A Crystal of Time. Soman Chainani
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“You and your brother use smoke and mirrors to infiltrate Camelot and steal the real king’s crown and you think you can get away with it?” Her blood boiled, the fury of a witch rekindling. “I don’t know what you did to trick the Lady of the Lake or what Rhian did to trick Excalibur, but that’s all it was. A trick. You can put my friends in jail. You can threaten me all you want. But people can only be fooled for so long. They’ll see who you two are in the end. That you’re a soulless, murdering creep and he’s a fraud. A fraud whose throat I’ll cut the second he shows his face—”
“Better get on with it, then,” a voice said as Rhian entered, barechested in black breeches, his hair wet. He glared at Japeth. “I told you I’d handle her.”
“And then you went for a bath,” said Japeth, “while she refuses to wear Mother’s dress.”
Sophie lost her breath. Not just because she had a storm of rage ready to unleash or because two brothers were dolling her up in their mother’s clothes, but because she’d never seen Rhian without his shirt before. Now as she looked at him, she saw his chest was just as ghost white as Japeth, while Rhian’s arms and face glowed a deep tan—the same tan that farmers in Gavaldon had after they wore shirts in the hot summer sun. Rhian saw her ogling him, and he gave her a cocked grin, as if he knew what she was thinking: even the tan had been part of the ruse to prevent anyone from seeing they were brothers, a ruse to make Rhian look like a golden Lion battling a cold-hearted Snake . . . when, in fact, the Lion and the Snake were perfect twins all along.
As Sophie stood there, taking in their matching smirks and sea-colored stares, she could feel a familiar fear—the same fear she’d felt when she kissed Rafal. No, this fear was sharper. She’d known who Rafal was. She’d chosen him for the wrong reasons. But she’d learned from her fairy tale. She’d fixed her mistakes . . . only to fall in love with an even worse villain. And this time, there wasn’t one of him, but two.
“Wonder what kind of mother could raise cowards like you,” Sophie snarled.
“Talk about my mother and I’ll rip out your heart,” the Snake spewed, launching for her—
Rhian held him back. “Last time. I’ll handle her.”
He pushed Japeth aside, leaving his brother stewing in the corner.
Rhian turned to Sophie, his eyes clear as glass.
“You think we’re the cowards? You were the one who said Tedros was a bad king. In fact, during the carriage ride to recruit the armies, you said I could do better. That you could do better. And here you are, acting as if you stood by your dear ‘Teddy’ all along.”
Sophie bared her teeth. “You set Tedros up. The Snake was your brother. You lied to me, you cockroach—”
“No,” the king slashed, hardening. “I didn’t lie. I never lied. Every single word has been the truth. I saved kingdoms from a ‘Snake,’ didn’t I? I pulled Excalibur from its stone. I passed my father’s test and for that, I am king, not that fool who failed his test again and again and again. Those are the facts. That speech I gave to the army in Camelot Hall: all of that was true too. It did take a Snake to bring forth the real Lion of Camelot. You loved me when I spoke those words then. You wanted to marry me—”
“I thought you were talking about Tedros!” Sophie screamed. “I thought he was the real Lion!”
“Another lie. In the carriage ride, I told you that Tedros had failed. That he’d lost the war for people’s hearts. That a real Lion would have known how to win. You heard me, Sophie, even if you don’t want to admit it. It’s why you fell in love with me. And now that everything I said would happen has indeed happened, you act as if I’m a villain because it isn’t exactly like you imagined. That’s cowardly.”
“I loved you because you pledged your loyalty to Tedros and Agatha!” Sophie fought. “I loved you because I thought you were a hero! Because you pretended to love me back!”
“Again. A lie. I never made such a pledge and I never said I loved you nor did you ask if I did,” said the king, moving towards her. “I have my brother. I have the bond of blood, which is forever. Love, on the other hand, is a figment. Look what it did to my father, to Tedros, to you—it made you foggy-eyed fools. So, no, I don’t love you, Sophie. You’re my queen for a reason deeper than love. A reason that makes me willing to risk having you by my side, despite your sympathy for an impostor king. A reason that will bond us more than love.”
“Bond? You think you and me can have a bond?” Sophie said, recoiling from him, knocking into a maid. “You’re a two-faced lunatic. You had your brother attack people so you could ride in to save them. You put a sword to my spine, you imprisoned my friends—”
“They’re still alive. Be thankful for that,” said Rhian, cornering her. “But right now, you’ve wedded your loyalty to the wrong king and the wrong queen. You’re blinded by friendship. Agatha and Tedros are not meant to rule the Woods. You and I are, and soon you will understand why.”
Sophie tried to move, but he took her damp palm in his. “In the meantime, if you behave and as long as it’s reasonable . . . ,” he said, softening, “the maids and cooks will grant any requests you have.”
“Then I request Tedros be freed,” Sophie spat at him.
Rhian paused. “I said ‘reasonable.’”
Sophie ripped her hand away. “If you are Arthur’s son, as you say you are, then Tedros is your brother—”
“Half-brother,” said the king coldly. “And who’s to say that’s true? Who’s to say he’s King Arthur’s son at all?”
Sophie gaped at him. “You can’t just mold the truth to fit your lies!”
“You think that Tedros shares our blood?” Japeth piped from the corner. “That whinging little tart? Unlikely. But maybe if you give Rhian an extra kiss tonight, he’ll poison the boy instead of chopping off his head.” He smiled at Sophie and flicked his tongue like a serpent.
“Enough, Japeth,” Rhian groused.
Sophie could see one of the maids shivering in the corner, head bowed. “I told the maids what you’ve done,” Sophie fumed. “They’ll tell the rest of the castle. They’ll tell everyone. That you’re no king. And that he’s no liege. That your brother’s the Snake. All of them know—”
“Do they?” the Snake asked, raising a brow at his brother.
“Doubtful,” said the Lion, turning to Sophie. “These were Agatha’s chambermaids, so their loyalty to me was questionable to begin with. Instead of letting them loose in the Woods, I gave them the choice between a swift death and serving me and my brother. Provided they endured one slight modification.”
Modification? Sophie couldn’t see their faces, but the five maids appeared healthy. No missing limbs or marks on their skin.
But then she saw the Snake’s eyes flash . . . that same insidious flash she’d witnessed whenever he’d done something especially Evil. . . .
Sophie looked closer at the maid nearest to her. And then she saw it. . . .
A long, thin scim sliding teasingly out of the maid’s ear, eely scales glinting in the lamplight, before it wedged right back in.
Nausea coated Sophie’s throat.
“Whatever you’ve told them fell upon deaf ears,” said Rhian. “And given that Japeth promised to restore them to their original condition only once they prove their loyalty to the new king, I’d doubt they’d listen to you anyway.”
He raised his finger towards the maids and the tip glowed bright gold. Responding to the signal, the maids quickly exited the room in a single-file line.
The same color as Tedros’