My brow furrowed, and I glanced at him beside me before fixing my stare resolutely ahead.
“It was never a question of who would get the first and final seats at my Round Table. Not since that day at my father’s.”
“Yeah, your bestie got the top spot. No one saw that coming.” I snorted. “And another surprise, I got the last.”
“Yes, as my right hand, Landon was always going to be in the first seat.”
“The one on your left. Which makes no sense.”
“No?” Waiting until I frowned, he explained, “Traditionally, the right-hand man sits on the left, leaving the King’s dominant hand open for defense.”
“Of course.” I snorted. “So you put me there believing I was the most likely to attack you? I can’t say you’re wrong, but how is this making your point? Whatever the hell that is.”
He shook his head, an apology in his eyes. “No, Max. The seat on a King’s right is also a seat of power. The person who sits there is one he trusts will never betray him. The person on theleft, traditionally the non-dominant hand, is trusted as the one strong enough to defend the King’s weak side.”
“Landon?” I scoffed.
Kingston shot me a pointed look. “I will disregard your tone there because no, not Landon. Max, I’m left-handed.”
My jaw worked as I unraveled his meaning.
He’d put us in the traditional spots. His right-hand man seated on his left the way tradition dictated, and he put me on his right.
But for him, his left side was dominant, and he’d placed Landon there because he trusted him to never betray him.
I narrowed my eyes on his face.
“Yes,” he said quietly, following my train of thought. “My right side is my weaker side, and I trusted you to defend it.”
“But you knew that I wouldn’t,” I snapped, annoyed with myself for getting worked up over the way he spoke in fucking riddles. “I’d already shown you that. If it came down to it, I’d stab you in the back.”
“Yes.” He unclasped his hands and ran his palm over his shirt. “But you were the only person, aside from Landon, who I trusted would defend me as long as you possibly could. Who wouldn’t betray me unless it was absolutely necessary. And if you did”—he stopped walking and put his hand on my arm, pulling me to stop—“it would be for love.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Only one obstacle stood between me and the end.
As I approached the large man-made structure the Knights had erected, apprehension swirled in my belly. My footsteps stuttered as I got closer, distracted by the small crowd. All the parents had gathered around the obstacle to watch as we finished the course.
Landon manned the entrance, and he must’ve moved to cover the second obstacle once all the girls made it through his first. He nodded as I stepped up, his face stoic and more tense than when I’d last seen him.
“Maiden.” He cleared his throat, his eyes darting to the left where most of the parents stood.
I didn’t follow his gaze.
“You’ll enter here, and climb to the top. Your final cypher waits there. Then you’ll need to make it back down safely before you can ring the bell.”
My brow creased, and he glanced over his right shoulder to show me what he meant.
Drake D’Arthur stood about twenty feet from the terrace with the lemon tree, off to the right of it and beside a wooden pole that had been planted in the ground.
Sunlight glinted off a small metal bell near the top.
As I watched him, a man I’d never seen but who looked familiar approached him and stepped up to his left side.
With dark hair, the same angular bone structure, and the position he took beside Drake, I only needed one guess as to who he was. “Your father.”
Landon nodded. “Once the last girl begins the course, I need to go speak with him. But I’ll find you after, alright?”
