I hesitated. Images rose in my mind—Arthur's unexpected kindnesses, his quiet doubts, the moments when his ideals clashed with Merlin's ruthless guidance. "He's not what I expected."
Morgan's lips curled with quiet satisfaction. "Of course not. Both men offer half-truths tailored to their own ends. Merlinrefused and refuses to tell you who you truly are, nor what power you might wield apart from him."
"What would you advise me to do, then?" My tone was cautious, as I still couldn't fully place Morgan's role in this game. And though she had absolutely helped me, I knew she wanted something from me—just as everyone did.
She turned sharply, folding her arms. "My advice is simple—though not easy: Be true to yourself, Guinevere. Not to Arthur. Not to Merlin. And not to me."
"What does that even mean?" Frustration curled in my chest. I glanced down, shaking my head. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
"Exactly!" she snapped, fire flashing in her eyes. "That's what they count on! Your confusion makes you pliable—eager to please, easy to shape. That's how men like Arthur and Merlin keep their hold on you. They define you by whattheyneed, not bywho you are or what youwant."
I gestured helplessly. "I'm pretending to be a man. I can’t exactly go aroundproclaiming my truth."
"Naturally." Her tone was suddenly measured again. "Keep your disguise. Continue your mission until you can no longer do so. And then revolt. Find your own path. Choose your own way."
"Why do I have a feeling you know more than you are letting on?"
She smiled like the cat cornering the canary. "All you need to know at this juncture is that I will not reveal your secret."
"Are we allies then? Or are we just using each other for something I have yet to fully understand?"
Morgan laughed—rich, unguarded, and unexpectedly genuine. "Perhaps both. The most honest relationships often are."
Something in my chest loosened at her frankness. After months of navigating half-truths and manipulations, her directness felt like cool water on a fevered brow.
She moved toward the door but paused, glancing back over her shoulder. "Beware of Kay. I've neutralized him—for now—but men like him nurse grudges. He’ll search for other ways to hurt you, even if he doesn't technically violate our agreement." She paused. "What is more—I would do your best to rid yourself of your virginity. To Kay, it's a prize. That would be one way to disarm him." She paused and then looked me up and down. "My vote is Lance. He is a giving lover. You'll enjoy it." Then she paused. "But Arthur is a savage. And there is always a time and a place for that, as well."
I frowned. "You've…had relations with Arthur?"
"Of course." She laughed. "Though not as my true self, nor as Elenora. But I have worn many a disguise, Guinevere. And I can tell you that I have returned to Arthur's bed on more than one occasion. He is… rough, and sometimes it's exactly what a woman wants and needs. In truth, there are very few knights I haven't experienced, except Galahad, who is so fucking righteous he's impossible." She paused, a smile lighting her lips. "But I'm still working on him."
"I… don't know what to say to that." I cleared my throat. "And I don't know how I would even… be in a position to do such a thing with Lance, for example, without him discovering my secret."
She smiled. "Ah, quite the conundrum."
As she reached for the latch on the door, one final question slipped from my lips. "If you enter my dreams again—will you tell me?"
Her smile curved, enigmatic as ever. "I’ll consider it a courtesy between…friends. Though you might want to learn how to shield your dreams or use the talisman I provided you."
I nodded, even though I didn't know what her motives were and I didn't trust her; what couldn't be argued was that she'd rescued me from a horrible situation. "Thank you… for everything you did for me tonight."
"You needed neither my rescue nor my advice to survive, Guinevere. You are stronger than you realize." Her voice softened, and for a fleeting moment, I saw something like genuine respect in her eyes. "Had Kay not drugged your wine, I suspect he would’ve regretted his choices… quite painfully."
Before she opened the door, Morgan shifted—back into Elenora.
The transformation was subtle but complete. The sharp angles of her face softened; her posture melted from regal command to something more inviting, more fluid. The calculating gleam in her eyes gave way to practiced allure, and her voice, when she spoke again, was light, flirtatious—charming in the way that made men underestimate her.
In mere seconds, the powerful sorceress who had neutralized Kay and spoken to me as an equal disappeared beneath the carefully tailored mask of Camelot’s favorite courtesan.
And I couldn’t help but wonder: how many years had it taken her to perfect this illusion? And what toll had it exacted—living divided between such vastly different selves?
I had a feeling I was well on my way to finding out.
Her gaze held mine. "Perhaps together, we could become something greater than either Arthur or Merlin ever imagined."
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
-GUIN-
