What is wrong with you?!I railed at myself.She could be an enemy! She could be plotting Arthur's downfall—his death even! She could be manipulating you!
The remainder of the ceremony passed in a blur. I held my composure—years of court training ensured I could—but my thoughts churned with implications.
If she were discovered, the consequences would ripple through Camelot.
For Arthur, whose search for the white-haired enchantress bordered on obsession.
For me, whose loyalty had never wavered—until now.
And most of all, for Lioran. For the woman standing among us in mortal danger, her existence a blade balanced on the edge of revelation.
When the trial concluded and the candidates began to file out, I couldn’t just let her go.
It wasn't duty that drove me any longer.
It wasneed.
A suffocating need to be near her. To speak to her. Totouchher, even briefly. Even though she appeared to the world as a man, I no longer saw the illusion. I saw onlyher. The true her.
I followed at a discreet distance, my gaze fixed on the familiar rhythm of her stride, the subtle shift of her shoulders beneath the ceremonial white. Through the thinning crowd, she turned down one of the private corridors connecting thechapel to the main keep—a passage seldom used except by those wishing to avoid the busier halls.
Perfect.
I quickened my pace.
Whatever happened next would not be by chance.
-LANCE-
I found her halfway down the corridor, moving with purpose but not urgency. The ancient stones around us seemed to absorb sound, creating a hush that felt almost sacred—separate from the rest of Camelot. Torches burned at wide intervals, their flames guttering in a persistent draft. The flickering amber light traced across Lioran’s profile, softening the sharp angles of her disguise. No matter how carefully she mimicked masculine grace, something delicate still shone through.
In this corridor of whispers and secrets, she didn’t belong to either world—neither fully knight nor woman—but something entirely her own.
I caught up to her and reached for her arm, stopping her in place. She turned quickly, eyes flashing with surprise. A split second later, they clouded with worry.
“Lance,” she said—and the sound of my name on her lips pulled me straight back to her bedchamber and the memory I’d tried, and failed, to forget. So many times.
“The girl in your memory,” I started without preamble, my voice steady despite the pounding in my chest. “She looked like someone I’ve seen before.”
Her face froze. Not entirely—but just enough. A catch of breath. A tightening around the eyes.
“Oh?” The question was too casual. But panic glittered in her gaze.
“Yes.” I stepped closer. “She looked like the child version of the woman Arthur described. The woman he has been searching for.” And then it dawned on me—that moment in the Hunt Trial when the Invisible Stalker had taken the guise of the white-haired woman and I'd mistakenly believed she must have been in the forest. I'd gotten it all wrong. The Invisible Stalker had simply taken on the true identity of Lioran.
"And the woman whom we saw in the Hunt Trial," I added. "The woman whopulled the sword from the stone."
Her mask cracked—only for a second—but I saw it. The fear. I hadn't expected fear, but confusion or shock, as this should have been the first mention of a woman pulling Excalibur that she'd ever heard—if shewasn'tthe woman who had pulled the sword herself. Arthur had told only me the truth about what he'd witnessed that night—there was no way he would have entrusted such information to anyone else, owing to what it represented—another person with a claim to his throne. And yet… yet there was no surprise in her expression. Only concern. Worry.
"I can't remember what the memory was, Lance."
Of course, I'd already forgotten that she'd sacrificed it. "It was a memory of a young girl playing in the water in the countryside. The young girl had hair as white as snow."
She forced a laugh. “My sister.”
She was lying. I should have turned on my heel. Should have called for Arthur—for the King's Guard. That was the oath I’d sworn: protect the king, no matter the cost.
But instead, I stepped closer still—so close she swallowed hard as she looked up at me. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her, to taste her lips, but I stopped myself. Instead, I heard myself say, “Whatever secret you're hiding,Lioran... I care for you regardless. More than I should. More than is wise.”
