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“My Lady,” he murmurs in an attempt athuskythat just comes off as grating.

“Yeah, hi. Let’s eat.”

With Bastien at my side, I finally notice how elegantly the table is set, how fragrant the food is, and how incredibly hungry I am. I tug Bastien with me, sending a hostile glare atShinywhen he raises his eyebrow at the sight of Bastien seated at the table.

I lean toward Bastien from my seat beside his. “You really need to explain what this whole Taran bigotry stuff is about… hopefully, before I stab that jackass with every single utensil on this pretty table.”

Bastien attempts to smother a snort behind his feathered hand. “I’d prefer to explain rightafteryou stab him actually.”

I kiss Bastien’s cheek. “That’s a much better idea.” Then I direct my attention toward Shiny, while the platters begin circulating the table, my monsters ensuring my plate is full. “If I claim Bastien, are you going to try to stop me?”

Shiny seems surprised by the directness of my question, though I’m not sure why. I’ve been about as direct with him as a person can be without wielding a bat.

“My Lady, why don’tyouexplain why you wouldwantto claim the Taran? I mean, you did just meet him, correct?”

I glance at Nico, Pennie, and Archie, who don’t say a word but who absolutely communicate that this is my show. Then I look at Bastien and strain to hear our song. It’s entirely distant now, even though we’re so close. The truth in that is unavoidable. He’s dying and his song is fading. I have never in my life felt the clock ticking quite like this.

“You’re not wrong. I did just meet these gentlemen monsters. And in that small time, they’ve already shown themselves to be thoughtful, honest, courageous, kind, passionate, and absolutely devoted to their family.” My words reach them and all their postures straighten with pride. “But with Bastien, it’s even more than that. I met him and his song filled me, his name came into my mind, and I can feel him…feelthe way we’re already family. So the real question is: Why wouldn’t I want to save his life that is already so deeply connected with mine?”

Shiny leans forward, his antlers catching the light through the window and practically glowing. “But you can’t leave him behind, my Lady. You’ll be trapped in our realm with a Taran as your pet for the rest of your life.”

I know my face is going rogue, assuming a truly unattractive and yet entirely earnedactivebitch face. “Nobody actually likes you, do they? You have subordinates but no friends. Your family… they don’t like you either, do they? You’re just one walking toxic cloud of smug shittiness, aren’t you?”

Shiny is grinning but it’s entirely false. There’s an intensity in his eyes that reveals another direct hit. My dad would be proud of my handling of this creep. I might have to rename himChad.

“Are you willing to imagine something?” I ask, keeping my voice soft now, hopefully not too abrasive.

“For you, of course,” he answers suavely.

“Imagine living your whole adult life feeling like you never belonged anywhere, that everyone around you was just a placeholder for the family and friends you always dreamed of.” I hold his gaze. “You don’t have to imagine that, do you? You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His only response is a slow nod.

“Now imagine stepping through a portal and finally, for the first time, feeling like you absolutely belong somewhere. I don’t know these gentlemen as well as I’d like to, as well as I will in time, but I’m no longer imagining others who will fill those precious spots in my life. I’m home.” The truth of it is like a blanket surrounding me on a chilly night.

“Other than with my dad, I’ve never felt anything like this. I never had a mother, but I never imagined one because my dad was everything to me.” I look at each of my beloved monsters’ faces and say, “This family is now everything to me.” Then, to our unwelcome visitor, I add, “Weareat the beginning, First Knight…ShinyPants—I’m sorry, I really don’t know your name.”

“First Knight Remington Zachariah Blankenship, my Lady.”

I gape at that name and mutter, “That’sa lotof syllables.”

My monsters stiffen and then I giggle. “It’s a good thing we’ve reached our syllable quota—Sebastien Theodore filled up the last remaining syllables allowed in this castle.”

Like I popped a giant stress bubble, my monsters’ tension eases and I focus on Remington. “We’re at the beginning—I understand that—but I also know that ours is a long story, one that may never end.”

He appears awed by me, my feelings, or maybe he just likes my dress.

“Remy—please, call me Remy,” he says, and then asks me about tacos, of all things.

Chapter33

Bianca

We talk about tacos for a ridiculously long time, not that I couldn’t discuss the wonderment of tacos for years. They are more than worthy of many, many words—epic tales even—but Remy’s interest in them becomes a little weird after a while.

Nico is amused by the topic and no one else at the table seems inclined to chat, so I continue my dissertation on the merits of fresh guacamole and salsa, along with artisanal cheeses, for longer than seems sensible. But my focus fractures as Bastien’s weakening song becomes more difficult to hear, especially over my yammering.

Finally, I’ve had enough. “If Bastien hadn’t plucked his origin feather, what would your queen have done to him?”