Kingston nodded. “The Dread family winery has supplied The Quest with itsbougiewine for over three generations.”
Morty snorted. “Yep. Ever since the arranged marriage of Merle Dread to your tallest boo’s mother. The vineyard was her family’s, but they were drowning financially. When they joined the Camelot Society, they signed over all their assets and put everything in the Dread family’s name. Except the winery. It did get a nice little name change, though, and even though I’m not the firstborn from Merle’s”—he exaggerated air quotes with his fingers—“legitimate marriage, I am the oldest Dread heir and should be next in line to inherit it.”
“But it’s not passed down that way? Why not?”
“It was a stipulation of the betrothal that it’d be a gift to Max’s mother, and stay in her family line. It can only pass to her child through blood. Unless she couldn’t bear any. That would’ve changed things, butvoila!Max Dread was born.”
“And now he’s next in line to inherit it? But Max never?—”
Morty kicked the ground, scattering blades of grass with his fancy shoes. “He wants nothing to do with it.”
While I sensed I knew the answer, given what Kingston had shared about Max’s mother, I still asked to be sure. “Why?”
Morty shrugged, but I suspectedheknew the answer, too.
Kingston pieced it together. “Because he only inherits it if his mother dies.”
I pressed my eyes shut, as if that would ease Max’s internal struggle. Prior to coming to Camelot Court, I would’ve assumed that any child would choose their parent over an inheritance.
But I’d learned things weren’t so black and white here.
Glancing at Landon, who still stood rigid on the lawn, my heart clenched. Some children were presented with impossible choices, and even making the one Drake D’Arthur wanted, my White Knight had still lost his mother.
Max had chosen differently, saving his mother from the fate Drake had threatened back then, so now, he’d probably do anything to protect her. Give up anything. Even those fancy, astronomically priced bottles of wine.
Even if that inheritance set him up for life financially.
Because that winery remained tied to what he hated most—the Dread family and the Camelot Society.
While Morty glowered, Kingston’s wheels turned, and he put things together. “Morty should have been the son that my father brought to meet me. The one tested for my right and left hand, with sons from his year instead of Max and Landon’s.” Kingston’s brief glance at Landon tugged at my heart, but then he continued. “When my father delayed the test unexpectedly, I didn’t know why. But later, Max came instead.”
“Yeah.” Morty scoffed. “Well, baby bro stood to inherit something the Camelot Society couldn’t touch. You know how they feel about that. Keep your sons close but your money closer, right? I think it’s inscribed on the Camelot Court crest.”
I almost wanted to laugh. He wasn’t wrong.
Morty pinned me with his stare. “When your boo bear failed?—”
“By my father’s standards.” Kingston clarified.
Morty rolled his eyes. “I reclaimed the rights of being heir.”
“And for saving her, Max lost his mother anyway?” I balked, drawing in a shaky breath and looking at Kingston. “They killed her? For a bunch of overpriced wine?”
“Nope.”
My eyes flashed to Morty.
“He lost her, alright. But she wasn’t killed. That was the plan, I assume, but she disappeared before they could do it.”
Pieces clicked into place. Things Max had said, rumors I’d overheard or been told, and truths he’d shown me. Suddenly, why Max Dread despised Camelot Court became clear.
He’d chosen to save his mother during the test, but since Drake D’Arthur lost his chance to own something that didn’t belong to him, Max’s choice proved meaningless. Kingston’s father retaliated. She disappeared, lost to her son anyway.
“And Max learnedhewasn’t enough.”
I spoke the words more to myself than to the three of them, but then I turned to Landon.
“But you said no one leaves Camelot Court.”
