Layla woke with thick cold enveloping her. The silky sheets and soft bed should have helped her stay warm, but a chill spread through her entire body every time she thought of the pained that flashed on her brother's face when Rahl looked at him. With a groan she rolled out of the bed, and her toes clenched as her feet hit the cold stone floor. She drew a robe over her shoulders and began to pace the room.

She had been locked in the room for three days. Every few hours a middle-aged woman with a well worn apron would come to her room with a hot meal, and tight lips. Layla peered out the door when she came and saw two guards, still as statues, posted on either side. No matter how many questions she asked no one would give her a straight answer about the palace, Rahl, or her reason for being there. She was itching to leave the room and get a breath of fresh air. Layla cracked the window and made her way to the small table where she had some charcoal and parchment spread out. She picked up a stub of charcoal and clumsily smudged the image of a flower onto the page.

Layla stared at the crumbling black lines and wondered how she had gotten here. She used to dream of going on wild adventures as a kid, but she never could have imagined the series of events which brought her to the stone cold room she sat in now. A chilly wind slithered through the cracked window and goosebumps popped up on her skin. Layla shivered and poked at the dwindling fire in frustration, but the dull embers only flickered as their spark died. The dark clouds pushed another cool breeze into the room causing the weak flames to flicker even more. Layla attacked the windows as if they stood open in personal defiance against. After slamming them closed she threw herself onto the bed and exhaled a deep long sigh.

"Well," A sinister velvet voice lofted across the room, "The mood in here is rather somber."

"Oh," Layla said, sitting up, but not facing Rahl, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were supposed to have an extravagant celebration when you were locked in solitude." Layla turned to see Rahl's arrogant smirk wilt and was replace itself with a dissatisfied frown.

"Enough of that," Rahl commanded, "Your sarcastic remarks are not appreciated in my company. Besides, you said you would cooperate."

"That would be much easier if I knew what you needed my cooperation for." Layla asserted.

"This way." Rahl delivered the command like the two words alone answered all her questions. Layla slid from the bed and rushed to follow him out the door. She stared at the guards as she passed them, but they maintained their positions dutifully.

Again Rahl weaved through a web of hallways before they came to a small door in one of the highest parts of the palace. Layla followed him through into a large open room with glass windows across most of the walls and ceiling. The walls met at odd intervals, giving the room a not quite octagonal appearance. Her footsteps had a slight echo as she trailed into the center of the room. She stared through the skylight at the gray-blue sky that hung overhead. Her gaze dropped to the horizon. She felt as though, on a clearer day, she'd have been able to see the whole of D'hara from that room.

"Do you know what a prophet is, Layla?" Rahl inquired.

"A magical being who can tell and decipher prophecies." Layla answered half-heartedly. Her mind was still focused on the scenery through the window.

"Have you ever met one?"

"Of course not." Layla looked at him as though he were crazy.

"Hmm..." Rahl turned to a table in the corner and began to page through a book, "There is legend of a tribe of women who lived, thousands of years ago, near where the border now stands between D'Hara and the Midlands. These women had a special gift; they could tell a man his future."

"I've never heard such a legend," Layla countered.

"No," Rahl turned his head over his shoulder to look at her, "I don't suppose you would have. This was a legend that died out long ago. After these women were blinded and lost their power there wasn't much of a legend to share."

"Why would anyone want to blind them?" Layla asked.

"Such powers can be very dangerous," The corners of Rahl's mouth lifted slightly, "Especially in the wrong hands. Many scholars believe that these women were hunted down and killed by a jealous king who was disappointed with his fortune."

"I don't understand why you're telling me all of this," Layla stated indignantly. She didn't like the way Rahl's eyes watched her. His eye contact was so intense it was almost like he was looking through her.

"Inside this book," Rahl said, pointing to the mass of yellowed pages that sat open on the table, "There is a different story about these women. The women grew weary of telling people's futures, especially since so many went away disappointed with news that they'd never be rich or would never fall in love. And so the women blinded themselves, so that they wouldn't have to face the demands of the people."

"Well that's just depressing," Layla said, playing with a loose string on the hem of her sleeve.

"Of course," Rahl turned to Layla and lifted her face so their eyes met, demanding her full attention, "that is all a tall tale meant to mask a deeper, darker secret." She pulled her face from his hand and walked to the windows, staring out towards the fields and forests.

"It is my theory that a spell was placed on these women," Rahl pressed on, "A sort of binding spell which would suppress their powers, so they were no longer a burden."

"So what?!" Layla exploded, "You keep telling me this story, but if they're all blind and dead anyway, then what does it have to do with me?!"

"You still don't get it do you?" Rahl's cruel voice mocked, "These women had children who had children, who had children after that and so on. Each of these children passed on that same suppressed traits those tribes women passed onto them, but none of them ever knew because of the binding spell."

Layla said nothing. Her mind was working hard, trying to connect Rahl's words to that suspicion building up inside her, but she didn't want to believe it.

"Tell me Layla," Rahl asked with mock sincerity, "Have you ever had a gut feeling that danger was coming before it did? Or a dream one night that inexplicably came true the next day?" All this was just fodder Rahl was feeding her to make her believe the truth.
"Stop it," Layla muttered, and Rahl silenced himself. He waited for her to pose a question, knowing very well that he had her where he wanted her.

"Why me? How did you know?"

"It was your eyes," Rahl said calmly, "The first time I saw you, there was a glint of something foreign. Something murky that was blocking you from seeing something you were born to see, and it's still there." Rahl brushed a stray curl from her face, "And I can make it go away," he whispered in her ear.

Layla thought about it. She thought about everything. She thought about her sisters back home. She thought about Will and Viviane. She thought about Clem. She thought about about the life she was born into. The life she was had been living, up until now. A life lacking adventure or excitement, and, for the first time, she realized she didn't fit into that life, and that life didn't fit her. She was being pulled in a different direction, away from the sisters she loved and the life she left behind, towards Rahl's tempting promise to make her whole.

"Do it," Layla exhaled.