The accusation hangs in the air for a moment before Kellan turns away sharply, running a hand through his hair. I can see the muscles in his back and shoulders bunching beneath his shirt as he struggles to rein in his temper.
"I should have known," he mutters, more to himself than to us. "The nightmares, the fatigue… I thought it was just the pregnancy." He slams his fist against the wall, hard enough that I hear something crack, either the stone or his knuckles. "Fuck!"
When he turns back to face us, his expression is filled with self-recrimination and fury.
"I am your bonded guardian," he says, voice low and rough with emotion. "My entire purpose is to protect you, and I've been walking around with my head up my ass while you've had that monster whispering in your mind."
I shrink a little against Hawke's chest, guilt compounding my exhaustion. Kellan sees it and his expression softens slightly, though the rage is still there, simmering beneath the surface.
"This isn't your fault, Domina," he says, though the words sound like they're being dragged from him. "But you should have trusted me enough to tell me. Either of us. Both of us."
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“No more secrets,” he whispers.
Hawke buries his mouth in my hair. “No more blocking us, ever.”
"I won't. I promise," I choke out after a sob. My voice steadies as I continue, "But I need to go to Camelot. Tonight. I need to understand why the queen is calling me and what she actually wants."
Kellan looks to Hawke, clearly expecting him to refuse. When Hawke remains silent, Kellan's eyebrows rise in surprise. "You're considering this?"
I push away from Hawke's chest, my exhaustion giving way to a desperate urgency. My hands tremble as I wrap my arms around myself.
"Both of you, please," I say, my voice cracking. "I'm the one that can't sleep, can't think. It's—" I swallow hard, fighting against the tightness in my throat. "It's torture. The voice is getting stronger every night. This isn't something I can ignore and stay sane."
The queen's voice crescendos in my head as if to emphasize my point, making me wince. I press the heel of my palm against my temple, willing it to stop just for one goddamn minute.
"Let's go, but you are not touching the sword or the wall, do you understand?" Hawke says finally.
Relief floods through me so intensely that my knees nearly buckle. "Thank you and yes."
"Don't thank me yet," Hawke warns. "I think this is a terrible idea. But I'd rather be there to protect you than have you sneaking off on your own."
"I wasn't going to sneak—" The lie dies on my lips as Hawke raises an eyebrow, silencing me with a look that clearly says he knows me too well.
I drop my gaze, too tired to maintain the pretense. "Fine," I concede, my voice barely above a whisper. "I might have considered it."
"Kellan comes too," Hawke says, already moving to our wardrobe. "And we'll need a siren to travel. No horses for you for a while."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak past the lump of gratitude forming in my throat. Finally. Maybe I can get some answers or at least ask the evil woman to shut up to her face.
“There’s a garden with a fountain below the bridge that crosses to the Table chamber,” Hawke tells Kellan.
Kellan nods. “I’ll call a siren.”
I point to our bathroom. “The tub’s already full in there.”
Both men glare at me with such judgement.
I frown and pick at a hangnail. “I take a lot of baths. It’s the only thing that helps with morning sickness.”
The minutes drag, but soon we're all three fully dressed and standing in our private bathing chamber.
Kellan has summoned a siren, not one I recognize, just a young female with silver-blue hair and iridescent skin. She rises from the tub's surface in a silvery white dress.
"Your Majesties," she greets us with a formal bow. "How may I serve the crown?"
"The garden fountain beneath the eastern tower bridge in Camelot," Hawke says.
