessed what he'd seen.
"I tried killing Roche," Finn had said, his eyes haunted, "And you tried killing me."
"Roche?" Verita said softly, drawing Roche back to the present, "What is it?"
Roche gripped the edge of the table, standing as Circe's warnings washed over her. "Nothing," she gritted out, pulling herself up shakily. "Absolutely nothing."
A/N: Oooh, what do you think that means for Roche and Finn?