But what if I actuallypulled itfree?
No. That wasn’t possible. This wasn't my destiny.
I glanced around, half-expecting guards to charge from the shadows and drag me to the dungeons. The consequences of what the Lady asked felt incalculable.
"What has begun cannot remain unfinished."
I stepped toward the sword, each movement thick with doubt. What was I doing? I wasn’t a queen. I wasn’t even a knight. I was a spy, pretending to be a knight, now disguised as a servant. The absurdity of it all might’ve made me laugh—if I weren't currently stuck in this disaster.
"This will prove nothing," I muttered, more to myself than to her. "The sword won’t move for me any more than it would for a stable boy."
"We shall see."
At the stone platform, I paused one last time. If anyone saw me… But the grounds were still. No guards. No torches. Only the lake, the Lady, the stone, and the silence.
I took a breath and gripped the hilt.
The moment my skin touched the metal, warmth surged through me—not fire, but familiarity, as if the sword knew me. It hummed under my palm, the vibration echoing up my arm and into my chest.
I pulled.
There was no resistance.
The sword—Excalibur—slid free.
In the same instant, light burst from the stone, bright enough to illuminate the entire lake for a heartbeat—and in that moment, all I could feel was fear that someone had witnessed what I’d just done.
“What—” I gasped, staring at the sword in disbelief. “This can’t be.”
The blade felt too light, perfectly balanced, as though it had been forged for my hand. And that was impossible.
“Excalibur has chosen.”
Across the water, the Lady of the Lake’s expression shifted—recognition and pride glowing in her eyes.
Gods, no! Fucking no! What in the nine hells had I just done?
“The Sword in the Stone acknowledges its rightful wielder.”
I shook my head, thrusting the sword toward her. “No. Take it back. This is a mistake.”
“There is no mistake. The sword chooses by worth, not lineage."
"This can't be happening."
"Excalibur has found in you what it once saw in Arthur—what he has since lost.”
Her words crashed over me like a wave. My mission, my disguise, everything I thought I was—splintered in an instant. This couldn't—this couldn't happen! How was this happening?!
“This is wrong,” I choked out. “Arthur pulled the sword. That’s why he’s king. That’s why—” My voice broke under the weight of my panic.
I dropped the sword.
It hit the water with a splash, vanishing into the lake as though it had never been drawn. The ripples spread outward, fracturing the moon’s reflection into a thousand pieces. I stood frozen, staring at the surface, my hand still tingling from where the hilt had touched my skin.
That sword had rejected kings and chosen me—a woman. A spy. A traitor in disguise.
I glanced toward the treeline, toward the castle walls beyond. Had I been seen? Was someone watching even now? One whisper of this, and my life was over.
