Page 22 of The Sword & the Stone

But it was Arthur who broke the stalemate, rising to her feet with a quiet dignity that I had to admire. “I’m tired. I think I’ll get some sleep while I can.”

With that, she turned on her heel and strode off towards the edge of the camp, where we’d laid out the bedrolls among the rustling ferns. I watched the sway of her hips, the proud set of her shoulders, and felt a swell of admiration for the small woman.

Lancelot stared after her, a muscle ticking in his stubbled jaw. For a moment, I thought he might call her back, challenge her again, but he just shook his head and returned to sharpening his blade with renewed focus. Merlin rose and followed after Arthur, and I didn't miss the warning look he shot Lancelot over his shoulder.

When they were out of earshot, Gawain said, “Do you think they’re fucking?”

The question had a bark of laughter falling from Galahad, and even Percy cracked his eyes open with a raised brow. I groaned, running a palm over my face. But the sudden image of Arthur, naked and writhing in pleasure, flashed through my mind. My cock thickened, and all I could do was groan, shaking my head at Gawain.

Galahad tossed a twig at Gawain's head. "You've got the subtlety of a charging boar, my friend. But it wouldn't surprise me in the least."

Gawain ducked, grinning unrepentantly. "What? Like we weren't all thinking it. They've got history. Any fool can see that."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Their personal lives are none of our concern. Our duty is to protect and guide Arthur, not gossip about who she fucks."

Gawain was probably right though; I had to admit it to myself at least. I saw the way Arthur and Merlin looked at each other. The tension between them was palpable. Then again, I’d seen her giving a similarly appreciative look to Gawain earlier in the day.

Did that mean she was unattached?

The prospect sent a thrill through my body, and my eyes followed Arthur’s dark form as she readied for bed in the shadows. She was braiding her long hair while Merlin leaned against a tree. They spoke in hushed voices, too far away for any of us to make out.

Lancelot made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "A fine job we're doing of that. Letting a half-trained girl and her pet sorcerer lead us on a fool's errand."

I rounded on him, my patience fraying. "I'm getting tired of your nastiness tonight, Lance. The sword chose Arthur, which means she was literally chosen by fate itself. Who are we to question that?"

His eyes flashed my way. "Fate can be misread. Prophecies can be misinterpreted. Until I see proof of her worth with my own eyes, my reservations stand."

Chapter Seven

ARTHUR

I wokewith my heart pounding hard enough to hurt. For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. The canopy of leaves overhead and the earthy scent of damp moss filled my senses as it all came rushing back—the quest, the sword, the fae knights.

Something had pulled me from sleep, but what? I lay still, my breath shallow as I strained my ears against the heavy silence of the forest night.

There it was again—a faint rustling—a whisper of movement.

Then I felt it. Tiny, delicate footsteps, like the patter of raindrops, dancing across my skin.

I bolted upright, my eyes wide as I scanned my surroundings. The campfire had burned down to glowing embers. The knights were sprawled around it, their chests rising and falling in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. Even Percival, who was meant to be keeping watch, was propped against a tree, his head lolling to the side.

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw them. Tiny, luminous shapes flitting between the trees, darting in and outof the shadows like fireflies. Giggles and whispers floated on the breeze, musical and mischievous.

I rose slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. The little creatures seemed to grow bolder.

As I stood there, hardly daring to breathe, the tiny creatures emerged from the shadows, their curiosity seemingly overriding their caution. They were no bigger than my hand, with delicate, gossamer wings that shimmered like stained glass in the faint light. Their skin had a luminous quality, as if they were lit from within by starlight.

Some had hair the color of spun silver, others had locks of pale gold or rich chestnut. They wore garments that seemed to be made from flower petals, leaves, and the finest spider silk, in shades of forest green, petal pink, and soft lavender.

I watched in wonder as they flitted closer, their movements graceful and fluid, like dandelion seeds on a breeze. They circled around me, leaving trails of glowing dust in their wake that smelled of honeysuckle.

Just as I was about to work up the courage to reach out my hands and touch one, Galahad chose that moment to sneeze. The sound was so loud and jarring that the trees nearly shook. The luminous creatures scattered like leaves in the wind, and the forest went dark again.

I groaned, deciding I wasn’t ready to go back to sleep just yet. Instead, I sat on a log next to the still burning embers of the fire, letting the gentle warmth comfort me. I wondered what other creatures we might find prowling this forest. I also wondered how in the gods’ name they’d gotten past the wards.Weren’t they meant to protect us?

The soft crunch of footsteps approached and I tensed, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of my sword. The sword that wasn’t there, but laying wrapped in my bedroll. I relaxed when I saw Merlin's familiar form materialize out of the shadows.

He settled down beside me, his shoulder brushing against mine as he leaned forward to warm his hands. For a moment, we sat in companionable silence, listening to the gentle crackle of the embers and the soft snores of the sleeping knights.

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