A Crystal of Time (The School for Good and Evil The Camelot Years #2) - Soman Chainani Page 0,96

one of Japeth’s gruesome scims sealing her lips.

Tedros flushes red when he sees his mother in a maid’s outfit and the Snake’s slithering worm on her face, but Guinevere looks right at her son, her eyes smoldering. The glare disarms him as it does me. It’s the same look Lady Lesso used to give me before the Circus of Talents when Evil had a new trick up its sleeve.

Then I notice something in Guinevere’s hair. Tucked behind the ear, standing out against the white strands . . . a stray purple petal, unusual in shape.

A lotus petal.

Strange. Lotus blossoms don’t grow in Camelot. Nowhere near it. They only bloom in Sherwood Forest. . . .

But now the king approaches, his princess on his arm.

The crowd of leaders swivels to watch Rhian glide down the gold carpet, Excalibur on his belt, as he and Sophie make their way to the stage.

Rhian sees their faces, still stunned by the added executions, and he calmly stares back. That’s when I understand: this execution isn’t about Tedros or his allies. Not really. This is about threatening every leader here: if Rhian can cut off the head of Arthur’s son and Good’s Dean . . . then he can certainly cut off any of theirs.

The wind picks up, sweeping blades of grass across the hill. Sunlight spears past our shoulders, dawn anointing the copper-haired king and his princess with light.

Sophie grips Rhian like a crutch, her movement stooped and submissive. She’s wearing a white ruffled gown, even more prim than the maids’; her hair is tied back in a staid bun; and her face is bare and humble, though as she ascends the stage on Rhian’s arm and I get a closer look, I sense she’s painted herself to look that way.

As she takes her place beside Rhian at the front of the stage, she glances back at me, but there’s nothing in her eyes, as if the shell of her is here, but not her spirit.

I’m hit with déjà vu—

Not of Sophie, but Guinevere. That day I met her with her newborn son, when August was painting Tedros’ portrait. While Lady Gremlaine fixed her attentions on Arthur, her eyes so soulful, Guinevere was dead-eyed and distracted. As if she was only playing the part of Arthur’s wife.

Now Sophie has the same look as she holds on to a boy who is about to kill her friends and fellow Dean. Her gaze flits around the field, searching for someone. Someone she can’t find. Rhian senses her inattention. Instantly, Sophie’s demeanor changes: she gives him a doting smile, a caress of his arm.

I peer at her closely . . . then back at the lotus petal in Guinevere’s hair.

No doubt about it.

Skullduggery’s afoot.

Tedros studies me once more, knowing I’ve sleuthed something out—

Again that sting hits, telling me he’s the key to a happy ending. Like the mirror was to Agatha or the pumpkin I used to send Cinderella to the ball. It’s Tedros I need.

But for what! What am I supposed to do! What good is a sixth sense if we have no heads! I hold in a scream, my chest imploding—

Rhian clutches Sophie tighter as he addresses his audience.

“For a brief moment, after the Council meeting, I couldn’t find my princess.” He gives Sophie a look; her eyes glue to her dull, flat, highly suspect slippers. “Then I saw her, sitting calmly by the window. She said that she’d needed a moment to think. That she’d had the same doubts all of you had at the meeting. Was the school the enemy? Should you destroy your rings? Must Tedros die? But she’d looked you in the eyes and answered yes for a reason. I’d pulled Excalibur from the stone and Tedros hadn’t. That alone earned me the crown. For Tedros to no longer command the sword that he flaunted at school was proof that he was only a pretender.”

I see Tedros’ eyes flick to Sophie. He’s glowering at her the way he used to in class. Back when she was trying to kill him.

“But there was more, my princess said,” Rhian continues, Excalibur shining against his thigh. “She told me that Tedros was her friend. She’d even loved him once. But he’d been a poor king. He’d been the rot at Camelot’s core. Arthur’s will was clear: the one who pulls the sword is king. For Sophie to fight for Tedros even after I pulled the sword was to fight against Arthur’s will. To fight