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“Gwen, that’s enough.” The Brutal Prince lunged forward, grabbing the dark-skinned female’s arm.
My pounding heart stopped.
“Gwen,” I repeated, looking the regal female over with new eyes. “Guinevere.”
Iwas the imbecile.
She stood before me in emerald and gold, regal as a queen, because she was meant to be one.
Ishould have worn emerald and gold. I should have been the one paying homage to my brother.
Guilt rose in me like bile.
I spun away, desperate to make the pain stop.
This was why I refused to let emotion in. If I cared about my court, if I cared about anyone or anything, I would never survive. The pain of it would choke me until I was as dead as Arthur.
Not yet. I could not give in yet.
“Why are you here?” Lyrena’s curious voice sliced through the tension.
I opened my mouth but had to close it again just as quickly. What tea I’d choked down that morning threatened its revenge.
“I wished to speak to my betrothed in private,” Arran said, his voice full of gravel and menace.
Was he… trying to spare me?
Was I so transparent?
Of course I was.
I was turned away from everyone else in the room, choking on my own vomit. It did not take ethereal magic to sense my distress.
“My duty to Annwyn did not die the day that Arthur did,” Guinevere said.
His name on her lips had me turning.
Arran’s hand on her arm had softened, offering comfort rather than a reprimand.
“I asked Arran if I could join his delegation. He was smart enough to accept my offer,” the stunning terrestrial female said, her eyes flicking up to where the Brutal Prince towered over her. The warmth in her words was obvious.
He had not responded to Lyrena to spare me, but her. Guinevere.
The true High Queen of Annwyn.
I really was going to be sick.
“I will retire,” I said, irritated beyond measure at the sharpness of my own voice.
Gawayn stepped forward instantly. Lyrena lingered a breath longer, her eyes still considering the terrestrial female. Was that a subtle glow—
“We can take the passageways, Your Majesty,” Gawayn was saying, already opening the gold filigree door at the back of the chamber.
The passages wound throughout the goldstone palace so the royal family and council could move without being pestered by courtiers when needed. I wanted to avoid that throne room full of calculating eyes almost as badly as I wanted out of this chamber.
“Thank you, Gawayn,” I said. I nodded in Arran’s direction, avoiding looking too closely at the familiar picture he and Guinevere presented.
Lyrena moved past me, ready to lead the way into the passageway.
