“The girl may not be herself,” a new voice says. “But she is still a valuable chip to play.”

The Regent, Cestra, steps beside Erebus. She must have just emerged from one of the Order vehicles. “We will control her our way.”

“Control?” I spit. “This is treason.”

Cestra smirks. “Against whom? The Regents are the current leaders of this Order.” She shakes her head. “Attack me just as you attacked my Mageguard if you like, my liege, but something tells me you did not come here to fight your own kingdom.”

“I did not,” I concede to the woman. “I came to rule. To reign. To win this war.”

She produces a pair of cyffion. Erebus’s grip grows tight. “Then you will wear these while we negotiate.”

I study the cyffion. Have not seen them in ages. Never seen them applied to any of my Court, much less myself.

Before I can protest, Patricia interjects, voice shaking with anger. “You wouldn’t dare put those on her.”

Cestra raises a brow. “And why not?”

Lucille, the smallest of the women, steps forward, her voice low and hard. “The ancestors of Volition will not stand for chains of any kind on our people, ever again.”

Cestra’s eyes narrow infinitesimally. “I do not fear ghosts.”

“You should fear ours.” The younger woman, Mariah, lowers her chin, fist balled at her hips.

“I would listen to these descendants if I were you, woman,” I say with a low, throaty laugh.

“If you only knew how silly you sound in that body.” Cestra steps forward, clicking open the first cuff. “The Order will never allow a mistake like you to lead. And I have worked too hard to be toppled by a mere girl whose ancestor was in the wrong place, at the wrong time.” Her head whips toward the Mageguard, Larkin. “Douglas! Tell Sitterson to gather up the wounded. I want Kane and the Chen girl with us.”

Larkin looks between Cestra and Erebus, hesitant.

“Douglas, move!” Cestra barks. The Merlin moves closer to the Rootcrafters with both hands raised for peace. Lucille turns to the Scion of Gawain, who gives a short nod. The line of Rootcrafter women allow Larkin through and the two boys begin speaking in quick, hurried tones over the wounded.

“Apply the cuffs, Seneschal,” Cestra orders, and hands them to her subordinate.

Erebus’s voice remains even. “For what reason, if I may ask?”

“So that we can deal with her and the rest of the Table all at once.”

The mention of the Table gets my attention. Are they all together at this moment? Waiting? Ten Scions and the Scion of Gawain… a near fully gathered Table already prepared for my arrival. And Cestra knows where they are. Hope flares, even as it wars with irritation at this obnoxious woman. To be with my knights again is impossible, but to see their descendants, to feel their spirits…