That moment by the water's edge flashed vividly in my mind—the look in his eyes, the warmth of his skin, and my own inexplicable response. I could still feel the ghost of his breath against me, the electric current that had passed between us when our eyes met, and the treacherous flutter in my stomach that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with desire. My body had betrayed me completely, responding to him not as the tyrant I hated, but as a man who stirred something undeniable within me.
I took a sharp step back. My breath hitched. “You don't understand—"
"—I understand perfectly well. I know every thought you've tried to bury, every forbidden feeling you've attempted to drown, but you have failed."
"No," I insisted again, but he wouldn't allow me to defend myself.
"Your desire for your king isn't a passing fancy or momentary weakness, but a truth—a powerful, inconvenient, terrifying truth." As he said the words, he smiled, and his expression was one of victory.
"The flames that spark within you when I am near are not just a distraction; they are a potential wildfire that could consume everything you've worked toward. They could incinerate your disguise, your resolve, your loyalty to Merlin and Annwyn."
"No." My voice was louder this time, but there was no conviction in it. "I… I hate you."
Arthur walked right up to me, his face inches from mine. "You hate me, but you wanted me to fuck you." He smiled as I tried to shake my head. "You want me to fuck you still."
I wanted to deny it with every fiber of my being. I wanted to scream that he was wrong—that I hated him, that he disgusted me, that the thought of his hands on my body repulsed me beyond measure. The words formed in my throat, desperate to escape, to create distance between us, to rebuild the walls he'd just torn down with his brutal honesty.
But I couldn't speak them. My voice failed me completely, trapped behind the iron bars of truth that had locked around my chest. Because deep down, in the darkest corners of my soul where I buried the thoughts I couldn't bear to acknowledge, I knew he wasn't wrong.
His smile was insistent. Sharp. "You wanted my cock inside you—to rip through your maidenhead."
My hands trembled at my sides, clenched into fists so tight my nails bit crescents into my palms. The pain was nothing compared to the agony of this realization—that somewhere in the twisted maze of my emotions, beneath layers of hatred and disgust and righteous fury, lay something else entirely.
Something that terrified me far more than Arthur's crown or his power ever could.
Because it wasn't true—the denial I so desperately wanted to voice. It simply wasn't true.
"Yes," I said at last, the admission allowing me to breathe more freely. This trial was about facing your weaknesses, facing the shadows that existed in your soul, and Arthur, I was learning, was becoming one such shadow for me. Now I had to embrace that truth. I had to own it. I had to… accept it for what it was. As much as I hated the idea, as much as I rebelled against the very thought of such weakness—being attracted to my enemy, the reality remained—I was.
"I accept my attraction to my enemy." I had to tear the words from within me, pull them out from somewhere deep within my chest as I realized my breathing had become ragged and unsteady. Each exhale felt like a confession, each inhale a struggle against the weight of this terrible admission.
"And now that I know I have this weakness toward you, I can strengthen my fortitude against it and against you."
The air around us seemed to thicken with the gravity of my declaration, the twisted corridors of the Labyrinth pressing closer as if feeding on the raw honesty of the moment.
"You came here for revenge," Arthur continued, his voice cutting through my internal turmoil like a blade finding its mark. "For justice against the tyrant who destroyed your world, who drove magic from these lands with blood and fire. And yet one touch from me, and you forgot your mission entirely."
The weight of what I was about to admit settled in my chest like molten lead, each breath I drew tasting of copper and shame. The words I needed to speak felt like poison gathering on my tongue, bitter and corrosive. My throat constricted as if my body itself rebelled against giving voice to the truth that would strip away another layer of my armor in this cursed place.
The Labyrinth seemed to sense my internal struggle, its twisted walls pressing closer with an almost hungry anticipation. The air grew heavier, thick with the acrid taste of vulnerability I had spent years learning to suppress. Each word would bea betrayal—of my training, my mission, my own sense of self-preservation—yet I knew there was no escaping this moment, no clever deflection that would satisfy the magic binding me to this terrible honesty.
"I am ashamed of my actions," I admitted, the words scraping against my throat like broken glass. I could barely force them out, each syllable a betrayal. "But these… feelings… this desire I feel toward you—it's just another obstacle to overcome. Another test of my resolve that I must face and conquer." I paused, drawing in a shuddering breath that seemed to echo in the unnatural silence of this place. "And I will overcome it, because while it is an inconvenient truth that I desire you, it is also a truth that I despise you." I took a step closer to him. "The hatred that burns within me will not be doused by something as fleeting as physical need. And I will stoke these fires of hatred until they overcome my lust for you. And when I drive my dagger into your heart and your eyes go lifeless, I will revel in the joy that you are dead and gone, that my parents have been avenged and that Logres is free."
And those words were completely, unapologetically, fiercely true.
With that final declaration settling between us like a challenge thrown down, Arthur nodded slowly and stepped back. His armor caught and reflected the strange, shifting half-light of the Labyrinth, making him appear almost ghostly, like something conjured from shadow and starlight rather than flesh and blood.
Arthur's form then began to dissolve beneath the water’s surface. His eyes locked onto mine like twin blades, never letting go. He held my gaze even as he sank. Then, he was gone, the water swallowing his image with a serenity that belied the turmoil he had left behind.
The lake began to recede, the water drawing back from whence it had come. Soon, all that was left behind was the damp stone and the chilled air of the room.
Alone now, my breathing slowed, each inhale and exhale grounding me more fully in reality. There was now a new layer of calm within me, a fragile peace spread thin yet undeniably present, all the same. The weight of my unspoken truth—my shameful attraction to Arthur—had been buried within me, unacknowledged and festering.
But admitting that ugly truth, by laying it bare in this haunted place, felt like sliding a vice from my chest. Freedom followed, tentative but real, bringing with it a kind of clarity. I wasn't yet sure how to navigate this attraction, but I could now confront whatever it was that Arthur stirred within me head-on. I could understand it as a piece of the puzzle rather than letting it overshadow the whole picture.
My mission remained my compass point; the dangerous allure Arthur held over me added complexity to my mission now, but it was nothing more than a challenge. And it was one I now felt more prepared to face. It wouldn’t distract me from my path or cloud my judgment. And Iwoulddefeat it.
Or I would die trying.
