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I looked around the room, my mind racing. What were my options here?
I wasn’t exactly powerless.
I could leave the temple and storm into the castle, destroy Arthur with my fire magic—provided I could rely on it to work, though my confidence had grown in recent days. Then I could stop the war, go and extricate Kaye from the military, and... Put him on the throne? What of the new queen and her child? What of the many soldiers I would have to face down?
Or, I could sneak to the front lines. Rescue Kaye. Avoid Arthur altogether. And then what? Take Kaye where? Do what? Pendrath was at war with two kingdoms. Was I really going to leave my country in conflict without trying to stop it?
I clenched my jaw uneasily. There was another option. Would killing my brother Arthur put an immediate end to that war?
But what if Arthur did have Excalibur? And what if he already knew how to wield it?
Would I be any match for him if that was the case? Or would I be destroyed in an instant, leaving Kaye completely defenseless and Camelot exposed to Arthur’s continuing evils?
Meanwhile, back in the Umbral Court, would Draven feel my death?
What was he doing, anyhow, while I sat here at this stone table conferring with Pendrath’s most loyal?
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Did I even want to know? Did he miss me? Or was he simply furious that I had left him, refused to become his empress?
Or was he devastated? Sorrowful? Full of regret?
No, that didn’t sound like the Draven I knew.
Or... A strange feeling prickled in my stomach. Or was he plotting even now how to reach me? I had destroyed the arch in the Siabra temple. But surely there were other ways. Even if he had to take a ship from the coast of Myntra to Eskira.
Would he do that? For me?
He had sworn to lay his armies at my feet. To help me destroy Arthur and save Kaye.
But instead of taking him up on that generous offer, I had simply left. Alone.
No, that wasn’t true either. I glanced sourly at Javer who was studying his steepled fingers. I had one Siabra by my side. An unwanted one.
Across the table I heard Sir Ector clear his throat. “Your noble companion...”
“Who? Him?” I scoffed. “I wouldn’t call him noble.” I narrowed my eyes. “Are you noble, Javer? Is that how you would describe yourself?”
There was an awkward silence. I knew I was being rude and that no one else knew why. No one but Javer himself.
“Would you like to introduce us to your companion, Morgan?” Merlin said, full of tact as always.
“Not particularly,” I said flatly. “But I suppose I must. Unless he would like to do it himself...”
To my surprise, Javer rose to his feet. “Javer is my name, good people of Pendrath.” His voice was low and quiet. He kept his head down, his hands hanging by his side. The picture of contrition.
I shook my head. I wasn’t falling for it.
“Back in Myntra, I had the good fortune to be called Wielder and Mage of the Court of Umbral Flame of the Siabra Fae under the benevolent auspices of His Majesty, the Crown Prince Kairos Draven Venator...”
I made a shushing noise, but it was too late. Javer’s eyes flickered to me with panic.
A roar of voices arose around the table.
“Did you say Kairos Draven?TheKairos Draven who served in our guard?” Dame Halyna demanded.
I slouched in my chair. “One and the same, I’m afraid,” I admitted. I snuck a glance at my uncle. There was a small smile on his face. I swore silently in my head.
It was almost as if the bastard had knownDraven was fucking fae when he had Arthur hire him.
