Page 114 of When the Sky Breaks

“What happened here?” Ansel asked.

“She’s sleeping with other men,” Guinevere replied, clambering to her feet and pressing herself dramatically to Ansel’s chest.

He just glared.

“We may have lied to you earlier,” Ansel said, pushing Guinevere back to arm’s length.

“You’re bleeding,” Neal said softly, stepping around them, immediately pressing a handkerchief to the wounds on my face.

“She hit me!” Guinevere’s tone grew somehow even more shrill.

“You two go,” Ansel instructed. “I’ll deal with her.”

“But she struck me!” Guinevere shrieked. “I have to tell the captain. The steward. Someone!”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Ansel’s voice dropped a register.

Fifty

Ansel

“Ilied,” I said, wedging my knife in the door handle so we wouldn’t be interrupted.

“You’re not really a cheese merchant?” Guinevere asked.

“She’s not my wife,” I said. “And no. I’m not importing cheese.”

“She still struck me!” Guinevere repeated.

“Best I understand it, you hit her first?” I replied sharply.

“Well she was . . .” Guinevere began. “She kissed him! And you said . . .”

“You were defending my honor?” I asked. “Because you thought my new wife was sleeping with other men behind my back?”

Guinevere nodded.

“I didn’t abandon my post when I left you. I went back to the Outer Court. I kept it running for decades while Cormac lost his mind in grief. He was killed in the field this winter. That girl is his daughter,” I said, voice low, deliberate. “She is your sovereign. She is carrying the heir to the Outer Court dynasty. And the man she just kissed? Her husband.”

“But you said . . .” Guinevere tried to protest.

“You just struck an Elven monarch over a misunderstanding about misplaced romantic fervor.”

“She’s the new High Lady?” Guinevere swallowed hard, face going pale. I just nodded, watching her reaction. “Am I going to die?”

I sighed, leaned back against the door. “You’re stupid not dangerous. So I think we’ll let it slide.”

Guinevere’s lower lip trembled.

“Thank you,” she said, voice cracking, tears leaking from her eyes. What the hell had I ever seen in this woman?

“But you’ll spread the narrative I tell you,” I said. “You did not see Cormac’s girl. You do not know where we’re going. And you slipped while drunk and hit your face.”

“Of course,” Guinevere blustered. “Of course.”

“And you owe us,” I said. “You owe her. You will provide us with your contact details and send updates any time it changes. And if we need help? We will call on you. And compliance will not be voluntary. Understood?”

Guinevere nodded, face wan beneath but flushed with panic across her cheeks.