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“This is where you belong, dear sister,” she murmured, tucking an arm around my waist as I stood between her and Arthur.
I looked out over the Great Hall as the crowd of nobles lifted their voices in another cheer.
Down below, Fenyx caught my eye and smiled, his polished armor gleaming like gold in the light of the hanging candelabras.
CHAPTER 20 - MORGAN
Ihad no further chanceto speak to Orcades. The king and queen slipped away soon after, and I was left standing in the Great Hall—surrounded by people but alone.
Despite Arthur’s fine words, no one offered the hand of friendship to me, though some nobles did deign to give me a tight-lipped smile or a nod before quickly moving away.
It was fine. I had been persona-non-grata before I’d left.
To them, I must appear even stranger now. Worse, I had the taint of a traitor on me. For there had been a shadow behind Arthur’s words, despite their welcoming tone. That emphasis on loyalty and unity...
“Morgan, my dear.” A portly man in white robes trimmed with gold touched my arm.
“Tyre!” I stared at him, hardly able to believe he was real.
The priest forced a smile. Of course he was in mourning for Merlin, yet here he was, compelled to pretend along with me that all was better than ever. “I was here all along, my dear lady. I have no intention of ever sitting on that dais. I prefer to stand behind a pillar and hope not to be noticed.”
I smiled a little, remembering how Galahad and I used to do much the same.
Tyre gestured towards a quiet space near one of the pillars, and I followed him over. He looked around carefully before speaking again. “I was not in the temple last night when the attack came. To my deep regret, I had gone out into the city and was helping an encampment of refugees move their tents and possessions before the king’s soldiers could tear them down.”
“Why should you be sorry for that?” I said, remembering the encampments. “That sounds like a worthy task. I’m glad you remained safe.”
“Yes. The king tolerates my charitable works, even if he does not encourage them. I’ve managed to assure the king that Merlin and the others were acting entirely alone. It’s cowardly, I know, but—”
“But this way, you can continue to oversee the temple,” I interrupted. “No, it’s an excellent idea, Tyre. The people left behind... Well, they need someone to care for them. Were many of the acolytes harmed?” I remembered the fallen bodies, the pools of blood.
Tyre’s lips thinned. “The soldiers were careless. The king had given them free reign for their violence. I believe they were misled into thinking we would be armed in turn, that they’d be facing a group of violent rebels rather than unarmed priests and priestesses. Sadly, we lost at least a dozen people. Many young men and women who had just begun their devotional journeys. Innocent lives, all of them.” He lowered his head, his face full of sorrow.
“Merlin is gone,” I said softly, reaching a hand out to touch his arm. It was warm and solid. “But at least they still have you. The temple needs you. Those who remain need reassurance.”
“Reassurance?” Tyre smiled briefly. It was not his usual jovial expression. “Reassurance that I can protect them? Or reassurance that I will cooperate with the king no matter the price to my conscience?”
