A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,161

to get me a message under your friend’s nose. And yet, you still don’t know why you’re here. Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought.”

If there was one thing Sophie despised, it was being called stupid.

“Oh?” she said cuttingly. “I know who your mother is. I know all about her. I know how you came to be born. Do you?”

Rhian snorted. “You don’t know the slightest thing about my mother.”

Sophie gave him a cold stare. And suddenly, as if her thoughts were making it happen, her dress shape-shifted again. This time, the lace ruffled tighter, tighter, pinching in at every corner, before the ruffles began to quiver in unison, like a thousand gossamer wings. The white wings flapped harder, a little head poking out between every pair, as if about to take flight. A shot of color appeared at Sophie’s breast, like a stab wound, which bled outwards, covering these tiny winged creatures in rich, brilliant blue, the dress on her body now transformed into a dress so familiar, a dress once worn by her enemy, a dress made out of . . . butterflies. An army of them, blue as sapphires, rippled and flowed as she breathed in and out, their heads rising and falling with her heartbeat, as if the dress was no longer fighting her or binding her, but obeying her.

Rhian’s eyes went big, his skin as pale as his brother’s.

Then in an instant . . . the butterflies vanished.

The dress melted back to white lace.

Sophie arched a brow at the king.

“Oh, I know more than you think,” she said.

25

SOPHIE

Rhian and the Real Thing

“My mother was a secretive woman,” said Rhian, taking off his shirt. “I know very little about her time as your Dean.”

With cloud cover cooling the garden and the king increasingly limp, they’d returned to the veranda. Maids brought Rhian fresh bandages and creams for his wounds, which he now applied to his bare torso, grimacing and struggling to reach.

Sophie sat next to him.

Do I kill him?

Do I not kill him?

After everything Rhian had just told her, she didn’t know if he was Good or Evil anymore. If he was lying or telling the truth. If he should live or die.

But one thing was still true.

His brother had to die.

Kill Japeth and the worst Evil would be gone.

Kill Japeth and Rhian might leave Evelyn Sader in her grave.

Kill Japeth and maybe she could let Rhian live.

Maybe.

But what about Tedros?

Rhian had to die or Tedros couldn’t retake the throne.

Presuming Tedros should retake the throne.

But what if Rhian was right?

What if Rhian would be the better king?

He was the real heir, after all.

And just because Agatha and Tedros were Sophie’s friends didn’t mean Tedros should rule Camelot. Nor had Tedros ever talked about his people or why he should be king with the same passion that Rhian showed her.

What if being the One True King is Rhian’s destiny? Sophie thought, stiffening. What if his having the Storian’s powers could bring lasting peace to the Woods? What if it could stop Evil forever, just as he promised?

Then killing Rhian wasn’t the Good thing to do.

Killing Rhian would be Evil.

Sophie’s heart shriveled.

And I’m Evil.

Is that why the crystal showed her murdering him?

Because her soul wanted her to do an Evil deed?

Because it wanted her to be a witch?

Rhian wrestled awkwardly with a bandage—

“Oh, I’ll do it,” Sophie sighed.

Rhian eyed her tentatively . . . then lay back. She kneeled by his side and wrapped the cloth around his ribs. He flinched at the coldness of her touch.

First things first, she told herself.

Rhian kills Japeth.

That part of the script hadn’t changed.

Which meant she had to find their weak spot.

That thread of mistrust she could unravel.

“Tell me about her,” she said, rubbing cream into a bruise on his shoulder. “Your mother.”

“Japeth inherited her magic, unlike me,” said Rhian, eyes closed, trying not to wince. “I must be like my father. Who my mother never, ever brought up. We knew not to ask. But I had my suspicions.”

“Such as?”

“There was the old card with Camelot’s seal I found in my mother’s room, inviting her to dine at the castle. ‘Looking forward to seeing you,’ it said, in the king’s own hand. I was obsessed with Camelot like every young Everboy, so imagine my excitement. My own mother knew King Arthur? My own mother once dined with the king? But when I asked her about the card, she punished me for snooping in her things. Then there was the way she