"Kay is coming for you, mark my words. I don't know when, but it's inevitable. The man has never failed to covet what Arthur desires. Now that he knows Arthur is fixated on you, he will want to claim you before Arthur ever gets the chance—it's been his pattern since boyhood." Lance's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with something savage and fierce. "And if I'm here when Kay attempts to lay a hand on you, I will end his life without hesitation."
A chill ran through me at his words. Such a confrontation would be catastrophic. How could Lance possibly explain killing the king’s foster brother over a knight who’d only just arrived at court? No—this situation had become untenable.
My presence no longer endangered only me. It endangered Lance. And that was something I couldn't stomach.
As though sensing the storm inside me, his expression softened as he reached for me, strong arms sweeping me against his chest. His mouth found mine in a kiss that felt like a vow, like a drowning man clutching the only thing keeping him tethered to the surface.
“No frowns on that beautiful face.” He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek.
When he left, the silence that followed was almost unbearable.
I sank to the floor, my legs unable to support the weight pressing down on me. The physical exhaustion was real—my body still hummed with the memory of his touch—but it was the guilt that truly hollowed me out. The ache in my chest pulsed with a depth no pleasure could reach.
How I wanted this fairy tale to be real. How I longed to believe there was a future for us—in some distant village, far from Camelot. Mornings spent in each other’s arms, free from fear. Evenings by the hearth, where we shared truths instead of lies.
But that dream… it was moonlight on water—beautiful, distant, and impossible to hold.
And when Lance discovered thetruth—and hewould—when he learned that I wasn’t simply a woman hiding behind a false name but a spy sent by Merlin to infiltrate Arthur’s court, to unravel everything Lance had sworn to protect...
He would hate me.
Not with a quiet bitterness. Not with heartbreak.
With fury.
And I could already imagine the moment—the disbelief hardening into betrayal, the passion in his eyes turning to ash. The truth would cut him. Deeply. Because I hadn’t just lied once. I’d kept lying, even now, even after he’d given me his body, his trust, and his heart.
Even now, I was still deceiving him. But there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it. No matter what angle I looked at the situation, I was stuck.
And the thought of seeing Lance's face transform from adoration to disgust made my stomach clench. Those warm eyes turning cold. That gentle touch becoming indifferent—or worse, cruel. Once Lance knew what I truly was, he might bring the blade down on my neck himself.
And perhaps I would deserve it.
I pressed my forehead to the cool stone floor, trying to steady my breathing. There was no future for me here. Only the certainty of catastrophe if I stayed.
And that meant only one thing: I had to leave.
Today. Before I weakened. Before I changed my mind.
I rose and began to pace, my bare feet whispering over the worn stone as anxiety clawed at me. But where could I go? I had no money. No allies. Nothing to trade. And nowhere in Logres that would take me in—this hadn't been my home in years.
Every bond I’d forged in Camelot was built on a lie. Every friendship. Every look of respect. All of it poisoned.
But fleeing wouldn’t go unnoticed. If I disappeared in the night, Arthur would send the Guard after me—and they were trained to hunt. Once suspicion fell on Lioran, it would only grow. Questions would follow. Then orders. Then steel.
My absence alone would raise alarms. Lioran had become a favored knight, valuable and loyal—or so Arthur believed. That illusion alone would be enough to prompt a manhunt. And once they came looking, the truth wouldn’t stay hidden for long.
Yes, I could abandon Lioran's face, shed the magic, and take on another guise. I could change the color of my hair, conceal my features, become someone new. But it would just be another mask. Another prison. I would always be running, hiding.
And Annwyn? The thought twisted my gut. Returning to Merlin would be its own kind of death. I could already see the disappointment in his eyes—not the wounded kind, but the cold, strategic kind. The kind that tallied your failure and moved you off the board like a sacrificed pawn. And Corvin? I didn't know how he would react to me. He too would be disappointed, no doubt.
No, there was nowhere left for me to go. No haven. No sanctuary.
I needed time. A better plan. Something cleverer.
I forced a breath into my lungs. Today, I would do as Lance said. I would play my part. I would wear the armor.
I would become Lioran again.
