I breathed in deeply. It wasn't an easy question to answer. “We find her… quietly."
He immediately shook his head. "I have searched for her high and low. There has not been a corner of this castle that hasn't been searched."
"Most likely because she is not within the castle walls. No, in this case, you must issue a royal decree."
He frowned at me. "A royal decree?"
I nodded. "Invite all daughters of Logres to court under the guise of a celebration."
"It will look as though I am seeking a wife."
He appeared put out by the thought, but I nodded. "Yes, exactly. And therefore, no one will question it. It's the perfect guise. A festival in honor of beauty and grace.” I paused. “All the eligible young women of the realm will be required to attend."
"And if she does not?"
"Make it a law," I answered with a shrug. "Punishable by tithe." He nodded at that and seemed to like the idea. "We’ll locate her without ever having to reveal our reasons why.”
He was quiet as he further considered it. Then he nodded more ardently. “Not a bad idea. Yes. I’ll make the announcement tomorrow.”
“Wewillfind her,” I promised.
He looked at me then—something cold and final flickering in his eyes. “Quietly, Lance. No one can know what I saw. No one can know who she is… or what she did.”
I nodded, my mind already racing through the logistics—how to conduct a secret search under the eyes of the court and the King’s Guard.
“And when we do locate her?” I asked softly, a knot forming in my throat. I feared his answer. Feared what he might ask of me. The image of this girl—unnamed, alone, marked by destiny and now for death—unsettled me more than I cared to admit.
Arthur turned back to the window, his reflection ghostlike in the glass. “Bring her to me. Unharmed.”
When I left his chambers, I didn’t get far. The corridor was empty, torchlit, and silent, yet I couldn’t bring myself to walk away. Instead, I leaned against the cold stone of the wall, listening to the soft, uneven rhythm of his pacing behind the door. Something had shifted in him tonight—something deep. And I feared what might come next.
This consuming obsession did not characterize the Arthur I had come to know over these many years. His admission that the dragon was growing in strength unsettled me. That he could now hear its thoughts echoing within his mind, a cacophony of dark whispers that tugged at his sanity and tested his resolve? This wasn't just troubling; it was a warning sign, a signal that something profound and sinister was happening within him, something I feared he could no longer control. The same thing that had happened to his father.
The gleam in his eyes when he spoke of this girl—half hunger, half desperation—reminded me of men lost to battlefrenzy or dark enchantments. He was no longer the measured king I’d called friend for over twenty years.
What had become of the man who once defied his father’s court in order to defend me? I’d been nothing then—an orphan with calloused hands and threadbare clothing, fighting for scraps in dirty alleys.
“You have the heart of a true knight,”he’d said, offering his hand as nobles sneered behind him. He’d lifted me from the mud and given me purpose when I had known only rage and hunger.
I owed him everything—my sword, my loyalty, my life if needed.
But this? Hunting an innocent woman whose only crime was being chosen by the same sword that once chose him?
Could I be part of that?
Uneasy, I made for my quarters.
The corridors were quiet, bathed in moonlight. The castle slept, unaware of the fracture forming at its heart.
God help me, I hoped we never found her.
For her sake—yes. I’d seen the darkness growing in Arthur, that dangerous edge between desire and fear—the dragon's darkness, if I were being honest with myself. But I also hoped we didn't find her forhissake. He was standing on a precipice, soul tilted toward a fall he might not survive.
And what of the fact that she had actually pulled the sword (if this was not somehow Merlin's doing)? What did that mean? A threat to the kingdom we’d built through blood and sacrifice? Or something else…
Salvation?
The sword had chosen Arthur in Logres’ hour of need, and it had abandoned him as soon as he'd taken the Dragon. What did it seek now in choosing her? Did she represent absolution? Purification? And if such was the case, and if I had to choosebetween them—between my oath to the king and what was right—what would I do?
