My world had been emptier then, too.
“Welcome back,” my golden knight said flippantly, flashing a smile that showed her gold-capped tooth. “Did you and Arran have that duel?” Her razor-sharp grin was edged with double-sided innuendo.
My heart gripped, but I forced myself to smile through it.
The corners of Lyrena’s mouth softened in response. It must have come out as a grimace.
“Where is Cyara?” I asked.
Lyrena nodded over my shoulder, to the door that connected my room to the shared sitting room.
I met her nod with a sharper one of my own. “We don’t have a round table, but we’ll make do with what we have. You get the food.”
The spread was impressive given the short notice. Lyrena must have charmed the terrestrials working in the kitchens. Not a surprise, really. It was impossible not to be charmed by that easy laugh and golden smile. It was part of what made her so formidable as a guard. She looked like she’d rather laugh than fight. And maybe that was even the truth. But she was deadly with the massive sword that hung at her waist, and anyone who underestimated her did not deserve my pity.
Right now, she was using her gilded golden teeth to rip into a yeast bun that looked like it was more air than dough. I held out the crock of honeyed butter to her before reaching for a roll of my own.
Cyara fluttered around us, pouring wine and fixing plates for Diana and Percival. I did not comment on the kindness as I dolloped a crushed tomato spread onto my roll, topping it with a thick slice of ham and an even thicker cut of cheese before taking a bite. I did not even try to restrain the audible groan of appreciation that spilled from my lips.
Lyrena shot the layered bun in my hand an appraising look, then reached for the tomato spread herself.
Cyara paused before each dish, glancing sideways. She was being very subtle, but I was much too attuned to food to miss the action. On the other end of that glance, Diana’s chin rose and fell, or twitched side to side, equally subtly. The potatoes mashed with cream and so much garlic it brought tears to my eyes? No. The slices of sweet red apple and soft, blue-veined cheese? Yes.
When those two plates were filled and delivered to the prisoners, only then did Cyara return to the small rectangular table and serve herself. I dabbed at my mouth with a napkin, took a long drink of my wine, and then crossed my arms. “Something you care to share, Cyara?”
She did not look up from buttering a roll of her own. “You called this meeting of the… Round Table, Majesty.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I have sent word to Baylaur and Wolf Bay, warning them of the threat of the succubus. Gwen will take the proper precautions, I have no doubt. As for those in Cayltay…”
Lyrena paused mid-bite. “You are the High Queen. They should listen to you without question.”
I laughed at that, wishing it were true. “If the directive came from Arran, maybe they would. But Cayltay is a long way fromBaylaur. My own court barely knew my face until a few months ago. I may technically rule the terrestrial kingdom, but without enforcement—”
“—they can do whatever they want,” Cyara finished. I almost missed the days when she kept her quiet observations to herself. “It is why there is usually a royal progress shortly after the Joining,” she added.
“I don’t have time for a progress, and I doubt Arran would willingly accompany me on one anyway.” I let that hang in the air for a few beats. Lyrena suddenly found her cutlery very interesting.
Cyara’s turquoise eyes held mine.
“Have you been speaking with Lady Elayne?” I asked, fingers tightening around my now empty wine glass.
“No. But it does not surprise me that she’s mentioned it.” I lifted my eyebrows for the rest of the explanation. Cyara pursed her lips, as if it should be obvious. “She’s been at the center of Annwyn’s politics for most of her life, against her will. She’d be wise to anticipate events such as the progress and their implications.”
First as the foretold mother of a child of unforeseen power, then as the mother of the Brutal Prince who eventually became king. Cyara’s point was clear—Elayne was a formidable ally. I had accepted her comfort and her advice, but I hadn’t thought to use her on the offensive. Arran would hate the idea—and probably me—for even proposing it.
I’d think more about that later.
“One thing at a time. We must give enough time for our missives to be delivered to Baylaur, and for Gwen to send a response.” The idea of sitting around and waiting made my legs twitch beneath the table. But Annwyn was a vast kingdom. Even with airborne terrestrials bearing my missives, it would take weeks to hear back. Though there was another way.
“You could go to Baylaur faster,” Cyara said, stealing the thoughts from my head. If I had not known better, I might have thought she was part of the Ethereal Prophecy with the way she always seemed to know what I was thinking.
I opened my mouth to respond, to excuse, but—
“She would be unguarded,” Lyrena cut in sharply. There was no food in her hand now, and her bright eyes were fixed on Cyara with a look of absolute reproach.
My handmaiden’s white wings shifted softly. “Go with her.”
