Page 35

“Gwen is a grump,” I said loudly in the direction of the closed doors. “I never see either of you eat. You are always lurking.”

“Lurking is their job,” Cyara reminded me, nibbling daintily on a bite of fish.

I ignored her and took a long drink of wine, letting it settle into me, smooth out the jagged edges. “When are you going to bring on more guards?”

Lyrena paused, flicking her eyes back toward the door.

“We’re not,” she finally said, staring at her food and very efficiently avoiding Cyara’s and my gazes. “After what happened, it seemed better to have less guards who could be trusted, than more who could pose a threat of their own.”

I handed her a glass of wine. “It’s impractical to have only the two of you. When do you sleep? And shouldn’t one of you be guarding Arran, as well. He’s the High King.”

Damn, damn, damn.

I hadn’t meant to bring him up. I’d been very adroitly avoiding all thoughts of Arran Earthborn, my king and mate.

“His Majesty is the most powerful fae born in—”

“Millennia,” I finished for Lyrena, popping a grape in my mouth. “More like the biggest pain in my ass—”

“If you would train your power, then perhaps you wouldn’t need a guard at all.”

Lyrena swallowed so hard, it was audible. The cracker I held crumbled between my fingers. And Cyara, blast her, kept nibbling on her fish as if she hadn’t just thrown fuel on the flames.

I glared at her, then at Lyrena, who was very determinedly studying the bottom of her wine glass. “Do you all get together and plan these assaults on my good nature?”

Cyara’s wings quivered, and she met me with her turquoise gaze only to roll it emphatically. “I’d be inclined to honor your good nature if you would only see reason.”

“I thought I was enjoying a casual meal with my friends.”

“Friends don’t just tell you what you want to hear,” Cyara said pointedly. “They tell you what you need to hear as well.”

She stood up, brushing nonexistent crumbs from her white gown. “If you’d prefer I silently nod in agreement to everything you say, relieve me of my seat at the Round Table and I will gladly be nothing more than handmaiden. Your Majesty.”

I resisted the urge to throw the grape in my hand at her as she floated away.

Lyrena snatched it out from between my fingers a second before my willpower ran out.

22

ARRAN

The elemental forces were in shockingly good shape, considering the anarchy in Annwyn over the last year. As I walked the winding corridors of the goldstone palace back to my apartments, I rehashed the major points of my long meeting with Elora.

She’d been appointed by Uther shortly before his death. Very young, to be appointed to command the elemental armies—barely fifty years old. I’d initially thought it a vanity appointment, given Roksana’s position on the royal council.

Maybe it had been, to begin with.

But Elora had more than proved her loyalty—cutting down her own mother for the part she’d played in Arthur’s death.

She had also grown the elemental armies from a few small, peace-keeping units to a standing, well-drilled fighting force in a matter of only a few years.

The question remained—why?

Arthur’s order, she’d said.

But that timeline was wrong. It had only been a year and a half since Arthur was crowned.

Had he given the order while he was still only the Crown Prince?