One True Queen (School for Good and Evil Book 2)

Chapter 23

At Rhian's insistence, the six of us were crammed into one carriage instead of taking two.

Willam and Bogden studied four tarot cards, laid out in Bogden's lap. Hort peaked over Bogden's shoulder at them.

Sophie, Rhian, and I were seated across from them.

Rhian focused intensely on the two boys across from them. Meanwhile, Bogden and Willam kept giving Sophie anxious peeks.

All in all, I thought the entirety of this was a complete waste of time, but Rhian was adamant to continue.

"It's a yes-or-no question," the king said, his teeth clenched. "So let's have the answer. For the last time: Is my brother trying to kill me?"

Bogden looked at Willam, waiting for Willam to say something.

Willam looked at Bogden, waiting for Bogden to say something.

Bogden looked back at the cards. "Well, Tower and Judgment side by side . . . that means there's bad blood between you and your brother. And the Empress card suggests a female involved . . ."

"Obviously," Rhian muttered, eyeing Sophie.

"Not her," Willam countered.

Rhian's eyes slid to me. I glared back.

"Not her, either," Willam said, fingering the Empress card. "Someone further back that made you and Japeth distrust each other. Add the Death card into all this . . . and there's, um, only one conclusion . . ."

He and Bogden exchanged fretful glances.

"Well, what is it?" Rhian snapped.

Bogden gulped. "One of you will kill the other."

"Only there's no way to know who," Willam croaked.

Rhian looked startled for a moment, even a little . . . scared.

"Oh, please," I snapped. "This is ridiculous. Rhian, I expected better from you than believing in little boys' fake prophecies." I turned to Willam and Bogden. "You two really are as daft as Sophie promised. The second we return, you'll be thrown back into the dungeons." My eyes shot to Hort. "You too, since you vouched for these fruit flies. In the meantime, you three will be locked here during the Blessing. The smell of you alone is good reason to have you out of sight."

I glowered at Sophie, daring her to protest.

But all she did was turn and stare out the window, her eyes welling.

***

The streets were crammed, five bodies deep, manic and unruly. A beautiful nymph with mint-green skin patterned with silver stars waved a sign: "ASK ME MY STORY, KING RHIAN!" while a hideous, furry creature held his own: "ME MUM'S A CAT, ME DAD'S A TROLL . . . WANT ME TALE? COME DOWN ME HOLE!"

Everywhere I looked, ordinary citizens clamored for Lionsmane to tell their tales.

I allowed myself a small smile.

Rhian's and my promise had come true: a new pen had become the Woods' guiding light.

Now Evers and Nevers wore the same Lion masks and hats and shirts and waved cheap replicas of Lionsmane. Others flashed signs with the names of Tsarina and Hristo, newly minted stars in the Woods. A gang of teenagers, Good and Evil, hooted as they lit stacks of the Camelot Courier on fire: the one touting Agatha and her "Army." Nearby, a delegation from Budhava sang a "Hymn to the Lion," tossing roses at Rhian's window. Guards in Camelot uniforms patrolled the road, keeping the mob from the carriage, and a fleet of maids in white dresses and bonnets handed out books while the crowd flapped at me, trying to get my attention. These storybooks seemed to glow under the black storm clouds, with lettering outlined in rubies and gold.

Bewildered, I slid down my window and snatched one out of someone's hands, quickly pushing the window back up. I gaped at the cover.

"THE TALE OF THREE GIRLS: As Told by Lionsmane."

I flipped through and saw the entire fairy tale had been retold from Rhian's perspective, with beautifully drawn illustrations in blue and gold that resembled the rug in the Throne Room. The short storybook was scant in details, but offered the broad tale of a humble boy, growing up in a small house in Foxwood with his brother Japeth, the two of them watching from afar as the legend of me, Agatha, and Sophie spread. Despite his allegiances to Good, Rhian always found himself rooting for me, a girl he found bold and beautiful and clever, and against Agatha and Sophie, a self-righteous know-it-all and a self-centered brat. But in the end, it was Agatha who had the happy ending, claiming the throne of Camelot with Tedros, while Sophie slept away in her glass coffin and I went on living alone without my love, whom my best friends had killed in cold blood.

That is where everyone thought the story ended, including Rhian . . .

. . . until three shadowy women came to his house in the night and told Rhian the truth: that he was the real heir to Arthur and the One True King, destined to rule the Woods forever. And not only that, he'd been right about me, the women revealed: it was I who deserved to be queen of Camelot, not Agatha. It was I who deserved someone to ease the ache of losing Rafal. Agatha and Tedros, meanwhile, were fiendish usurpers who would bring shame to Arthur's kingdom and destroy the Woods. It was up to Rhian and me, as the rightful rulers, to stop them.

Rhian didn't believe any of this. But the women had more to tell.

Soon the day would come when Rhian must leave his old life behind, they said. On that day, the sword would return to a stone, waiting for the One True King to free it. And he was that One True King, and must take me to be his One True Queen.

How could any of this be real? Rhian thought.

But just as the women promised, the day arrived when Excalibur returned to the stone. Rhian couldn't rest until he knew if it was true . . . if he was really King Arthur's son . . . if he was the righteous ending to my story instead of Agatha or Tedros . . . if Excalibur had returned to the stone because of . . . him.

From there, the story proceeded as I had lived through it, but slightly. . .embellished: Rhian as the Lion saving kingdoms from a deadly Snake . . . Tedros' jealousy growing towards the Lion . . . me accepting Rhian's ring, uniting Evil and Good . . . Rhian freeing the sword from the stone. . . . And now I was on the last page, gazing at a painting of Tedros and Agatha beheaded bloodily as I kissed Rhian, the two of us in our wedding clothes as Lionsmane glowed like a star above our heads. . . .

"THE END."

"You could have left the kiss out," I muttered to Rhian.

"If the people are to trust in us, they need to believe there is romantic love between us," Rhian whispered back. "Even if we care about each other as nothing more than friends."

Still, I had to hand it to Rhian. This was smart.

If the people of the Woods were reading this, then any last sympathies for Tedros and Agatha would be gone.