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Now we were getting to the heart of things.

“This is where we begin. I tell you everything that the witch revealed, and we discuss it together. A round table, where we each may share our thoughts without considering status or with fear of political retribution. I am sick to death of politics and maneuvering. I want truth—and I want you each to vow to give it to me—to us. Always.”

Us. High Queen and King. Not queen and consort, not after tomorrow. But true, joint rulers.

I already felt a headache forming behind my temples. A thousand years of having to come to consensus with Veyka was a more daunting notion than going back up that tower.

“So you won’t be holding a seat for the mighty ‘Siege Perilous,’” Parys tried to joke. But we could all read the seriousness that belied his question.

Veyka waved her hand at the two empty seats. “Who knows who will join us in the next few hundred years.”

Parys dipped his chin, considering. But it was Gwen who unfolded her hands atop the table, her thumbs skating over the smooth stone surface.

“There are four elementals and only two terrestrials seated at the table,” Gwen said, pinning Veyka down with her eyes.

But where Veyka might once have looked away, she stared right back at her Goldstone.

“There are still two seats open,” Veyka pointed out.

Both had their futures stolen from them. Both queens, in their own way. And it was a regal stare down that passed between them. But also some sort of message, an acknowledgment.

Gwen inclined her head.

“It is settled then.” Veyka looked to each of us in turn, then to me.Satisfied?

Let me fuck you on this table, and then, maybe.

She grinned wickedly.

But a sudden, flaring light drew both of our eyes away.

It wasn’t from Lyrena or Cyara, their flames nowhere to be seen. It came from the table itself. Before each of the occupied seats, a low glow emanated. Growing, brightening, until suddenly there was a bright flash, and then nothing.

I read the words before me.

Arran Earthborn.

No mention of my legacy as the Brutal Prince, nor my future as the High King. Merely my name. A quick glance around the table told me the others were noting the same. The two empty seats remained unmarked.

“Any other tricks you’d like to tell us about, Gwen?” Veyka asked, feigning irreverence. But I could see the unease in her eyes.

“The table is ancient,” Gwen said, shaking her head. “Whatever magic it possesses will be revealed in its own time.”

“Lovely,” Veyka said wryly.

She pushed away from the table just as a knock sounded at the door. She must have been listening for the footsteps.

“Enter,” she called.

The doors sprang open to reveal servants bearing heavy trays of food. She motioned towards the sofa and chaise. She’d decided the table should only be used for official business; I was inclined to agree. Symbolism in command was always important.

Veyka wasted no time in swiping up a sausage roll, issuing her next decree. “First we eat, then we plan.”

86

VEYKA

Thrice I had stood on this precipice, awaiting my destiny. Dressed in my finery, forced through the motions into a reality I hated.