“Well, if I could remake the capons, I would change that.” Another egg rolls out from under my skirts. “See? They agree.”
“Moving on from the talk of remaking creatures great and small,” Hart says. “Where are we up to with research?”
Everyone looks at Gwyneth, because they all know I was super busy not researching anything but anatomy.
“The only thing I found was something not found.”
“Oh great, a riddle,” I grumble. “I’m not so good at negotiating straightforward talk, so I should be abysmal at this.”
Malachi slides an arm around my shoulders and pulls me and my meat platter closer. “We all have our strengths, Daphne. Yours is turning the rules on their heads and proving the impossible, possible.”
He makes me sound badass. I love him. It. I meanit.
Gwyneth grabs a book I hadn’t noticed from the floor and puts it on the table before flicking it open to a page with a colorful illustration of a lady hovering above a lake, offering the sword to a handsome knight.
“That’s hardly a revelation,” I point out.
“But it is,” Gwyneth declares. “Nowhere in the history or lore does it mention a broken blade. Yet your father had the hilt, and the Lady kept the sharp end of Excalibur.”
Silence stretches as my sister points out the obvious that no one else has picked up on, not even his own sons, who surely spent a lot of time with the man they call father.
“What does that mean?” I ask before shoving another bite of sausage into my mouth. All this pondering makes my gremlin grumble.
“My guess is he wasn’t worthy and somehow fooled the Lady into appearing, and then tried to pry the sword from her, snapping it in the process,” Hart theorizes.
“She could have said something while committing me to certain doom,” I grumble.
Nash spins the book around to face him. “Is he even a knight?”
Malachi nods at the book. “I can’t see how he couldn’t be. Only a knight can call to a Lady.”
“And Merlin,” I remind them of the old dead dude. “Because he duped the original Lady into falling for him.”
“That’s right, but I doubt our father is a Merlin in disguise,” Theo says.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because he is not a wizard. Plus, he wouldn’t have been able to produce a set of knights, including a dragon, if he wasn’t the chosen one.”
“But if he was worthy, he should have had the full sword in his grasp,” Gwyneth argues.
“So he’s a knight, but nottheknight,” Nash decides. “Perhaps he killed the worthy one, and our father was the best of a bad bunch, so the narrative and Idols had to make do?”
“That’s food for thought,” I add. “Or is it thought for food? That sounds so much better.”
“Are any of your uncles alive?” Gwyneth asks, ignoring my pondering on food being thoughts. If they are, then I hope they taste like sausages.
Nash rubs his fingers over his lips. I was certainly his food last night. “I don’t know,” he says.
“Do you need another taste to figure it out?” I ask.
He blinks at me. Whoops. This is why inside thoughts should be spoken aloud—because then, reactions would make sense. Now I sound like a basket case. He grins as he seems to put everything together that I’m not saying, and that is an impressive feat, considering I rarely know what’s happening in my own mind. “But if you are suggesting he killed the worthy knight to take his place, that makes little sense, because as soon as the worthy dies, the next knight steps up.”
“Unless they haven’t been born yet,” I point out. “Or perhaps the Idols are okay with a goat being in charge?”
“Goat?” Hart asks with a shake of his head. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“Maybe the real worthy knight is wasting away somewhere?” Theo adds, ignoring my goat theory. It’s not like they haveanything better to offer, so why not goats? They are cute and make milk and cheese. What’s not to like?
