"I'm offering you the only path that doesn't end with your execution," I continued, beginning to circle her slowly, like a wolf assessing prey. Each step allowed me to study her from a different angle—the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers trembled almost imperceptibly at her sides despite her outward composure, the subtle shifts in her breathing that betrayed her awareness of my proximity.
Closer,the beast demanded.She trembles for us.
"And?" she asked, her voice small, as if she dreaded my response.
I stopped walking once I stood towering before her, close enough that I could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat. I watched with dark satisfaction as her breathing grew shallow.
Closer. Feel how she responds to our presence.
I placed one hand against the cold stone wall beside her head, and with the other, I tilted her chin up to meet my gaze. Then I leaned in, bringing my mouth close to her ear, near enough that my breath stirred the strands.
"You will become a traitor to Merlin and Annwyn." My voice dropped to a low, dangerous whisper.
Her eyes widened slightly. "A—a traitor?"
"Yes."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you'll continue playing the part of the spy. But now you'll be my spy against Merlin, againstyour father."
Confusion flickered across her face. "Then… you are saying… I would remain here, in Camelot?"
"You would."
Her frown deepened. "How would I even attempt such a thing?"
"You'll act as if nothing has changed." I reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, taking satisfaction in how she tensed at my touch. Yes, now I had her right where I wanted her, and I reveled in that victory. "You'll become one of my knights of the Round Table—officiallythis time."
"But…" She looked at me as though I'd lost my mind. Perhaps I had. "Sir Lioran—"
"—no," I interrupted, shaking my head. "Not as Lioran. It's time to drop the charade."
"I don't understand."
"Your magic is easily as powerful, if not more powerful, than every knight who survived the Shadow Trials," I explained matter-of-factly as I resumed my pacing around her.
"But… I am a woman."
"I care little that you're a woman. You've proven your worth in combat and magic—enough that I am and have been impressed with your skills. Had I never discovered the truth of your sex, I would have awarded Lioran a place at my table."
"But… the rules of Camelot—"
"—I am King. I make the rules." I glared at her. "And if I say you shall join my Knights of the Round Table, then so you shall… but wearing your own face."
Shock replaced confusion in her expression. "The other men will never accept a woman among their ranks."
I laughed—a short, harsh sound that was devoid of humor. "I am their king. They will accept whatever the fuck I tell them to accept." I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body. "Any who question my decision will find themselves seeking a new head."
Her eyes narrowed as understanding dawned. "And in return for this...honor, you expect me to become your spy?"
"Yes. You will maintain your correspondence with Merlin, disclosing to him only what I instruct you to share. But anything you discover, any plans he reveals, any movements of his forces—anything at all—no matter how important or seemingly unimportant—you'll bring directly to me." I paused. "And you will answer all my questions regarding his forces—every detail about troop numbers, magical capabilities, and strategic positions. His plans—whether grand schemes spanning months or simple daily routines. I want to know how many sorcerers stand with him, what creatures he's bound to his service, and which of the old noble houses have pledged their allegiance to his cause." I moved closer still, until only inches separated us, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You will tell me about his weaknesses, his fears, his regrets. What drives him, what keeps him awake at night, what he values most in this world. I want to know everything, Guinevere—from the layout of his stronghold to the color of his morning robes."
"You want me to betray my own father?" The words came out strangled, as if speaking them aloud made the betrayal more real.
I studied her face, noting the way her throat worked as she swallowed, the slight tremor in her hands that she tried to hide by clenching them into fists at her sides. The moonlight streaming through the windows made her appear so small, so fragile—though I knew better than to mistake her delicate appearance for weakness.
Our little warrior.
