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“I don’t know, but dip away. It’syourcastle, for now at least—until my dad shows up with his army of drunken monsters. Are you going to tell me whether I got it right?”

Queen Deirdre the Sorrowful slowly removes her slippers and then holds her stocking feet over the liquid. “Tell me if this harms you,” she says and then allows her feet to break the surface. She sighs instantly. “You’re not wrong, but my feet hurt the most, though my neck is a close second.”

Even covered with stockings, I can tell that her feet were injured at some point. “What happened to them?”

“A test many years ago that I failed. The pain never lessened at all, not in all these years. Wounds don’t just heal like this—this pool is a blessing. I’m grateful that if you have to be bound to this place, that it’s with such a rare group of monsters. A Pendragon—their first names are all the same, by the way. A Clumberton. And a Taran.Together.” Her eyes widen at the situation that seems entirely normal to me.

“You forgot anO’Henricksbergh,” I mutter ruefully.

“No, I didn’t. With just the three of them, you are already in exceptional company, but with Nicodemus added… it’s just so shocking that those four became allies and formed what is clearly a profound bond.”

The queen teases her fingers over the surface, rubbing the liquid between her fingers as though testing its consistency. “The Clumbertons were always so loyal to their families, viewing all outsiders with unrelenting suspicion. Nicodemus was raised here, after his family sent him to pay their debt to the Crown—that was before my arrival. Tarans are rare, of course. But it’s truly Pendragon that is the greatest surprise.”

Her other hand enters the shimmering liquid, her fingers wiggling almost playfully. “They’ve kept his presence at Clumberton Castle very quiet or I would have sent for him. But the moment they brought you into our realm, they knew their secrets would be revealed. That they brought you, risking the Taran and alerting me to a Pendragon’s whereabouts, is significant.”

My hackles spring to life. “Hisnameis Bastien and if you want to continue this friendly conversation—without me farting in the pool—then use his name.”

“You named him.” It’s an observation, not a judgment or a question.

“No, Iheardhis name, just like his song. I hear it now. I think he’s onTeam Mud Wrestleto be honest. He’s not a fan of yours.”

She shakes her head again, clearly deep in thought. “So rare. I don’t know anyone who’s heard a Taran’s name or song—such things have become more myth than reality.”

Itsk. “Well, that’s what happens when you hunt creatures and treat them like property—they quit sharing their magic.” I flash back to an old movie where a unicorn got darted and its horn stolen. I shudder. Tarans in cages. My rage is coming through the gully like a flash flood, and I’m suddenly wondering whether having a nice chat with Bastien’s oppressor is a great idea.

The queen studies me like I’m a new toy. “How you just arrived and already imagine you know better than I do… it defies logic, but then you are very young.”

Here comes active bitch face on steroids. “My age doesn’t reflect my wisdom and,clearly, neither does yours.”

My verbal arrow hit its mark, but she’s pretending it didn’t. “Before we devolve into the mud wrestling portion of our quality time, would you be willing to answer a few direct, invasive questions?”

I wag my finger at her—just the pointer, not the bird yet, though it’s itching for freedom. “If you call Bastien by his name and listen to what he has to say, without threatening or harming him, I’ll tell you anything you want.”

Another effective eye roll—she really does have the knack. “Fine.”

“Great. What would you like to know, yourHighness?”

“Why would you… no, whydidyou willingly leave your home to come here?” Her openness, which is definitely a new arrival, proves she genuinely wants to know.

I pause for a second, not because I don’t know the answer but because I’m not sure how to explain it. “I never felt like I belonged in that life. It was like buying a prom dress that doesn’t quite fit and thinking you can just get it altered. But no matter how many alterations you do, it never suits you. It’s always just wrong enough that you can never feel your best in it.”

That sad truth brings me down. “That was my life back there, only I was alteringmyselfto try to fit, and I never did, which made me feel like a crappy, self-hating seamstress. But it was the life that was wrong, not me. Here, I don’t have to contort myself into a shape I don’t recognize in order to be accepted. My monsters accept me exactly as I am and they think I’m perfect just how I am.” Tears are crowding me, but I swiftly send them back to their rooms. “It was Nico… he came to see me and Ibelongedfor the first time in my life.”

“His scent—theirscents—have that power, to make you feel anything they want you to feel.”

“Yes, I’m sure they do, but it was more than that. He felt like home in a way nothing ever has, other than my dad, of course. But it wasn’t just Nico. I was instantly drawn to Pennie.”

She gets fussy. “Pendragons are alluring toeveryone—it’s how they used to lure their prey within the reach of their crushing jaws.”

I chuckle. “Drunk on his oil, plenty of sexy time, and then a quick death… there are worse ways to go.”

“AndBastien?” She appears to be testing his name like it’s a sketchy foreign cuisine.

I send a little ping to Bastien to let him know I’m thinking about him. “He’s the most beautiful being I’ve ever met. And meeting someone and knowing they belong to you to cherish all the days of your life, with no risk of betrayal, no secrets, just love… do Ireallyhave to explain why that’s awesome?”

“I guess not. Fated relationships defy logic anyway. But what about Lord Clumberton?Rutsand all that purple?”

A goofy smile owns my face. “He’s honest. He’s loving. He’s passionate. And he has a thing for knitting and doilies—how adorable is that?”