Page 293 of Kingdoms of Night

Enid studied the woman, looking for another way in. The truth was she’d never been good at games of subterfuge. She’d always remained in the shadows, silent as her father and his courtiers played at games of thorns. That wouldn’t work here in Camelot. What worked was being honest and asking for help.

"Geraint made a fae promise to me the day we met. He promised me his sword. I know that when he said it, he was offering me his protection, but a promise to a fae is taken literally. My father demands that I collect it.”

Loren inhaled and exhaled slowly. Enid thought she might have to repeat her words in a slower, more basic way. That was until she saw the calculation happening beneath Loren’s lashes.

“Gyges wants Geraint’s sword.”

“I can’t give it to him. It would be like stealing my husband’s honor.”

“So you were just going to steal another knight’s honor?” Loren inclined her head to the swords on the ground. “Why can’t you just tell Gyges no? He has something over you, doesn’t he?”

Enid didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Loren’s math added up.

“I realize you don’t know this about me, E, but you and I are going to be besties someday. Just like me and G.”

Enid frowned at the truncation of her name. It wasn’t as bad as Gerry. But she still wasn’t sure she liked it. “Isn’t Candor not speaking to you because you lied to him?”

Loren made a brushing motion with her hand. “Details, details.”

"Will you help me?"

Loren took a deep, dramatic breath. Her eyes rolled toward the ceiling, paused as she took in the garland, then she refocused on Enid and let out the breath. “Fine, but we have to tell Geraint."

"No.”

“Girlfriend, you see how he deals with liars.” Loren pointed at her chest. “Let me be a cautionary tale. If we're going to be soul sisters—"

"What's a soul sister?"

"—then you need to loop him in."

"If we loop him in, he would give Gyges his sword. That sword is his honor. It’s his life. I won't have him give that up for me."

Loren pursed her lips as she regarded Enid.

"Loren, promise me."

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Geraint reached into his closet and pulled out his formal robes. It was a big night for him. After years of training, his young charges were all deemed worthy of being knighted.

Typically, one or two failed the task. Not this time. Not even with his long absence. They had all passed muster thanks to his guidance. And not just in the ways of war, but also in the ways of courtly etiquette, fundamental chivalry, the knightly code of conduct, and the virtues of courage, honor, and honesty.

A pulsing red object caught Geraint’s eye in the corner of his closet. Reaching his hand out, he closed it around the Takrut. He let out a foul curse as he regarded his father-in-law’s gift. He’d completely forgotten to hand it over to Gwin so that it could be put in the castle’s vault.

At least this was a mistake he could remedy. He tucked the charm in his breast pocket and headed down to the ceremony. Even before he entered the hall, he caught his wife’s scent.

Enid’s floral aroma was all around the Great Hall. Geraint was having trouble focusing on the start of the ceremony as he took in that ambrosial fragrance. When he inhaled, there was that bitter undercurrent again. That whiff of something being off.

He searched the room for her… and found her standing beside Loren. The two had their heads bent together. Bright blonde and royal blue clashed as Loren turned to allow Enid to whisper in her ear. Then Enid dipped her head so that Loren could respond.

Geraint took a step toward the two women, but something held him back. Gawain’s gaze was narrowed on him. He jerked his head to the side in a motion that Geraint should be moving in the opposite direction.

Looking up, Geraint saw that it was his time to take his place in the ceremony. His body wanted to go in one direction. But his duty compelled him to turn his back on the scene with his wife and Loren.

Baysle, Maurice, and Yuric stood before Arthur and Lance. The young men were decorously attired in their family colors and full regalia. Their proud smiles wavered under their nervousness.

“Squires,” said Arthur, his voice booming in the large room, “come forth and kneel before the brotherhood.”

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