"They do."
"And you seek only those knights who wield magic."
"Yes."
"Is that not hypocrisy?"
"You call it hypocrisy—I call itnecessity." I paused and took a breath. "I can't fight Merlin with swords. I have to beat him at his own game.”
"Is it Merlin who is your enemy, or is it the dragon within you?"
"Both," I growled. "Merlin is responsible for waking this beast. He has broken the covenant. He's gone back on his word, on the oath he took that was sealed in blood and magic. And he will suffer for his indiscretions."
I took a deep, deliberate breath through gritted teeth, feeling the familiar burn of rage kindling in my chest like embers catching flame. The anger was building again—that white-hot fury that had been visiting me with increasing frequency. As I exhaled, wisps of actual smoke curled from my lips. Each breath I took carried the faintest hint of sulfur.
"Are you certain it is Merlin who is to blame?"
"There is no other explanation. And he will soon see that betraying me has consequences." My voice carried the weight of absolute certainty, the tone of a king who had made peace with harsh realities. "I will capture him, drag him back to Camelot in chains if necessary, and when I do, he will buttress the ancient wards that keep this dragon in check. His magic will serve its proper purpose once again."
I paused, feeling the familiar tightness in my chest as the dragon stirred at the mention of Merlin's name. The beast wanted blood, wanted revenge, wanted to burn everything associated with my former mentor to ash and cinders. I forced myself to take a measured breath, tasting sulfur on my tongue.
"Is thisyourwill or the dragon's will?"
"It ismywill," I growled. "And once the dragon is caged once more, then I will be able to pull Excalibur from its stone prison and prove beyond any shadow of a doubt that I remain the rightful king of Camelot. The sword will recognize my authority when this curse is lifted."
The certainty in my words felt hollow even as I spoke them, but I couldn't afford doubt. Not now. Not with the trials beginning tomorrow and every eye in the kingdom watching.
"Will it?"
It was the doubt in her tone that first sparked the flames. But it was the look in her eyes, the disbelief in my words, that sent a roar of dragonfire surging through me.
She doubts our strength. Show her what happens to those who dare.
My hands clenched into fists, knuckles whitening as I fought to contain the surge of heat that threatened to consume me from within. The dragon tattoo across my chest and back burned like a brand, the ancient scales seeming to writhe beneath my skin as if the creature itself were trying to tear free from its prison of flesh and ink. I could taste smoke on my tongue, feel the familiar tightness in my throat that preceded the emergence of something far more dangerous than mere royal displeasure.
"I'm done here," I growled, the sound emerging rougher than intended, more beast than man. Without another glance, I turned and stalked away through the mist-shrouded lake, leaving steam in my wake.
By the time I reached the forest’s edge, my mind churned with familiar fears—Merlin gathering forces in Annwyn, amassing power while I struggled to maintain order in Logres. Reports of rebellion were increasing with each passing week, mostly along the northern borders where my authority had always been more tenuous. Village after village had begun refusing my tax collectors, and several lords who had swornfealty to my crown were now conspicuously absent from court summons. The northern territories had always been restless under my rule—too close to the wild lands, too influenced by old loyalties and older magic—but this growing defiance felt different. More organized. More dangerous.
But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst was the dragon itself. And the changes in my own body that came with its stirring.
I was much quicker to jump to anger now, my temper flaring at the slightest provocation—a servant moving too slowly, a courtier's poorly chosen words, even the sound of footsteps echoing too loudly in the corridors. My breath steamed even in warm air, dissipating slowly and unnaturally like smoke from a dying fire. I was certain the servants had begun to notice—I could see them exchanging glances, their eyes darting nervously when they thought I wasn't watching—but they were far too frightened to comment aloud.
Lance had been the only one brave enough to speak of it directly. He'd told me my eyes would begin to glow red with an inner fire whenever I experienced moments of rage—which were increasing with alarming frequency. He understood what I was up against because he'd seen the dragon defeat Uther, and I could tell he was worried that the same would happen to me. He'd never said as much, of course, but I could see the truth in his eyes, all the same.
The walk back through the forest, up the hill and toward Camelot, was a blur. I barely registered anything other than the sound of my footsteps. When the castle’s white towers came into view, I straightened—shoulders squared, chin lifted. The guards at the gate snapped to attention, eyes carefully avoiding mine.
"Your Majesty," they murmured as I passed.
To them—to all of them—I was still the golden king. Regal. Unyielding. The ruler of Logres whose word was law. Theywould never see the doubt that haunted me at night, the fear that gnawed at my insides like a starving animal.
Only within my private chambers did I allow the mask to slip.
Once inside the castle, I headed for the war room. Then I locked the door, dismissing even my most trusted servants. Alone, I moved to the massive oak table dominating the room. A detailed map of Logres lay beneath heavy glass weights. Red ink scars marked it like wounds.
Each dot—an incident. Some magic and dealt with; others, examples of the rising rebellion. I uncorked the vermilion ink and added another mark over the northern village of Blackwell Keep—the newest example of The Rebellion working against me. Fools. If only they knew what they were fighting against—their own demise. But I could never inform them of as much. No one could find out about the dragon.
My hand trembled. Ink spattered across the map’s clean lines.
