“Merlin runs on his own time,” Guinevere sighed, sitting next to Lance on her son’s bed.

“He’ll be here soon. Can’t possibly miss my coronation,” Tedros said, holding his nose. “Maybe if we spritz this with a little cologne—”

“It’s a coronation gown, Teddy. You only have to wear it once,” said his mother. “Besides, I don’t smell anything except whatever it is Lance raided from the pantry.”

“Oh be serious, Gwen,” Lancelot growled, smacking at the bedsheets and spawning a dust storm. “What happened to this place?”

“Don’t worry. Agatha and I will fix everything,” Tedros declared, combing his hair. “We knew what we were coming back to. Dad’s advisors let the castle go to waste and lined their pockets with the kingdom’s taxes. Would’ve loved to have seen their faces when Lance threw them in the dungeons.”

“Oddly calm, to be honest. As if they expected it—or at least knew better than to fight,” Lance said, with a loud belch. “Insisted I don’t have the authority to jail them until Tedros is king. Told them to sod off.”

“They’re right,” Guinevere clipped. “And if you can’t eat like a proper human, I’ll have the kitchen put you on a vegetable diet.”

Tedros and Lancelot gaped at her.

“They’re right?” Tedros asked incredulously.

“Vegetables?” Lancelot blurted, mouth full.

“Until your coronation as king is official, the Council of Advisors appointed by Arthur has full authority to decide who runs Camelot,” Guinevere explained. “But in a few hours you will be king and it’s not like there’s a rival with a claim to the throne they can summon out of thin air. That’s why the guards didn’t stop Lance from jailing them.”

Reassured, Tedros went back to assessing his reflection.

“Darling, enough with the mirror. You look beautiful,” his mother said. “Meanwhile, poor Agatha is getting ready by herself and surely needs a lady’s help. Why don’t I go to her and leave you here with Lan—”

“Agatha’s fine,” Tedros said, picking at an annoying pimple near his mouth. God, I’m almost as bad as Sophie, he thought. But he was about to have an entire kingdom judging him. Who wouldn’t be self-conscious? “Besides, it’s my birthday,” he added, “and I want to spend time with my mother.”

He saw his mother blush, still unused to him being nice to her.

“Sounds more like Little King’s afraid of being alone with me,” Lancelot cracked.

“Call me ‘little’ again and I’ll run you through,” Tedros flared, tapping Excalibur at his waist. “No one on earth would choose to be alone with you anyway.”

“Except your mother. Likes our alone time just fine,” said Lancelot tartly.

“Oh good lord,” Guinevere mumbled.

“In any case, Agatha has that strange steward woman helping her get ready, the one who greeted us when we arrived last night and reeks of perfume,” said Tedros, checking his teeth. “Wanted to help me get ready but I said I had you two. Didn’t seem happy about it.”

“What’s the story there, Gwen? Looked about as thrilled to see you as you did her,” said Lancelot.