Page 18 of Lady of the Lake

Sometimes, when I look at him, it’s hard to remember that I’ve seen him slit a man’s throat during dinner.

Branches arch overhead, forming a living cathedral that shielded the ground from the snowfall. A carpet of moss leads to the altar. Glowing blue butterflies perch on the boughs around us, and crimson berries dapple the grove, vivid against the snowy branches.

As I step closer to Talan, he reaches for my hands. I slide mine into his.

I can’t quite read the expression in his eyes beneath those dark eyelashes, just the faintest curve of his lips. Almost playful. I wonder how much of this is simple rebellion, marrying a penniless peasant to piss off the father he hates.

Griflet stands before the altar with a large book in his hands. He flips through it, clearing his throat. “We are gathered here today in remembrance of the sacred groves of Avalon, and of thesword of Nimuë in Avalon’s Lake, and of the crown of Morgan, Queen of Night, monarch of the oaks…”

The words send little shockwaves dancing over my skin. The cleric not only referenced my predecessor, Nimuë, the previous Lady of the Lake, but also my grandmother, Morgan, who died centuries before I was born.

As Griflet finishes reading his passage, Talan pulls out a small blue pouch. He turns it upside down, and two rings slide out, one large and spiked like a crown. The other is delicate, thin, like pale gold vines threaded together. He hands me the larger ring, while Griflet tells me to repeat after him.

“By mist and stone, by lake and hollow, I’ll walk with thee through light and shadow. I pledge to thee my sword and soul, two lives now joined, two halves made whole. Two hearts entwined, two fates aligned, with these words, to thee I bind.”

Talan slips the pale gold ring onto my finger, his gaze meeting mine. A strange, unexpected thrill ripples over me as he slides the ring into place, a power that seems to rise from the ground up, charging my body. In turn, I slide the ring onto his finger, and a faint smile warms his features. For a moment, I forget to keep up my shield against his magic. The veil in my mind thins, and a few glimmers of his thoughts slip through.

Night dwindles, midnight candles snuffing out. As day rises over the willows, russet light kisses morning dew drops, a golden breath of mist…

I gather the veil in my mind again, like storm clouds covering the sun.

Talan leans in closer, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he whispers, “I will bring you back to the castle. I will make sure that you are safe. But then, my princess, I’m afraid I have a traitor to find.”

CHAPTER 9

The return to the castle feels strangely somber, like a death march. It’s hard to be cheerful when you defy a ruthlessly cruel king, then trot back to his castle to tell him what you’ve done. If we’re going into battle, I do hope it will be more metaphorical than literal, though given the number of soldiers Auberon keeps around at all times, who knows.

Shivering, I ride with Talan on his horse. The cold wind nips at the bare skin of my thighs through the slits in the fabric. At least part of me is warm—Talan’s cloak is draped around me, the wool carrying his smoky, slightly spiced scent. He holds me firmly against him with one arm, his grip secure around my waist. His steely chest presses against my spine, warming me as we ride.

I glance behind us at Griflet on Clover. The cleric looks downright miserable. Now that the exhilarating effects of the bisen-root have worn off, it’s clear he regrets this plan. Nivene rides beside him, her brow furrowed. Her gaze flits to me, but whether she’s truly worried or simply playing a part, I can’t tell.

At the end of this winding road, the gates to Castle Perillos loom above crowded cottages. Shafts of sunlight break through the storm-gray clouds, casting the cobbled road in shadow.Today, the walls around Perillos seem to tower higher than ever. The gates, usually open wide, are shut tight. Soldiers stand in formation before them, their armor flashing in the sun.

As we approach, the soldiers snap to attention.

Instantly, Talan’s arm tenses against my stomach, and my breath quickens.

“Anything I should know?” I whisper.

He leans down, his breath warming the shell of my ear. “Only that my father might suspect I’ve been dismantling his plans during the night. But at this point? It’s too late for him to do anything about it.”

“Could this be considered treason?”

“That depends. Are we defining treason as ‘whatever the fuck the king says it is in the moment’?”

“I believe that’s his legal standard.”

“In that case, possibly. But since he only has one son left, I’m afraid he has to keep me around for the security of the realm. Bad luck for him, really.”

I glance back over my shoulder at our companions. Nivene and Griflet are behind us, their faces set like stone. Griflet has gone pale as milk.

As we draw closer, the soldiers draw their swords.

Talan’s thumb idly strokes my waist, slowly and lazily, like he has all the time in the world. It may be an unconscious gesture, but it still sends a warm ripple thrumming over my skin.

“You don’t mean to block our way, do you?” Talan’s deep voice rings out.

One of the soldiers, visibly trembling in his armor, steps forward. “The king’s orders, Your Highness. We were told to lock the gates to Perillos unless you returned alone. We are not supposed to let anyone else pass, king’s orders. We are, of course, delighted for your upcoming nuptials?—”

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