The Angel Contract

Chapter Four: Luighseach

Cork, Ireland 1081

From a distance, my mother's strong Irish brogue called out my name, cutting through the tranquil embrace of the countryside. Ignoring her summons, I closed my eyes, surrendering to the gentle caress of the sun and the soothing whispers of the wind. The green hills stretched out before me, a barrier between my reality and the dreams that beckoned beyond.

I lay still in the tall grass of the meadow, my mind drifting to distant places, yearning for a life untouched by the weight of my heritage—half angel, half human. My days were consumed by chores on the farm, caring for horses and tending to the animals, but in moments like these, I found solace in the quiet expanse of nature, losing myself in the visions that danced behind closed eyes.

Ever since I turned eighteen, my mind had been a conduit for premonitions and messages, a crystal ball of sorts that offered glimpses into a world beyond my own. As I concentrated, the strains of music filled my ears, orchestras of sound that transported me to distant ballrooms, where I swayed to the melody of violins and the rhythm of my own heartbeat.

A shadow fell across my face, disrupting the tranquility of my reverie. I blinked against the sunlight, finding my younger sister, Teagan, standing over me with a mischievous grin. She joined me in the pasture, offering me a piece of bread as she chewed on her own.

"Mama's looking for you. She made bread," Teagan informed me between bites, her voice tinged with excitement at her secret mission. She flopped down beside me, her fiery red hair cascading in the breeze as she tore at blades of grass.

"Do you ever wonder why you have fiery hair and I have golden?" she mused, laughter dancing in her eyes. I smiled at her simplicity, knowing that our differences only strengthened the bond between us.

Teagan's curiosity soon waned, and she nestled her head against mine, her hand finding mine in a familiar gesture of companionship. We were sisters, yes, but more than that—we were kindred spirits, each possessing our own unique gifts and quirks.

"Are you going for a swim tonight?" Teagan asked suddenly, her voice low with anticipation. I hesitated, sensing a shift in the air, a whisper of something yet unseen. Yes, I replied, though uncertainty tinged my words. Swimming was my nightly ritual, a solitary escape from the burdens of my reality.

Teagan's keen gaze fixed on me, her eyes narrowing inquisitively. I felt the telltale burn behind my eyes, the shimmer of colors swirling within, and I knew she saw it too—fireworks igniting in the depths of my soul.

As we walked back home, Teagan linked her arm through mine, her excitement palpable as she shared the latest gossip from town. Tristan, the elusive prince, had returned, his impending marriage to Lady Bishop sparking whispers and rumors among the villagers.

Teagan's excitement bubbled over as she speculated about my recent vision, her arms linked with mine as we strolled back to the farm. If only I could articulate the fleeting sensations that swept through me—an inexplicable feeling of anticipation, tinged with a hint of apprehension. It was as if the very air around us crackled with possibility, a silent herald of events yet to unfold.

"You probably saw the prince," Teagan suggested eagerly, her voice alight with excitement. I paused, my heart skipping a beat at the mention of Tristan's name. Though I had never met him, the tales whispered among the villagers painted him as a figure of intrigue, forever wandering beyond the confines of our kingdom.

"Tristan's back in town?" I asked, my curiosity piqued by Teagan's words. She nodded, her smile mischievous as she revealed the latest gossip from Molly O'Shea—a marriage arranged by the king, a meeting with Lady Bishop from Galway. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, painting a picture of political alliances and royal intrigue.

"Molly says she's beautiful but dreadful," Teagan added, her tone laced with a hint of apprehension. I shook my head, dismissing her words as idle gossip. Teagan's penchant for drama was well-known, and I had long grown accustomed to her flights of fancy.

"Teagan, you know better than to listen to Molly's tales," I chided gently, though a flicker of doubt lingered in the back of my mind. There was a kernel of truth buried within her words, a sense of foreboding that I couldn't shake.

As we continued our journey back to the farm, Teagan busied herself with collecting wildflowers, her laughter echoing through the meadow. Yet, amidst the cheerful chatter and vibrant blooms, my thoughts drifted to the vision that had sparked our conversation—a crown of wildflowers adorning my head, a symbol of power and possibility.

In that moment, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held in store, what role destiny had carved out for me in the grand tapestry of life. For in the whispers of the wind and the rustle of the leaves, I sensed the faintest echo of my own destiny—a destiny intertwined with that of a wandering prince and a lady from afar.

I listened to her chatter, but my mind wandered elsewhere, visions of crowns made of wildflowers dancing in my head. For in that moment, amidst the simplicity of farm life and the whispers of gossip, I felt the stirring of something greater—a destiny waiting to unfold, a future waiting to be claimed.