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Veyka Pendragon might be many things. But I knew one for certain—she did not want to rule this kingdom. She did not think herself worthy of it. I wasn’t sure I thought so either, for all that I admired her commitment to her brother’s legacy and her luscious body.

But Gwen had made her decision, and now we would all have to live with it.

“I thank you, Lady Guinevere, for your generous gift,” Veyka stammered.

Courtiers looked at her curiously. Her royal councilors, huddled off to one side, wore matching, carefully indifferent faces. Every one of them was calculating what this might mean in the machinations of power.

To the terrestrials lingering on the edges of the festival, it was a gesture of peace and reconciliation. A way for Gwen to show that she was fully committed to Annwyn, and that she’d moved on from the loss of the throne herself. It ought to have been a powerful moment, a symbol that could be wielded for obedience, like carrying the head of one’s enemy on a spike into battle.

But Veyka was hardly managing. I stepped up to her side, ready to make a declaration on her behalf. It was eerie how similar court machinations were to battlefield ones.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

The priestess, dressed in an ombre red gown, stepped forward and laid a hand upon the table. Gwen hissed through her teeth at the audacity. Veyka nearly spilled her aural, her wrist flicking dangerously. Maybe she was considering throwing it on the female.

But then the priestess’ entire body jerked, her head snapping back, eyes skyward.

“A table of destiny,”she cried in an otherworldly register. “Five shall be with you at Mabon. One is not yet known, but the bravest of the five shall be his father. When he comes, you will know that the time for the Grail is near.”

I’d never seen so many fae robbed of words, all at once. Every eye was on the priestess, her body arched unnaturally. Silence beat on, long enough that gazes drifted, mouths opened to whisper and wonder.

But she wasn’t done with her performance.

“The last is the Siege Perilous. It is death to all but the one for which it is made—the best of them all—the one who shall come at the moment of direst need.”

Three beats of silence, then the priestess gasped in a breath, straightening, an air of normalcy returning to her countenance.

“My apologies, Your Majesty.” She dropped into a pool of red silk, sinking to her knees. “The prophecy…”

Veyka’s eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of her face. That aural was definitely about to be thrown on the priestess. I snatched the cup from her, lifting it in Gwen’s direction and ignoring the priestess entirely.

“To the peaceful union of Annwyn! For all that has been and all that will ever be!” I didn’t wait for the response before gulping back the aural.

A hundred goblets lifted in response, then drank. Gwen rose, returning to her post. The priestess was glaring, still kneeling on the floor, awaiting an acknowledgement that would not come.

I thanked the airborne fae who had delivered the round table, offering them aural and food. I considered asking them to transport it somewhere else, but the table was massive and they’d flown far already. The revelers gave the table a wide berth, clearly aware of its import. I’d have to remember to set some palace guards to watch over it once night fell. If enough aural was consumed, that reverence would give way to desire to be one of the few to fuck atop the legendary round table.

By the time I’d seen to all of it, Veyka was gone.

* * *

Not far.

I found her lurking in the corner of the next courtyard, watching the courtiers dancing in the sun. She already had another goblet of aural in her hand, half drained. That was how she was going to deal with the onslaught of pressure, the reminder that even after Arthur was avenged, she still had to rule this cursed place—by getting systematically drunk.

I decided to offer her another alternative.

“In Wolf Bay, we do not wait for the darkness,” I whispered into her ear. She must have heard me coming, or caught my scent. She didn’t jump at all.

“The entire day is spent in fornication and lust.” I dragged my finger down the exposed column of her spine. “So that when the sun rises anew, we are ready to be cleansed.”

I reached the edge of her gown, nudged it aside, and settled my finger into the gap between the generous twin curves of her ass. Veyka breathed in sharply, her teeth sinking into her full bottom lip. I wondered briefly if anyone had ever touched her there.

As soon as the sun dipped below that damned horizon, I would.

“Would you like me to show you, Veyka?”

No response. But she didn’t move away.