Do not allow the emotions to overtake you,I told myself.You must maintain your cool, or your disguise will slip.
From the looks on the knights’ faces, it seemed no one had seen what I had—the truth about my heritage. The Caliope had succeeded, or maybe it was the Veilwood. Regardless, Elenora hadn't betrayed me—her elixir hadn't turned against me. Did that mean she was a friend, not a foe? Perhaps.
Relief, warm and welcome, flickered in my chest—but it was quickly buried beneath the weight of everything else I'd just learned about myself, about my parents, about the people I'dbelieved were my parents. As I stepped back into the circle of candidates, my eyes found Arthur’s almost instantly.
He looked at me in that quiet, measured way of his—calculating, searching. I couldn’t tell what he saw. But his nod came slowly, and when he spoke, his voice rang clear.
"You’ve done well," he said to us all, but his eyes lingered onmelonger than necessary.
And damn him, my traitorous body still responded to his lingering gaze. Even with the storm of revelation raging inside me, even with the crushing weight of my true lineage pressing down like a boulder threatening to shatter my carefully constructed world, I still felt that familiar warmth rise beneath my skin at the sight of him. Heat coursed through me despite every rational thought screaming that he was my enemy.
And worse—I felt that same treacherous pull when my eyes inevitably found Lance standing just behind Arthur's shoulder. The knight's dark gaze was fixed on me, relief replacing the concern that had been there previously. And yet that wasn't all that appeared in his gaze. Though his expression was unreadable, there was something hungry, something predatory in the way he watched me. My pulse quickened under his scrutiny, and I hated myself for the way my body betrayed me, responding to both men even as my mind reeled from everything the Riddle of Blood had revealed.
How could one heart be so torn between the king and his knight? Especially when both of them were my enemies?
I bowed, keeping my movements controlled despite the tremble in my limbs. The trial had changed everything—not just my understanding of myself, but it had changed my entire world. My identity was no longer a mask I wore; it was a fractured thing.
"There are two trials still awaiting you," Arthur said to us all. "But for this night, enjoy the festivities in the Great Hall. And sleep well, knowing each of you is worthy to be here."
Applause broke out then, celebratory and deafening. Some candidates beamed with pride, while others bore the stunned expressions of their secrets laid bare for all to see. Little by little, they found their allies and began to share their visions, comparing magical ancestors and personal revelations. I remained silent, distant, my lips smiling when necessary, my words carefully measured. But inside, I was still spinning.
The ritual had left me drained—physically, emotionally, magically. I could feel the strain of maintaining my Lioran glamour pressing on the edges of my energy, tugging at the seams.
"Congratulations, Lioran."
I recognized the voice before I saw him. That rich, deep baritone that had commanded Arthur's army now softened into something intimate: familiarity. I turned slowly, forcing the corners of my mouth upward into a smile.
"Thank you, Sir Lancelot," I said, using his proper title while in public.
He returned my smile with one of his own, and even exhausted, even furious,hestill made my pulse quicken. There was something about him—steadfast and open. And there was something about the way he was looking at me now—as though he wanted to ask me something but wouldn’t. Or couldn't.
I held my mask firmly in place. My lips curved upward into a forced smile. My posture straightened in supposed pride.
But the gap between who Iwasand who everyone believed me to be had never felt larger, nor more treacherous. And even if I appeared to be full of confidence on the outside, I was reeling on the inside.
"Considering your lineage, you’ve come an incredibly long way. You should be very proud of yourself," Lance continued, his dark eyes locking onto mine with that penetrating gaze that made my insides go to mush.
I forced a smile. It was all I could manage.
If only he knew the truth of mylineage, how different his praise might be. Would his voice still hold warmth? Would his eyes still meet mine with respect—or would they narrow with betrayal?
By nightfall, after the last of the ceremonial wine was poured and the court had retired to its revelry or rest, exhaustion wrapped around me like a leaden cloak. The ache in my bones ran deeper than physical.
Once safely behind the locked door of my chambers, I collapsed onto the edge of my bed with a weight that seemed to come from deep within me. What had once felt like a shield—this carefully constructed identity of Sir Lioran, this mask of valor—now pressed in on me like a coffin. The walls of my chambers, which should have offered sanctuary, felt as though they were closing in, suffocating me with the weight of secrets that grew heavier with each passing day. Every breath felt stolen, every heartbeat a reminder of the fraud I perpetrated simply by existing in this place.
I sat there for a long moment, still and silent as a statue, my hands pressed flat against the coverlet beneath me. The echoes of celebration faded into memory—the cheers, the toasts, the proud voices proclaiming my achievements—Carlisle's heightened interest in me, Arthur's constant hawkish gazes from across the room, Lance's concerned expression he seemed to be wearing all night. All of it felt hollow now, like applause for a performance I could never stop giving.
Slowly, I exhaled.
The truth of who I was still rang like a struck bell in my chest. Each breath felt heavier than the last.
I am their daughter. I am their weapon. I am their secret.
And yet, something inside me stirred—restless and raw. A whisper of defiance.
But with that defiance came danger. Not just to me—but to everything I had tried to protect. If Arthur ever discovered who I truly was—whatI truly was—there would be no forgiveness. No mercy. No second chance. I doubted there would even be a trial. Just death.
Hopefully, it would be quick.
