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Warwick’s body shook and quivered with pain. Sweat welled on his skin, making him pale and clammy. Tendons strained in his neck and shoulders, his jaws clenched tight against the pain. But he finally succumbed to a scream of agony as the sword bit deeper.

“Almost there, Sir Warwick,” Shara whispered, stroking his cheeks. Some of her hair slipped loose from the thick braid and fell over his eyes. “Yes. Of course. Go to sleep, Sir Warwick. Safe in my embrace. When you wake, it’ll be over.”

The magic in her hair softened his muscles. He no longer screamed or struggled, though none of us let up our grip on him in case he managed to rouse himself before Lancelot was done. The sword in his hand gleamed white hot, searing Warwick’s innards. Deeper. Goddess. It made me uncomfortable to watch, and I’ve endured plenty of torture in my day.

“Hold there.” Gwen studied the wound with her magic. “By goddess, it’s working. Excalibur, the Queen of Camelot asks you to please pull all fae magic from this man’s wound.”

A high-pitched metallic tone echoed through the room. A chime, as if a metal tuning fork had tapped the mighty sword.

“That’s enough.”

Lancelot immediately drew the blade out of Warwick’s groin with one smooth, fast pull. As the metal left his body, the wound closed, leaving only a white jagged line of scar tissue to mark the original injury. No more bleeding. Gwen examined the knight’s thigh, tracing her fingers and magic over the tissues, smoothing away any lingering damage or trauma. Then she raised her gaze to Shara’s with a pleased smile that glowed with all the power of Camelot. “I think we’ve done it.”

Shara pulled her hair back away from Warwick, the tendrils automatically coiling back into her braid. “You can wake up now, Sir Warwick. We’re all done.”

He opened his eyes, blinking up at her sleepily. “Please don’t be disappointed, Your Majesty. This stubborn wound has troubled me for centuries.”

Her lips quirked. “Perhaps you should examine it for yourself, Sir Warwick.”

All of us released our fierce grips on him. Gingerly, he rose up on his elbows. Gazing down at himself for a long while as if in disbelief. Then he jerked upright fully so he could touch the thin scar. Probing his thigh with his fingers, testing it for any soreness. “Goddess be praised. I never… I expected…” He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

We all began to withdraw to give him a moment to pull himself together. Even Shara. Though as she started to walk past, he snagged her hand.

He pressed her fingers to his face, though he didn’t look up at her. “I can’t thank you enough, Your Majesty.”

She wrapped her other arm around his shoulders and he leaned against her. Sobbing softly. And though my queen had been through hell and back again not once but twice this very day, she wept with him. Holding him. To her heart.

As she held each of us. For all time.

I watched Lancelot lovingly clean the legendary sword before he sheathed it. He caught me watching and gave me a challenging grin. “Not coveting my sword, are you, Sir Guillaume?”

Shaking my head, I grunted softly. “Let’s just say after seeing Excalibur’s fae magic in action, I’m relieved we’re on the same team. Though at the end of our queen’s very long and fruitful reign on this earth, I may someday ask a favor of you.”

He gripped my shoulder, his eyes grave. “On my honor, it will be done, Sir Guillaume.”

I gripped his shoulder and gave him a nod. “Thank you, Sir Lancelot du Lac.”

32

SHARA

Luxuriating in a lapis blue tub in hot water so deep I could close my eyes and imagine myself floating in my grotto back home, I wondered if Esetta had seen me here. Soaking away the grimy streaks of salty tears, pus, and blood.

No. She couldn’t have, at least not fully. Because while the tub was delightfully deep and big enough for me, it wasn’t big enough for Rik to get in with me.

He lay on his stomach, stretched out on the tiled floor, his elbows on either side of my head. One big hand under my chin, the other forearm loosely wrapped around my neck, his palm on my opposite shoulder. Every once in a while, he would kiss my head or my cheek, his hair slipping down to tickle me.

“I could stay here forever,” I whispered, soaking in his touch as much as the hot water.

“Then do so, my queen.”

I opened my eyes and slowly pulled away so I could sit up. “I have too much to do before the new siblings return for dinner. Besides, I’d rather be in my grotto where you can be with me.”

“They wait upon you. We all do.”

I wasn’t sure how much the new Valois siblings had picked up on what we’d gone through in the attic. I’d tamped down my awareness of them completely, only trusting Gwen, Mayte, Carys, and Leonie to be with me in those last moments. Gwen was anxious to get back to Camelot to prepare for their quest to Houska Castle, but I’d asked her to stay at least through dinner, along with Mayte and her Blood. It would be nice to have my closest siblings all together for the first time, as well as introducing them to the newest siblings to join House Isador. Perhaps I would make it a tradition.

Carys had met me at the fountain and squeezed me so hard I grunted. Then she immediately berated me for not taking her with me as she hugged me tighter.