Page 196 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

She removed it, running her thumbs over the intricate metal work. “How’d you do it?”

“Magic is easier right now,” he said with a shrug. “Give it a day and I’ll be scrounging for summer magic.”

She’d been ignoring the approaching solstice, uncertain what exactly was going to happen this year. She didn’t want to ask. She didn’t want to know. And yet she couldn’t.

“How does it normally work? The Oak and Holly King battle. Are you always together?”

“No. Almost never. The magic releases and one of us is weakened regardless of whether the fight is physical.”

“I’ve read all the books about it,” Kierse said. “The scant few I could get my hands on, at least. They didn’t really explain how this started.”

Lorcan turned back toward the throne. “That is a story for another day, I’m afraid. I don’t have the patience for it today.”

“Is the Oak Throne also part of being the Oak King?”she asked, staring up at the massive thing.

“No. I was the Oak King first,” Lorcan told her. “The throne is for the ruler of the Druids. Only I can sit on it.” His eyes flicked back to her. “And my queen.”

“So why aren’t you in Dublin, then?” She glanced up at the throne. “Why isn’t the tree in Dublin?”

Lorcan flicked his eyes to her. “You know why.”

Graves. He was here to watch the Holly King.

He sank back into the throne, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring down at her with those imperious eyes. “And why areyouhere? Don’t you have a big party tomorrow?”

Why was she even surprised that he knew?

“Yes, I’m aware you’re going after the cauldron,” he said with a shrug. “I won’t interfere. Though you shouldn’t give it to him. As if that really needs to be said.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Last I checked, I don’t take orders.”

“I wasn’t giving any. I know what he wants from the cauldron, what he wanted from the spear, what the sword refused him.”

Kierse refused to be baited. “Do you keep the sword in that vault? Is that why you showed it to me?”

“Would I be that stupid?”

“Yes,” she teased.

He leaned backward, smirking. He draped his hands over the armrests, and now he looked every inch the Oak King. As if he might crumble mountains with a look and bring her to her knees with a second. “Go open it and find out.”

“Another day, perhaps.”

“Looking forward to it.”

He returned to his slumped position, lying across the throne as if it weren’t full of magic and sacred to his people.

She should have walked away then. Let him mope, or whatever was going on with him. But her feet carried her up the dais, where she set the golden crown down on the armrest.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked.

“Are you suggesting that you care?”

“I’m the only one here.”

He laughed sardonically. “Ringing endorsement.”

Kierse couldn’t help it; she smiled. A real smile. It was like seeing behind the curtain. For the first time, he wasn’t showing her the smooth and suave leader of the Druidic Order. He wasn’t trying to seduce her or win her over. He was irritated and a little petulant. She kind of liked it.

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