“I’m never invited to anything,” Hort muttered.

Neither Tedros, Agatha, nor Guinevere acknowledged them.

“Well, it’s about time that blasted crown came to some use after all the trouble it’s caused us,” Lancelot added. “Though you might want to give the girl a proper dress while you’re at it. Diamonds don’t go well with that shirt.”

Nobody laughed.

“A swimming start to the morning,” the knight cracked. “Well, make your wish, Agatha, and be done with it. Time for lunch and there’s still chores to be done.”

Agatha looked at him. “Wish?”

Lancelot frowned. “At a proper coronation, you make a wish for your kingdom once you’re anointed with the crown. It’s the closing rite of the ceremony. Surely Gwen told you that much.”

“I’m afraid I’ve done a poor job, then,” Guinevere said softly, looking at her son.

Tedros held her gaze for a moment and turned away.

“Then I should make my wish, shouldn’t I?” said Agatha, studying her prince. She stood up straighter. “I wish that all of us can sit down and have lunch together.”

Tedros’ eyes snapped to her.

Guinevere froze to stone. Lancelot and Hort both held their breaths.

Agatha stayed locked on her prince, waiting for his answer.

Tedros said nothing, staring back at Agatha in her new crown.

The grove was quiet.

Tedros turned to his mother.

“Well, what are you making?” he asked.

Guinevere went apple red. Then her face crumbled and she shook her head, flooding hot tears. “It’s—it’s Monday—I-I-I don’t have any food—”

“Hear that, boy?” said Lancelot. “Mum ain’t got any food. That’s what the death sentence was really for, wasn’t it?”

Everyone gaped at him in horrified silence.

Then Agatha burst into cackles.

Seeing her, Tedros tried to resist, but started snickering too.

His mother was sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe, years of pent-up emotion pouring out of her. “It’s not . . . not funny—”

The prince hung his arm around her and held her tight as she heaved into his chest. “We’ll handle it, Mother,” he whispered. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Watching Guinevere and Tedros together, Agatha felt overwhelmed with emotion. They needed time alone, without anyone else—

“Leave making lunch to me and the boys,” she said quickly, eyeing Lancelot as she took Hort’s hand.

“Me?” Hort blurted. “Why can’t the pampered prince do it? I didn’t get a wink of sleep and then spent half the morning wrangling hogs while you and him spent last night snuggling in the barn, doing God knows wha—”

Agatha dug her nails into his wrist, making him yelp. “We’ll be back with food soon,” she said, dragging him off.

“You’ll need a lot more than you think,” a voice called.

Agatha turned to see a parade of silhouettes striding out of sun flare over the moors.

Merlin led them, followed by Hester, Anadil, Dot, Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Jack, Sleeping Beauty, Hansel, Gretel, Red Riding Hood, Yuba, the White Rabbit, and Princess Uma, all filthy, weary, and gawking around the magical moors as if they’d crossed through a portal from hell into paradise.