“I hid you to protect you.” A deeply profound sense of sorrow imbued every word.
"To hide me?" I shook my head. "Hide me from what?"
“From Arthur, and from your father’s growing obsession with defeating him.”
It was just as Merlin had said.
“You feared Merlin would use me as his weapon. That I’d become a vessel intheirwar.”
Her nod was barely perceptible. “When your father’s magic slipped beyond his control, and he and Arthur severed ways, I saw something begin to rot in Merlin. I couldn’t bear to see you shaped by that darkness.”
I swallowed. “The farmers who raised me—the people I thought were my parents... I had to keep myself from weeping at their memory; the emotions were so thick in my throat. They died because of me. Because of what I am.”
“They knew the risk when they agreed to love you, Guinevere. And they loved you anyway."
The tears started to fall then, and I wiped them away. "Who were they to you?"
“Distant kin from my mortal bloodline. One of the last families who still remembered the old ways, who kept the sacred knowledge even after magic was outlawed. They loved you as their own. That part was never a lie.”
And then something dawned on me. "Your voice," I said as the realization hit me like a lightning bolt. "It was your voice I heard that day." I began to nod as the memories flooded my mind. "After the incident at the marketplace in Eldenvale—when I ran back to my home and the King's Guard was already there. And I… I lost control and my water magic flooded everything… it wasyourvoice I heard—yourvoice telling me to run. That there would be more of the guards coming."
"Yes," she answered simply.
"But how did you—"
"—the connection between us has always been strong, Guinevere, even if we hadn't seen one another since you were just a babe."
I opened my mouth to speak, to say something, then closed it again. Words tangled in my throat like fishing line, impossible to unravel. My hands trembled at my sides, fists clenching and unclenching as I struggled to process what she'd just confirmed.
It had beenher. All along.
The voice that had saved my life, that had urged me toward the forest while my world burned behind me—my mother had been there, guiding me even as she'd abandoned me.
Anger flared hot in my chest, warring with a desperate, childish longing I couldn't suppress. I wanted to rage at her, demand answers for every lonely night, every moment I'd felt like I didn't belong. But I also wanted to collapse into her arms and sob until there was nothing left inside me.
The emotions crashed over me in waves—gratitude, fury, grief, love—each one drowning out the last before I could grasp it.
"I don't..." My voice cracked. "I don't know what to say."
She stepped closer, water pooling at her feet. "You don't have to say anything, daughter."
I looked toward Excalibur, its surface catching the moonlight like a blade carved from starlight before I looked at her once more. “Why did it choose me?”
Her expression sobered. “The sword chooses based not just on worthiness—but on need. Once, it chose Arthur because the land required unity beneath a strong hand. Now… it has chosen you, Guinevere. Because both realms require healing, not more division.”
"Did you know this would happen?" I faced her resolutely, needing to understand how much of a part she had played and was playing in my so-called 'destiny.' "Did you know Excalibur would choose me—your daughter?"
"I did not. All I knew was that a chosen one was coming."
"And did you know who I was when I pulled the sword from the stone, when I first met you at this lake weeks ago?"
She paused a moment too long. "I did not know for certain who you were, no, though I had my suspicions."
"Your suspicions?!" I threw the words back at her. "How could you not have known when our blood practically sings to each other?!"
"I could not allow my own desires to interfere with the sword's calling, Guinevere." Her tone was calm. "I had to allow the sword to make its choice before I could allow my own personal feelings to get involved."
I didn't know what that meant. "Why didn't you at least tell me that you suspected I might be your daughter, even if youdidn't know for certain? Why did you wait for me to find out for myself?"
