"For the sake of the disappointed ladies, let's pray they find victory," he chuckled in reply.
Near the eastern gate, the Orkney brothers commanded attention. I had high hopes for Gawain’s earth magic, and Gareth's fire magic was nothing short of impressive.
“The Orkney clan hedges its bets,” Lance observed. “Two sons, two chances at the Round Table.”
“May the best brother win." Then I cocked my head to the side. "Or perhaps they both will?"
Lance nodded as his attention switched to yet another promising candidate. “The eastern houses favor Lamorak,” he continued as we glanced over the ever-gathering crowd.
“And the western lords?” I asked, noting the cluster of nobles near the main gate.
“Divided between the Orkneys and Percival. They're less concerned with ability—more with maintaining old alliances.”
I gave a slight nod. These trials were more than magical contests—they were a bloodless war for influence. The knights who succeeded today would elevate their families for a generation. It was a reshaping of the court’s future.
“And the northern lords?” I asked. “They’ve been quiet lately.”
Lance hesitated. “That’s the curious part. Several have taken a sudden interest in Sir Lioran, despite how little is known about him."
"Yes. Lord Carlisle, in particular.”
Of course, I’d noticed Carlisle’s scrutiny of Lioran. It disturbed me. The northern houses had long-standing ties to Annwyn—their lands nestled closest to the Standing Stones. They'd pledged their loyalty to the crown when I'd named Merlin and Annwyn enemies of the court... but such loyalty, so easily offered, was rarely absolute.
I kept my gaze centered on Carlisle, where he sat beside Lady Melisande and Lady Tamsin.
"Carlisle's gathering has grown," I noted, keeping my voice low enough that only Lance would hear.
At The Summoning, it had been only him and Melisande in attendance—two northern representatives maintaining thebare minimum of courtly obligation. Strategic absence dressed as respectful distance. But after The Labyrinth, the northern delegation had swelled. Lady Tamsin arrived first, her sharp features familiar from border negotiations. Then Brynmor, Carlisle's nephew, a young lord whose father had died under questionable circumstances. Edwin of Easthollow came next, his irritable disposition preceding him like a herald.
Now two more men sat among them. I didn't recognize either face, but their bearing marked them as northern dignitaries—the careful posture of men accustomed to negotiating from positions of weakness, the watchful eyes that tracked everything and committed it to memory.
"Building a faction," Lance said as he nodded, looking at them.
"Around a knight with no verified lineage." I shifted my weight. "They're either desperately foolish, or they know something we don’t."
"Perhaps they simply wish for a hero for the north, and they see that hero in Lioran?"
"A hero to lead the rebellion," I answered with a clipped nod.
"We have no proof that Carlisle is involved with anything… unsavory."
I looked at Lance. "And yet—what does your gut tell you?"
Lance paused as he studied the man in question. "That he's up to something."
I nodded. "Exactly." Then something more occurred to me. "Do you suppose Lioran would side with Carlisle when push came to shove?" I kept my voice low. "Or would he remain loyal to the crown?"
Lance shifted his weight, considering. "Lioran is still much of an unknown. I'm uncertain where his loyalties lie."
"I share your concerns." I paused, watching the young knight check his weapons across the courtyard. "Though I'll admit, I'm rooting for him."
"I've noticed." Lance's mouth quirked. "From the beginning, actually. Why is that?"
The question caught me off guard, even though I'd asked myself the same thing more than once. I could not fully explain it, but there was something about Lioran that stirred protective instincts within me.
"There's something about him," I said finally. "Something that makes me feel strangely protective towards him."
"Strange you say that." Lance frowned. "I feel the same way. As if Lioran needs protecting, not only from the viciousness of the other knights but—"
