He had no idea how to tell her that the days of her being a full-time blacksmith were probably over. He’d assumed she already knew this but now . . . he wasn’t sure she’d ever get it. As a queen, she’d have much more important things to do with her time than work a forge, but he didn’t want to get into that at the moment. He might not even be the one she should “get into that” with.

Then Gemma had declined the offer of ale from her cousin. But she hadn’t simply waved the offer away like Caid and Laila. She’d been a bit judgey about it all. With pursed lips and a disappointed frown, she’d asked Keran, “How much do you drink a day anyway, Cousin?”

It was downhill from there.

Before Caid could suggest that they all get some sleep, the first punch was thrown.

At Quinn.

For once, though, his brother hadn’t started anything; he’d simply made the mistake of physically placing himself between the arguing cousins. Quinn would never do that if mares were involved, but he didn’t have as much experience around humans. He especially didn’t have much experience around the Smythe clan.

Unfortunately for Quinn, it was Keran’s fist that rammed into his cheek. As a former fighter, she had power behind that move that perhaps the War Monk lacked. Quinn went down hard and, for several long minutes, did not get back up. He wasn’t even conscious.

“You idiot!” Gemma screamed after a few shakes didn’t wake Caid’s brother. “You killed him!”

“Oh, he’s fine!” Keran snapped back. “And is it my fault he has a face made of glass?”

“Are you going to help your brother?” Keeley asked Caid.

“You heard Keran . . . he’ll be fine.”

She snorted and went back to her sketch.

When Gemma and Keran began pushing each other, Caid became worried the argument would escalate. He nudged Keeley with his elbow.

“Hhmhh?”

“You may want to stop them,” he suggested.

Keeley glanced up at her kin. “Oy! You two! Stop it.”

“Shut up, Keeley!” Gemma snarled back.

Keeley shrugged and went back to her work. “I tried.”

Laila leaned around Caid. “Seriously?”

“What?” Keeley asked, oblivious.

“You’re going to let them get away with talking to you like that?”

Keeley frowned. “Like what?”

They both stared at her, waiting for her to understand on her own. She needed to learn this sort of thing and they might as well start now.

And . . . it did take a bit. Longer than Caid would have hoped, but when she got it, her grin was wide as she handed him her sketch.

“What’s that?” Laila asked, gazing at the drawing.

“Hammer-axe combination weapon. All steel.”

“Nice.”

Keeley pushed her cousin and sister apart. “That’s enough! And you’ll do what I tell you.”

Keran glanced at Gemma and they both smirked. “We will?”

“You will. Do you know why?”

“You’re delusional?” Gemma suggested.

“No, bitch. It’s because I’m queen. Me. Keeley! I’m queen. And that means you two slags have to do what I say. So when I give you twats an order, you have to listen to me. Understand?”

“Well . . .”

“Actually . . .”

“Samuel!” Keeley barked.

The boy had been off tending to the humans’ horses, but as soon as he heard Keeley, he ran to her and dropped to one knee before her.

“Yes, my queen?” he asked, his head bowed.

Laila quickly covered her mouth with her hand to stop from laughing, but Caid was too impressed to laugh.

Keeley dramatically pointed at Samuel for the benefit of her sister and cousin before she asked him, “Did you take care of the gray mare?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. She lets me take off her saddle now and didn’t try to kick me this time when I brushed her coat. She didn’t want any of the grain we have for the other horses, though. She’d rather graze.”

“Excellent. Thank you, Samuel. When we have a more secure situation, I will reward you with something like a title. Would you like to be an . . . earl . . . or whatever?”

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Samuel. You may go.”

He got to his feet, bowed to her, and ran back to the horses, where he seemed most comfortable.

“See?” Keeley asked Gemma and Keran. “The benefit of following my orders?”

“We’ll get to kneel to you—”

“—and brush your horse?”

“Yes! And you’ll be happy to do it. Do you know why?”

“Because you’re queen?” Gemma asked.

“Yes! Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I’ll take first watch.”

Laila’s head dropped as Keeley proudly marched off.

“She doesn’t realize she doesn’t have to take first watch?” Laila asked him. “You know . . . because she’s queen.”

“We’ll have to ease her into this.”

“You’re right. You’re right.” Laila pointed at Gemma and Keran. “And you two,” she called to them, “at least when we’re around outsiders, attempt to treat her like the queen she literally is. Think you can do that?”

“We can do it,” Gemma admitted. “We just won’t like it.”

* * *

Keeley nocked an arrow and pulled back the bowstring. She wasn’t hunting anything, she just wanted to get used to using Laila’s bow. The centaurs made amazing bows and she wanted to make her own. Woodworking wasn’t one of her specialties but every Smythe knew how to make bows and arrows. It was a good part of her business. But there was always a way to do even better. . . .

Keeley lowered the weapon, dropped the arrow to the ground, and pressed her free hand to her chest.

It was like waves crashing over her. The despair. The pain. The memories.

“It’s gone,” she heard herself whisper, not feeling as if she was actually talking but knowing that she was. “It’s all gone.”

“Keeley?”

Caid came toward her. He saw her bent over at the waist and quickly shifted to his human form. He went to her. She felt his hands on her shoulders.

“Keeley, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s gone,” she repeated. “Everything’s gone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The town. My business. It’s all—”

He closed his eyes. “I assumed you just didn’t want to talk about it.”

“When I woke up, all I thought about was Beatrix. I couldn’t think past her and worrying about my parents and the children . . . and Beatrix. And Gemma only told me what had happened after I’d been stabbed. But it is, isn’t it? The Witch Queen told me. The town. My business. All of it. It’s gone.”

“I’m so sorry, Keeley.” Caid stroked her back with one hand.

Keeley held up one finger and pulled away from him. She walked behind a tree and vomited. Everything she’d eaten in the last hour came out of her in one big rush. When she was done, she was sweating and shaking, but her head was a bit clearer.

She came from around the tree and Caid waited for her with his water flask. Laila now stood beside him.

“You all right, Keeley?”

She didn’t want to answer Laila. She wasn’t in the mood to discuss this with her. Or Gemma. Or Keran.

And those feelings must have been on her face because Caid grabbed Keeley’s hand. “Take first watch,” he ordered his sister, dragging Keeley behind him.

He took her deeper into the trees until he found an ancient one with an extremely large trunk. He pulled Keeley around it and sat down, tugging her until she sat next to him. He gave her his flask and she poured some water into her mouth without drinking from it. She swished it around and then spit it out. Next she took a long drink.

“Thank you,” she said when she was done. “How could I forget what the Witch Queen told me? How could I forget any of that?”

“Your mind handled what it could at the time. Waking up remembering that your sister had attempted to kill you would have been more than most could handle. The rest came when you were ready.”

“All those people. Everyone in town. Their homes, their businesses, all gone. And it’s all my fault—”

“It’s not your fault!” Caid snapped, surprising her. He’d never snapped at her before. At least not that she could remember. “It’s Beatrix’s fault. She started this, Keeley. All of it. The only thing you can do now is attempt to fix it, but you can’t keep blaming yourself.”

“But—”

“I won’t let you blame yourself. Is that better?”

Keeley raised her knees and rested her elbows on them. She lowered her head so she could rub her forehead with her fingers.

“Maybe Gemma’s right,” Keeley wondered. “Maybe I do need to kill Beatrix.”

“We both know you can’t do that.”

“I can’t do that.” Keeley smiled, realizing they’d said those sentences at the same time.

“And I understand it,” Caid continued. “She’s your sister. You love her, even if she doesn’t deserve it. But as queen . . . you won’t have to kill her. You can have her exiled to one of the strict religious orders. Let her become the nun you thought Gemma was.”

Keeley let her head fall back, resting it against the tree’s giant trunk. She blew out a breath and said, “You’re right.”

“I know.”

She smiled again. “Are all centaurs as confident as you?”

“Yes. We’re centaurs. We’re amazing.”

They sat silent until Keeley asked, “Do you have to go back to camp yet?”

“To what?” Caid asked. “To a whining Quinn? Your vicious demon wolves that are, last I looked, brutally ripping apart an ox for their dinner . . . and entertainment? Your bickering cousin and sister? Or perhaps I should get back to the needy Samuel?”