Knight of the Goddess (Blood of a Fae, #4)

by Briar Boleyn

The words written on the stone which held the sword Excalibur.

The part was left out that Orcades has said was there that she scratched out…

Though it did mean less alone time for the two of us. More waking at night to the plaintive cries of an infant. But Medra was motherless. Parentless. I would not resent her for her demands.

The mere fact that you’re bringing it up says otherwise… why even mention it?

“Isn’t that the sort of thing everyone always says about babies?” I smirked but eyed my niece nonetheless.

Then he looked at me, and his expression shifted. “What’s wrong?” His voice had taken on a tinge of concern. I shook my head. “It’s nothing.” “It’s not nothing.” He reached forward and touched my skin, just below my breastbone. “You’re clammy. You’ve had night chills. What was it? A dream?”

This was a poorly done edit. Didn’t he walk across the room to the crib? When did he walk back close enough to touch her? Or to see that she’s clammy?

I told him briefly, careful to leave out the dream’s conclusion. Where I had decided to simply... give myself up to Kaye. To surrender.

That’s your typical M.O. though so he knows… the very weak heroine readers are supposed to rally behind.

“And there’s nothing we can do,” I said hollowly. I sat by his bed for hours each day, speaking to him, reading to him. But it was pointless.

He’s tied to the cup now, like you are tied to Excalibur. Even I realize that from what Guinevere said last book, how come you are such an idiot. The chalice likely has something to do with the solution since it caused it, but you’re wasting days sitting by his bed, talking and reading. Idiot. Not a single intelligent bone in her body…

“Knowledge doesn’t always equal happiness, Draven. You know that,” I said, bitterness filling my voice.

And did he say it did? No, he said you’d have an answer. 🙄🙄

Think of all of the countless others that it’s killed simply because... what? They didn’t possess my exact blood type?” I felt almost guilty saying the words out loud,

No, you should actually be feeling stupid for saying such a ridiculous thing… out loud.

“It might not be fully evil. But Arthur planned to use me, bound to the sword, to execute his plans. While the sword exists and I exist, that’s still a possibility.”

He’d planned to use whomever could wield the sword. You just so happened to be the one that could. Stop making it all about you all the time.

A king I had seen—or thought I had seen—once in a dream.

And did you tell Draven?

“Wait. I’m coming with you. We’ll find her wet nurse. And then breakfast?” I scrambled out of bed and started pulling out clothes from the wardrobe.

And why exactly is Draven already dressed when he just rolled out of bed to calm a crying baby?

Show her my favorite books in the castle library.

Hopefully after it is cleaned and all the mold is removed…

“Timid? Incompetent? Is that what you think you are?” “No,” I admitted. “Well, not timid.”

Lies…

“Then I found you.”

No, he found you.

I stepped forward, careful of Medra, and lifted my lips to his.

I notice that they have stopped again yet are supposed to be getting the baby some food…

But something in his darkness called to my own.

And what darkness do you suddenly have?

But Medra trumped us both, letting out a high-pitched wail that filled the hall and showed no signs of stopping.

Thank you Medra, cuz this rambling heffa was getting on my nerves.

I had been too blind or too stupid to understand the unseen strings that pulled at us.

Had been? You still are!

Somewhere in twilight’s embrace, a war that most mortals had managed to live in blissful ignorance of had raged on in the background.

In twilight’s embrace? Why is this nonsense?

Outside of Pendrath, however, Rheged had always been something of a mystery.

Don’t tell me that’s where the Valtain have actually been hiding all these years… but wasn’t Draven up there working as an assassin at some point?

Their king, Nerov, had certainly played my brother false, offering aid and then withdrawing it only to attack.

But he didn’t attack Pendrath. It could be said he came to Arthur’s aid by attacking the ones that attacked his ally, especially considering he attacked on the same night they breached Camelot…

Fenyx had been fostered there. He had been a brutal, cruel man. Was his cruelty fostered in Rheged, too?

Yeah, but he had to have been working on that fae vest for a good while, unless all those stones on his vest came from fae in Camelot. Would La fay serious let someone like him kill fae there?

It was a bone-chilling tale. One which Draven had told me the truth of—a long story, and one for another day.

No, this would have been a useful thing to recount for readers since it came from book 1 or 2 and something appropriate to add to the word count instead of all the useless words that are usually used for that purpose.

A loud wail broke my concentration.

Broke your concentration? You’re walking to breakfast. Wrong phrase to describe this used here.

The sound of clattering pots and the sizzle of something delicious being cooked on an open flame provided a cozy backdrop of noise.

Oh Lordt. Is Hawl gonna fight with this cook too? 🤣🤣🤣

Wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, holding the essentials of any good kitchen—rows of hanging herbs and dried ingredients. Long, sturdy tables lined the center, holding pots and pans and other culinary tools.

Pretty sure we didn’t need a description of what a kitchen looks like in a human castle… Now if it was another species, details might be needed to describe things that would be different to a human…

It was a wonder to me that so little had changed with Arthur’s death. Life in the castle went on much as before, even without its king.

That’s what happens when you have a job… you keep doing it until someone tells you otherwise.

The Ursidaur was towering over one of the cooking stations, stirring something in a huge, copper pot.

Apparently the only one that ignored your ass. Good job, Hawl. She’s not really important, the author just wants us to think so. It’s really the side characters like Draven, Kaye and Medra, who just entered the story, that are the real MVPs of the series.

“Ah, a visit from the little one and her family!

See. Told you Medra was the real MVP.

My Serene Sovereign.

Oh, I love all these lovely names for her…

I glared at him. “Hush. Hush immediately.” “Whatever you say, My Radiance,” he whispered.

🤣🤣🤣🤣 I was wondering what comments Draven would have on the topic!

Divine Elegance.”

Love this dude!

As it was likely something borderline treasonous about how he wished I ruled all of Eskira, I was infinitely grateful. I had heard similar things mentioned a few times already by some of the staff and had been quick to quell them.

But why? What has she done in this time to show that she would make a great leader? The rebels headed up the coop. Morgan was no where to be seen by the people (trapped in a dungeon in the castle being murdered) and when the rival armies arrived, Arthur spoke for himself. All she aid was let’s negotiate basically, and at the time I’m pretty sure the only citizens of Camelot that were around were the rebels, led by Guinevere, Galahad, and Lancelet. She was not the face of the rebels or anything. The author be stitching ideas together with no clear path. It’s disjointed and unbelievable.

“Seems rather rich for breakfast,” Draven observed. He glanced at me. “I’m not sure that Her Divine Radiance and I...”

Pretty sure he said it was for the Exmoors… sorry Draven my dear.

“Ridiculous for you to imply I might be so invested. Like a Bearkin with a cub. Absolutely ridiculous.” The Ursidaur slammed their paws down

Um, you just said it all yourself there Hawl..

“I suppose Hawl is worried that... what? Their reputation as a bold warrior might be compromised if word got out they were bringing fancy feasts to a cat?” “And as you’re in no position whatsoever to point fingers...” I noted.

Oh shut up. Nothing he said spoke of him trying to point fingers, especially standing there with a baby strapped to his chest while feeding her a bottle. That didn’t even make sense to be put there. 🙄🙄

I asked Danielo diplomatically, trying to change the subject and finally get out of the kitchen and out of everyone’s way.

Did she forget the sole purpose of going there this morning was to eat?

I smiled. “I’m sure I can manage. I’m stronger than I look.”

Yet you let Fenyx basically kill you… I hate when she brags after getting her ass kicked.

I snorted. “I highly doubt that. I don’t think Hawl is interested in, well, romance and that sort of thing.”

You wouldn’t know. Shut up.

“Yes, my Serene Sovereign,” Draven said with false meekness. “Whatever you say, Your Royal Radiance.”

Love him.

Despite Draven’s teasing, I knew he was worried about Sunstrike, too.

Again, comment makes no sense. It’s not like he was teasing about Sunstrike. He was teasing about Hawl. Lordt have mercy…

So many residents from the city and visitors from the villages surrounding Camelot had started to gather at the Winged Roost that it had gotten to the point where Sir Ector had to set up benches and built a fence around the roost. A few guards were regularly stationed nearby to keep out trespassers, though there had only been a few.

So, they don’t need to be working the fields to restore the coming harvest or readying the land to seed, rebuilding the Town Center, cleaning up the streets, rebuilding destroyed homes etc. The had so many homeless refugees come into the city before. Did everyone suddenly stop starving after the king died? Did the food shortage magically disappear? Even if they open Arthur’s stores, that food won’t last long without more being procured and added to it. Their bordering neighborhoods are at war with Rhege after just being at war with Pendarth, I’m sure they don’t have much food to spare either. Again, author makes no sense.

There had been one incident in which a young man attempted to sneak into the exmoor’s roost and fetch a handful of fur for his lady love to make into a pillow.

That doesn’t even make any sense. Not the pants part, but the illogical part where a human would think to enter the nest of two huge beasts with claws and sharp teeth, alone and without weapons, to get anything, even if it was a damn turd!

The Empress’s Exmoor.

Lordt… no sense.

“Our Regal Eminence, Our Divine Grace—the Rose of Myntra.” She glanced down at the tray I carried. “Oh, Your Imperial Majesty, who dared to load down your noble arms with such a vulgar burden?”

🤣🤣🤣🤣

Even more awkward than the entire castle kitchen coming to a standstill was the fact that a new faction had quickly arisen following Arthur’s death. This small group—and I prayed to the Three that it was small—believed I should not only be empress of Myntra but queen of Pendrath, and perhaps even all of Eskira.

Again, she has done nothing to deserve the position or the honor. Makes no sense.

I haven’t even begun to properly rule Myntra, now have I?

Why is this written like she has expressed interest in ruling Myntra? Last we all read, she was adamantly against doing so and those were his people, not hers…etc etc. Again, disjointed. Important conversations left out, conclusions drawn that haven’t been fleshed out…

I had done nothing to even deserve the title of “empress” yet.

But you’re acting like you’ve done something to deserve the title of queen, even if only here in Camelot…

Perhaps that was why, beneath the embarrassment, it also stung. I was a fraud.

Good that you recognize and so does the author.

opened them again. “He’s bringing meat to Sunstrike. She’ll be happy about that.”

And you’re just standing there holding her damn food running your mouth. He wouldn’t have had to hunt if you’d just went in when you arrived and he was scratching the thing. Lancelet could have went in with you. 🙄🙄