The carriage stopped short of a gap in the cliffs leading to the castle’s entrance.

“Drawbridge is still broken from the coronation, milady,” the driver sighed, pulling into a carriage house at the edge of the cliff. “We’ll have to use the ropes to cross.”

Agatha barreled out of the carriage herself before the driver could open her door. Enough whining, she thought, as she wobbled along the unsteady rope bridge that even honored guests had to use until the embarrassing drawbridge problem could be fixed. Tedros wasn’t haggling over when they would have time alone. Tedros wasn’t hounding her about being a team. Tedros was working for his people, like she should be.

Maybe Lady Gremlaine was right, Agatha confessed. Maybe she should stop obsessing over what she couldn’t do as queen and start focusing on the one thing she could. Indeed, a wedding filled with love and beauty and intention might be just the way to restore the kingdom’s faith in them after the coronation. A wedding could show everyone that Camelot’s best days were to come . . . that her and Tedros’ Ever After had brought them here for a reason . . . that they could find a happy ending not just as King and Queen, but for the people too, even those who’d lost hope. . . .

Head held high, Agatha marched back into the castle, eager for her wedding lessons now and determined to do her very best.

That is, until she found out who was teaching them.

2

TEDROS

How Not to Throw a Coronation

Though he had no time for himself, no time for Agatha, no time at all, Tedros refused to get soft.

In his knee-length black socks and cut-off breeches, he snuck through the dark, muggy halls of Gold Tower, a towel slung over his bare, tanned chest. He knew it was vain and obsessive, this getting up at half past four to exercise, but it felt like the only thing left he could actually control. Because at six on the dot, Lady Gremlaine and four male stewards would barge into his room and from that moment until he slogged back into bed at night, he was no longer in charge of his own life.

He passed Agatha’s room, tempted to slip in and wake her up, but he’d gotten in trouble for that once and the last thing he needed was more trouble. His kingdom was already on the verge of revolt. That’s why he ceded Lady Gremlaine total control over the castle. As Arthur’s once-steward, she was a known face and gave people faith the new king would be well-managed. But there was another reason he’d let Gremlaine keep him on a tight leash, one he could never say out loud.

Tedros didn’t trust himself as king.

He needed someone like Lady Gremlaine who could watch his every move, who would check his every decision. If he’d only listened to her at the coronation, none of this would have happened. But he was listening to her now. Because if there was one thing he knew, it was that there could be no more mistakes.