Ere ignored her, refocusing.
“Besides, if anyone questions your lineage as Geralt the Younger, I need to be close at hand to answer them.”
“You mean, bullshit them,” she clarified.
“’Tis what I do best,” Ere preened. “And with Sorin on your other side, we’ll have a good chance of surviving this shindig.”
The big, golden warrior indeed guarded Rui’s left side.
Though she could more than handle herself, after the assassination attempt at the lake, she was reassured by Sorin’s calm, quiet competence. She had yet to see him in action, but she knew, as one warrior knew another, that he was formidable. Between the two of them, they could take on at least half of the soldiers present and not break a sweat.
A well-dressed servant came upon them, blocking their path with a bow.
“The queen wishes to offer her congratulations,” he announced. “Please follow me.”
“Have we a choice?” Ere murmured.
“No,” Sorin replied.
They all knew why, for two dozen guards closed in behind them, surrounding them on all sides.
Shit.
Thus escorted, Rui, Ere and Sorin came before an elevated dais that hosted three thrones. King Arthur sat in the middle, as haggard and listless as ever. Morgan Le Fay sat on one side, and Guinevere sat on the other.
“Ah,” the beautiful queen remarked, her lips curling in a serpentine smile when they stood before her.
Rui mentally shook herself.
She should stop besmirching her brothers and sisters with such analogies. Serpents were perfectly wonderful creatures. This female before her, however, was decidedly not.
“Our finalist. Geralt the Younger, if I am not mistaken,” the queen mused.
“Please, raise your eyes, good man. Let me have a closer look at you.”
Rui had no choice but to do as she bid.
She stared stonily at the conniving human woman, all the while wondering how this related to the vision Seventh Sister had shown her. It was important, what she saw in the Mirror Pond. But Rui couldn’t figure out how.
Guinevere rose from her seat and walked closer, until she was within arm’s length. Her eyes glittered strangely, an unnatural light swirling within them.
“Take my hand, my lord,” she said softly, her gentle words in contrast to the steely, incontrovertible command.
Rui glanced swiftly at Ere, seeking his counsel.
He gave a minute shake of his head.
She understood.
He didn’t want her to touch the queen, but they had no choice. They could not refuse her direct command. Doing so would be a clear insult and might incite a bloody confrontation. Which could very well be her goal.
Rui glanced next at the extended, lily white, be-ringed hand.
The air seemed disturbed around the queen’s skin. Her whole form was surrounded by an eerie glow. To anyone else, it might make her even more beautiful, as if sunlight followed her wherever she went, bathing her in its warmth.
But to Rui, the glow was sinister. The queen dabbled in black magic, she surmised. No telling what her touch might do.
Either way, do or refuse, the three of them were in danger. Rui, most immediately, and her friends by extension. She didn’t have a choice. If they fought their way through the guards now, she might never get to the Eye. She needed to see this through.