Chapter Five
Daphne
You’d think after staring down death and conquering it, the horses would no longer scare Murderous Maiden Daphne Stone. You’d be wrong. They were still huge, terrifying, with eyes that bore into your soul and teeth that could rip off your face.
The amused stable boy leans against the wall as I talk with the steed that is going to carry me to my knights.
“Here’s the deal, Lorraine,” I start. Yes, I’m aware of the unusual name for a horse, and I’m hoping that means she’s less horse and more person, reducing the likelihood of her eating any part of my body.
It would be such a waste after my resurrection.
“I will feed you copious carrots and apples, and you will take me carefully but at a fast pace to the knights’ kingdom. ”
She rolls her lips and blows in my face. I side-eye the stable boy. “What does that mean?”
He shrugs. “How would I know? She’s a horse.”
I love it when a professional knows less than nothing about their chosen profession. His is simple—understand the horses and translate them to terrified yet murdery maidens.
I twist my lips to the side and retrieve a carrot from the satchel hooked over my shoulder. Lorraine snatches it from my hands and chomps in a happy, contented manner while I stare at said hand and marvel at the fact my fingers are still attached. Wonders will never cease.
I have no idea how to mount the gigantic beast without the aid of a knight. The stable boy looks like he’d struggle to lift a pail of water, never mind a maiden. Noticing my reluctance, he tuts and grabs a stepping stool from the side before positioning it beside the horse.
Squaring my shoulders, I stride up the two steps and throw my leg over her back, and launch myself up and over. Look at me go. Oops. And go…
The stable boy mutters something under his breath before dashing to the opposite side and preventing me from toppling to the floor.
His hands grip my leg, and I get myself balanced.
Wow, it’s high up here, even more so when you’re riding alone without a knight to steady you.
I could go on foot, but according to the time-obsessed rabbit, I’d be late and then the kingdom would be doomed.
I grab the reins and make a clicking noise I’ve heard Nash using. Lorraine doesn’t move.
“Try tapping her sides with your heels,” the stable boy advises.
I gasp. “I will not kick the terrifying creature.”
He rolls his eyes. So much sass for someone so young. “Not kick. A light tap to let her know you are ready to go.”
Right. I lift my feet to the sides and bounce them against her flanks. She huffs and strides forward. Yes, I am doing this. We will be there in no time at all.
Lorraine picks up the pace through the courtyard before I realize something essential.
I shout over my shoulder at the stable boy, “Which way do I go?” I get lost in a castle with arrows carved into the walls.
I’ll end up in the far reaches of So Far Away with my villainous friends before I reach the knights.
I wonder how they are getting on with their self-worth.
He shakes his head. “Trust your horse and ask some folks if you feel lost.”
Right, because I’m supposed to know the difference between friendly and feral fairy-tale folk?
Lorraine powers forward. Okay, I have a crazy mare leading the way. She’ll protect me from the feral people.
I miss my mirror man, my capons, and Genie. And for sure, Sir Sweeps-A-Lot. That sword, however, can take a walk. Lorraine the noble steed can take his place.
“So,” I say as the breeze whips my hair around my face. “I have an opening for a nonverbal, judgy sidekick. Are you interested?”
She neighs in what sounds like a no. I’m offended.
“It comes with perks,” I coax. “Your life will never be the same. I can guarantee chaos and giggles.”
No sale. Fine, I’ll convince her with my actions.
She takes a left, and I think I recognize the town as we thunder through the dark streets.
“I hope you know where you’re going.” Lorraine almost flattens a small child carrying a brown sack.
“Sorry,” I shout over my shoulder. “Murderous maiden on a mission. I can’t be stopped. ”
Well, I’m sure I could stop. It’s my new horse that is a force of nature.
“I think I like you,” I say, my hair slapping my face as I white-knuckle the saddle. People dive out of our path, their curses swept away by the wind.
My back aches, my butt aches, even my arms ache. Riding is no effortless task. Lorraine doesn’t slow, doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t take directions. I have to trust in the magic to get me where I need to be. That is, after all, what brought me back.
The air becomes dense, as if it’s suffocating under a weight of sadness.
The familiar castle comes into view, but this is not the kingdom I remember.
People shuffle where they once danced. Whispers instead of laughter thread into the fabric of the world.
Black fabric flutters against the doorways, marking grief.
Surely this cannot still be them mourning Arthur?
They seemed rather buoyant on the day of his death.
A sob catches in my throat. Who died to warrant such an outpouring? It had better not be any of my knights. I will track down all Idol scum and make them into sausage meat if they touched a single hair on their pretty heads.
Lorraine slows as we approach a raised iron gate opening into the inner castle courtyard. Two guards move into our path, their swords crossing, barring the way. “No one is to enter on account of the coronation,” one guard declares.
Lorraine shifts side to side with restless energy.
“I’m here for the coronation,” I say.
“It’s about to begin. Wait until after.”
Nope. I lean down closer to Lorraine’s ear.
“Are we doing this?” She huffs. I’ll take that as a yes.
I bump her flanks with my boots, but she turns and gallops in the opposite direction.
“Er, no. I seriously thought we were on the same page.” Damn it.
I’m going to have to throw myself off a fast-moving equine. This is going to hurt.
She turns in a tight circle and races back toward the guards. A wide grin spreads across my face. “Now we’re talking.” I lean into her. I like to think I’m helping, but I’m concentrating on not falling off.
The guards look at each other. Don’t you dare stab my horse.
Lorraine speeds up, her hooves like thunder.
The guy on the left ducks out first. What a mellow.
The one on the right holds his position for a split tempo before diving out of the way.
We blast our way through the empty courtyard and straight to the stables.
I’m so confused. How does she know where she’s going?
An older guy looks up from his perch on a stool, a book in his hand. “Lorraine?” he asks.
Oh my Idols, my horse is famous. Damn straight—she’s an equine legend.
He stumbles to his feet, a frown on his face as he catches the reins. “How did you find her?” he asks.
I tilt my head as I wait for Lorraine to explain how she found me. The man stares at me with a raised brow. “Oh, you mean me? Long story. I was dead, now I’m not, and I need to get to my knights before they get coronated.”
He blinks. “Daphne?”
“Yes?” I mutter as if I’m unsure. I feel like myself, so there’s that. If you forget who you are and convince yourself you are someone different, and they are dead, does that mean you are now them? I’m confused. Did I steal my dead self’s identity? If so, where have I been?
“Quick,” he demands. “I need to take you to them.”
Finally, someone who understands the urgency of the situation. I dismount in the least graceful move ever. Lorraine sticks her nose in my satchel and steals a crunchy apple with a haughty look to rival any princess.
I take a step and cry out at the pain radiating everywhere. I don’t think I’m cut out for lengthy rides. Just mini ones.
“Here, let me help you,” the guy says, offering me a hand.
I clutch it and together we hobble through a door into the castle. The hallways are empty, but the deeper we go, the louder the noise grows, and then suddenly it goes silent.
“Is it too late?” I whisper.
“Nope, we will get you there in time. There is some pompous wordage beforehand. The questions about your resurrection can wait. We all recognize why they are falling apart, and we fear what will become of us if he’s crowned in anger, not love.
The prevailing feeling when the crown first settles upon a king’s head dictates the tone of the rule.
We just got rid of one ruler who suffocated our people; we don’t want another. ”
We quicken our steps until we are outside the familiar doors of the great hall where I once both seduced the last king and slaughtered him.
“Are you ready?” the kind older man asks.
I straighten my spine and hold my head high. “Yes.”
He thumps his fist on the door, and it swings open.
I step inside, and the hushed crowd turns to face me.
They blink, some gasp, others tilt their heads like they’re trying to place me.
But my gaze narrows on the throne on the raised dais, and the knight whom I love with all my heart sitting on it, ready to welcome in an era of coldness and anger at the Idols who set him on this path.
Hart jerks to his feet, and Malachi and Nash rush to his side. For a heartbeat, we stare. I want to wrap them in my arms and tell them I’ll never leave again, not in this life or the next, but we have a vast audience.
“What is the meaning of this?” a guy in a white robe and a huge pointy hat bellows. He holds the crown between his hands while glaring at me. “Lady of the Lake?”
Who? I look around. Oh, right. I shake my head. “Not anymore.”
Hart, Malachi, and Nash jerk back as if I’d slapped them. I brace myself to be surrounded by their love that will chase out the cold and strangeness lingering in my bones.
My sister steps in front of them and covers her mouth with both her hands, tears brimming in her eyes.
“It’s not her,” Hart snarls. “Take this imposter to the dungeon. I will deal with her myself after the coronation.”
What?
The old man who led me here raises his hands as guards rush toward us. “I believe this is the Daphne Stone.”
The? Wow, my death heightened my importance. Typical. No one appreciates you until you’re gone.
Gwyneth’s hands drop, and she squints as if she’s trying to work me out. “You’re my sister,” I snap. “You, at least, should recognize me.”
Everyone’s heads swivel between us as they wait. “Well?” Malachi snaps.
I blink. He never snaps.
“I’m uncertain,” Gwyneth whispers.
“You are too emotionally involved,” Hart snarls. “Take the imposter to the dungeons and put Miss Stone in the cell opposite so she does nothing stupid.”
A guard reaches for Gwyneth, and I barrel forward. “Don’t you dare touch my sister,” I growl. My feet slide on the polished marble floor, and my arms cartwheel, knocking a woman’s head—which promptly falls into my hands as I bounce on the floor. I blink at the mop of red hair between my hands.
“Did I behead someone?” I whisper. “Please tell me her head was loose, and it wasn’t my fault.” My eyes flick to my sister and the three knights. “And where is my dragon?”
“How would she know that?” Malachi mutters. I mean, the head is in my hands. It’s not difficult to work out.
Nash’s gaze narrows. He holds a hand up to the guy in the white robe who is creeping closer with the crown like he’s going to toss it onto Hart’s head while he’s not looking. “Merlin, wait.”
“Oh, hey. You’re Merlin? I met your original descendant. He’s stuck at the bottom of the ocean.”
“And how in the Blazes would she know that?” Gwyneth adds.
“Because, much to the disappointment of everyone here, but to the happy ears of Wonderland, I am indeed me.”
Hart’s lips thin as everyone waits for his command. I drop the head and climb to my feet while dusting off my hands. “There’s no blood, so I’m pretty sure she was pretending to be alive. Unlike me. I saved you from the dead chick doing whatever it is dead chicks do at coronations.”
“I’m becoming more and more convinced,” Nash says.
“You are the dead chick,” Malachi says.
“No, I was. There’s an enormous difference. Ask the All Knowing. He was a bit cagey, but I think he knows more than he’s letting on, you know?”
Someone snatches the head off the ground with a snarl. “That’s mine.” My eyes widen at the furious bald woman who slams the wig back on her head. Oh, thank the Idols. The murderous maiden has yet to claim her first kill.
“Our chambers, now,” Hart growls.
“The king’s chambers?” Merlin asks as he hovers with that damn crown.
“No,” Hart snarls with a look that would terrify me if I didn’t know it shielded a squishy interior.
Malachi and Nash jump down from the stage, grab an arm each, and haul me backward out of the great hall with Gwyneth and Hart stalking our every step. Charming appears out of the crowd. Ugh, is he still after my sister’s floof? I hate this guy.
Nash leans down to whisper in my ear. “You better start praying to whatever Idol you worship.”
I twist my head to meet his gaze. “I just convinced you I’m Daphne.”
He grins. “I know.”
I swallow at the darkness shifting beneath the surface. “Threefold,” I whisper.
He winks.
Holy Idol babies.