The girls turned to see Rhian, red-faced.
“I told you, Sophie. It’s a mistake for them to pin their hopes on me,” said the knight. “I’m not the king. Tedros is. And now he will lead them.”
He turned to Agatha. “To the Hall to hear the king?”
Agatha smiled. “To the Hall to hear the king.”
The group dismissed the rest of the crowds by shooting sparks into the sky—“THANK YOU!” read Beatrix’s message to the Evers; “GO HOME” read Hester’s to the Nevers—and together, they sealed the gates to Camelot Park and went into Town Hall together to listen to Tedros’ speech.
The Hall thrummed with life, like a seaship off to war. More than a thousand new soldiers crammed inside on the dusty marble tile, lit by oil lamps overhead, which flickered every time a moth burnt in their flames. Men, women, creatures, and mogrifs were fitted with armor and weapons as leaders from the various kingdoms supervised from the stage and Guinevere made the rounds to check their stamps, her newly white hair slick from the rain.
Sophie and Agatha found Tedros standing in a corner in his Lion mask.
“Ready to inspire your army?” Agatha said eagerly.
Tedros blinked through his mask.
“Do you know what you’re going to say?” Agatha prodded.
Tedros didn’t answer, his eyes on the allied leaders.
“Tedros?”
“Stop badgering me,” he said, glaring at Agatha.
Sophie saw Agatha peek at her for support.
“If you’re nervous, Rhian can address them,” Sophie said to Tedros.
“No,” said Agatha, giving Sophie a death stare.
“What is it?” Rhian said, arriving.
“Nothing,” Tedros replied sharply. “I’m doing it. It’s just . . . I had a flashback to the coronation. That’s all.”
He headed towards the stage.
Sophie turned to Agatha. “Was the coronation that bad?”
Agatha gave her a look that more than answered her question.
“He’ll be great,” Rhian assured, seeing their faces. “He’s a king. This is what kings do.”
As soon as Tedros stepped before his army in a Lion mask, the soldiers exploded into cheers— “LION! LION! LION!”
Tedros took off the mask.
Soldiers hushed, staring at him.
The Hall was silent.
Agatha started clapping loudly and so did Rhian, before the crowd joined in with stiff applause for the king.
It ebbed quickly and Tedros was again standing in front of a quiet room.
“Hi. Hello. Welcome to Camelot,” said Tedros, his voice scratchy. “Thank you for your service. It’s my honor to have you—”
Someone fumbled a sword and it clanged to the ground.
Tedros cleared his throat. “It’s my honor to have you fight by my side. At midnight the Snake will come and we must be ready. I am hereby rescinding my father’s ban on magic at the castle, since the Snake himself will surely not abide by it. My father would have no doubt done the same. To get to the castle, the Snake’s army will have to climb over Camelot’s outer gates . . . then cross the broken drawbridge from the cliffs to the royal grounds. We will be magically fortifying the outer gates so no scims can fly over it. All of you will be positioned inside these outer gates to prevent the Snake’s army from using the drawbridge or the temporary rope bridge to get to the castle. My team, meanwhile, will be positioned inside the castle courtyard to protect both the castle and Excalibur. As a last barrier, barrels of boiling oil will be placed atop the towers to ensure none of the Snake’s army can get inside the castle. . . .”
Agatha whispered to Sophie: “He’s rushing, but he’s doing okay, isn’t he?”
But he wasn’t doing okay and both girls knew it. The crowd was listless, rocking back on their heels, fidgeting with their armor and weapons.
“His army will be made up of pirates, trolls, and other paid mercenaries,” Tedros went on. “Paid loyalties cannot compete with your genuine commitment to our cause. . . .”
Sophie could see the allied leaders murmuring to each other, shielding their mouths with their hands. So were the witches, while Anadil’s rats toyed with a dead butterfly. Guinevere glanced back at Agatha, looking nervous.
Sophie whispered to Agatha: “A king is supposed to rally his army, Aggie, not bore them with details and put them to sleep! This isn’t a speech for Class Captain or some school challenge! He has to boil their blood! He has to fire them up! This lot is the only thing between the Snake and all of us dying!”
Agatha bit her nails, no longer pretending that this was going well.
In front of them a dwarf yawned.
Tedros kept talking: “Because of the magical barrier, no scims can pass Camelot’s outer gates. Which means the Snake’s army is his only weapon against us—”
An ogre in Bloodbrook armor raised his hand. “What’s the Lion gotta say?”
Tedros stopped talking.
A thousand soldiers turned away from him and looked to his knight.
Rhian retreated into the shadows.
Sophie could see Tedros taking in the sight of his allies and soldiers, hungry to hear from his knight instead of him, many of them adorned with Lion masks, Lion tattoos, and Lion shirts.
Sophie could see it in Tedros’ face. The way they were all looking at his knight . . . it was almost as if the king wasn’t there.
“Rhian,” said Tedros finally. “Would you like to speak?”
The crowd stirred, woken from their sleep.
“Rhian! Rhian! Rhian!” the Sons of the Lion sang.
Others whistled and shouted, “Speech! Speech!”
Rhian scowled, waving this off—
But then Agatha squeezed his arm.
Princess and knight locked eyes.
“Please,” she said. “Help him.”
In that moment, Rhian’s face changed.
“As you wish, milady,” he said softly.
With a deep breath, the knight took the stage and the king fell back, offering Rhian a weak smile.
Rhian stepped cautiously into the spotlight.
The crowd went quiet—a new quiet, as if the air had somehow turned kinetic.