Page 37 of Lady of the Lake

“Of course I did. What Ididn’texpect is for you totellme that you are breaking the deal. That’s something only a stupid person would do.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I don’t want to murder my father, and maybe I’m sick of lying to everyone. And you seem…” I hesitate.

His expression sharpens. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He seems lonely, and he’s also one of the only people who know the truth about me.

I pull my cloak tightly closed. “I will come here again, but I want us to be honest with each other. We’re family.”

A line forms between his eyebrows. “Idiotic sentimentality. That’s your human half talking.”

“Perhaps.” I shrug. “But maybe it’s my better half.”

“Wait,” he says.

“I’m not going to help you, Mordred,” I say without turning.

“I know. This is a warning. You are going back to Brocéliande. Danger waits for you there. Never let your guarddown. Make no mistake, it is not your home. This, here, is your home.”

I step into the portal, knowing that he’s right. Brocéliande is not my home, but neither is Avalon Tower anymore.

CHAPTER 17

Two weeks after I nearly killed my father, I ride with Talan toward a banquet, dressed in a gown of sheer golden silk. Today, astride horses in the frost-kissed countryside, marks one of the first times I’ve seen him since I returned from Avalon Tower.

As our horses take us closer to Lord Aedan’s castle, I grip the reins tightly, the cold biting through my silken gloves despite the sun. It doesn’t help that I’m basically naked beneath my cloak. This morning, Jasper dressed me in a gown so delicate that it might as well be made of fog.

By my side, Talan rides his black stallion, Maponos, a creature as forbidding and powerful as its master. With his dark hair and midnight-blue suit, Talan’s broad form devours the light. Despite the frosty bite in the air, he doesn’t seem to feel the chill.

Steam evaporates with Clover’s every breath as her hooves crunch in the snow.

“What do I need to know about Lord Aedan?” I ask.

Talan glances at me, and the wind toys with his dark hair. “His lands are among the richest in Brocéliande, and his soldiers supply about a fourth of the entire Fey army.”

“I remember him.” Back at Castle Perillos, he seemed severe, silent.

“He prides himself on his unpredictability. I let him believe it, which is how I stay ahead of him.” His lips quirk in a half smile. “He poisoned three of his mistresses, two of his wives, and a neighboring lord, along with his entire family.”

“That’s a lot of poison.”

“The man loves his poisons.”

My gaze follows a low-flying hawk as it arcs through the air. “And what are his parties like?”

Talan’s fingers absently brush Maponos’s mane. “He throws a large, ostentatious banquet about once a year. I usually find an excuse to avoid it.”

“Because you don’t want to get poisoned?”

“No, frankly, poison would be a mercy once he starts droning on about his alleged hunting conquests. I can appreciate his penchant for murder, and his dreams are delightfully depraved, but his conversational skills are literal torture. Though the rumors are that he’s started to burn a magical aphrodisiac at his parties just to liven things up. He dreams of having parties like those in the old days of Avalon, when the gods of pleasure reigned.”

“Sounds like something you would like.”

“Except that I happen to loathe Aedan,” Talan adds, his voice lowering.

“Come on, then. I’m royalty now, and I demand that you give meallthe gossip.”

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