So I'd ignored the heat between us. Kept my distance. Pretended not to notice. Swallowed it down.
But now knowing she was no longer the maid she had been—that some man had gotten to her first—I didn't know how to process it.
The jealousy hit harder than it should have. Harder than I had any right to feel. I'd never touched her, never crossed that line despite the thousand opportunities I'd had. Never claimed anything beyond the role of silent protector. So why did theknowledge that someone else had gotten to her taste so bitter in my mouth?
Lance.
His name surfaced unbidden, unwelcome. The way he'd looked at Lioran during training sessions—he'd known he was a she, even if his mind hadn't been able to process the truth. His body certainly had. The way his jaw had tightened when others spoke dismissively of the northern knight's humble origins. The careful distance he'd maintained after the Hunt Trial—too careful, too deliberate. And then, at some point, he'd found her out. I still wasn't certain how. That was the problem with having to be in two places at the same time and living two very different lives—that of Corvin, second to Merlin, and that of The Fox.
Anger coiled through my chest, hot and bitter. If Lance had touched her, if he'd taken what I'd spent years denying myself—
I forced the thought away, shoved it down with the same ruthless discipline I'd used to survive years of playing both sides. Because I had no right to think such thoughts. Because I'd seen the way she looked at him. She desired him just as much as he did her.
It didn't matter. Not now. Whatever had or hadn't happened between Guin and Lance—or anyone else—was irrelevant compared to the current issue facing me.
Guin sat in Arthur's dungeon, exposed and vulnerable, at the mercy of a king who'd never learned the meaning of that word. And it was clear—painfully, horrifyingly clear—that Arthur was going to force himself on her at some point. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But soon. I'd seen that look in his eyes at the lake, the way the dragon inside him had stirred to life when he'd touched her. Possession and hunger twisted together into something that wouldn't be denied.
Not only that, but she was also at the mercy of the guards. And with beauty like hers… mercy wouldn't spare her.
And Kay…
Kay was perhaps the greater danger.
Arthur I understood. His obsessions followed patterns; his cruelty had limits—however arbitrary. The dragon inside him might howl for blood, but Arthur still wrestled with remnants of honor, still heard echoes of the boy who'd once dreamed of justice.
Kay, though. Kay was different.
He'd watched her at the lake. I'd seen him slip through the trees like a carrion bird drawn to death. He knew her secret now—knew she was a woman, knew she was the white-haired woman of Arthur's obsession, knewArthur wantedher.
And Kay collected secrets the way other men collected coin.
He'd use her—leverage her against Arthur, against Lance, against anyone who served his twisted ambitions. Or worse—he'd simply take what he wanted before handing her over to be executed. I'd seen the way his eyes tracked women through the halls, that particular hunger that had little to do with desire and everything to do with power.
The thought made my hands curl into fists.
I picked up my pace, boots silent on the luminescent path. Caer Gwyll's tower rose ahead, its spires piercing the twilight sky.
Time to have words with my so-called master. Time to make him answer for what he'd done.
The ancient trees gradually parted like curtains drawn back by invisible hands, their massive trunks stepping aside to reveal the full majesty of Caer Gwyll. Merlin's castle rose from the mist-shrouded valley like something born from dreams and starlight—its spires twisted too high, defying the natural laws that governed mortal architecture. Veins of silver light pulsed through the translucent walls, throwing dancing shadows acrossthe courtyard's gardens where flowers bloomed in colors that had no names.
Under normal circumstances, the sight never failed to humble me. The way moonbeams seemed to solidify into buttresses, how the air shimmered with barely contained magic, the haunting beauty of a structure that existed as much in the realm of possibility as in physical space—it was a testament to power that made kings look like children playing with wooden swords.
But tonight, that ethereal beauty might as well have been ash and rubble for all the impression it made on me. My mind was consumed with darker visions: Guin trapped in Arthur's web of obsession, Kay circling like a vulture with his cruel smile, the dragon's hunger growing stronger with each passing moment.
Whatever game Merlin was playing with Guin's life, it ended tonight.
EPILOGUE
-MERLIN-
The Night Merlin Left Camelot
The crystal vials on my workbench rattled as I paced, my robes trailing shadows across the stone floor.
Each step felt heavier than the last, weighted by the knowledge of what was coming—what hadalwaysbeen coming, ever since that night when Uther's screams still echoed through these halls, before we carried him to the Whispering Wilds and allowed that witch to remove the dragon—to give the abomination to Arthur.
When we'd emerged from the Wilds, one king was dead, and the other was forever changed.
