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Gawayn did not spare me a word as he dragged me from the throne room. Nor did he flinch from my blade at his throat. One look at his eyes and I knew—he’d let me slit his throat before he released my arm.

He was willing to die to protect me.

I clung to that thought as he dragged me out.

Where was Arthur? Was this some sort of jape to entertain the terrestrial delegation? No one seemed amused. Cries—I was hearing cries now.

I recognized the desperate sounds even as a gust of warm wind hit me from behind, pushing me through the goldstone arch, to the jewel-encrusted filigree door beyond. Gawayn’s wind was always warm, the heat to Evander’s frigid winter blast.

Someone was dead.

Gawayn’s summer breeze slammed the door closed behind us, his hands rough on my bare shoulders where they were exposed by my gown, shoving me forward.

“Keep going,” he instructed, voice gruff.

Gruff. Not calm, not taciturn, not stoic. But racked with barely contained emotion.

Realization clanged through me, sharp and painful as any sword. Gawayn was with me. He was Captain of my brother’s Goldstones. But he was with me. Which could only mean one thing.

“Gawayn, we have to go back.” I planted my feet in the narrow corridor, bracing a hand against each wall. But my guard was bigger and I still had my dagger clenched in one fist, preventing me from holding tight to the goldstone.

“Take me back,” I demanded.

“No, Your Majesty.”

My heart stopped. The arms that I’d pinned to the walls dropped to my side, slack. The dagger clamored to the ground. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe.

But I could hear.

I heard Gawayn say the words that would doom me forever—

“King Arthur is dead.”

3

VEYKA

What do I want?

A quick death. Barring that, I only dream of one thing—revenge.

Growing up closeted away in the water gardens, I’d dreamed of freedom. I’d yearned to walk through the goldstone palace at will, to eat and drink as I wished. Such silly, childish dreams. Now, all of my dreams were dead.

“More wine, Councilor Teo?”

Teo did not even look at me. His palm glided over the top of his goblet, a silent negation. The only indication he deigned to give that he’d heard me at all.

I didn’t grit my teeth at the slight. I knew exactly how Teo felt about me, the queen that was never supposed to be.

“Councilor Roksana?” I asked, keeping my voice light and soft.

“No, thank you,” the older female said, pale gray eyes flicking over me. “Your Majesty,” she added, one dark brow arching.

I did not curtsey. They bowed to me now. The reprimand in Roksana’s eyes was clear. She did not approve of the Queen of the Elemental Fae filling the role of cupbearer to her own royal council.

“The terrestrial delegation arrives in a week,” Councilor Esa reminded us all from her post near the head of the rectangular table.

She wouldn’t dare to actually seat herself on Arthur’s throne, but she was as close as she could manage. And asdonnaof the Royal Council, Esa was more queen than I at this point.