Page 94 of The Sword & the Stone

With trembling hands, I poured the crystal-clear water from my pouch into the Grail. Then, I gently cradled her head in one hand while bringing the Grail to her lips with the other.

Gawain stepped forward, frost crackling around his clenched fists. "She tried to kill you," he growled, his steel-gray eyes flashing. "She doesn't deserve the Grail's power."

"It's alright," I murmured, tilting it gently. "Drink, sister." Mordred's lips parted, and I carefully poured a small amount of the glowing liquid into her mouth.

Black tendrils of power erupted from the wound in her chest, writhing and twisting like living shadows. They latched onto her limbs, her torso, her face. Anywhere they could find purchase. Mordred's mouth opened in a silent scream as the darkness spread rapidly across her pale skin.

I scrambled backwards; the Grail slipped from my grasp and spilled its glowing contents onto the mossy ground. Where the liquid touched, flowers instantly bloomed.

Mordred's skin began to crack and flake, dissolving into fine gray ash that drifted away on an invisible wind. The process moved swiftly, revealing glimpses of stark white bone beneath.

Her blood-red hair withered and crumbled, scattering like crimson leaves in an autumn breeze. Then she was bone. A skeletal husk draped in fine jewels, and a dress made of emerald silk.

Chapter Thirty-Five

ARTHUR

I stoodon the balcony of Camelot's highest tower, watching in awe as the city below transformed before my eyes. The streets were awash with color and magic, unlike anything I'd ever seen in Albion.

Fae from every corner of Avalon had crossed through shimmering portals over the past three days, their arrival heralded by bursts of light and swirling mist. Flowers bloomed spontaneously wherever faerie feet touched the ground first. The air was sweet and floral rather than bitter and cold. For the very first time, Camelot actually felt alive.

Humans gathered in the streets, wearing their finest clothing and selling whatever they could, eager to collect fae jewels and gold.

Seelie and Unseelie fae mingled freely, their centuries-old animosity set aside for this historic moment. Among the fae, I could see the human nobles of Camelot, their eyes wide with awe and a touch of fear. Queen Tatiana was staying in the castle, and I’d made sure to provide her with a detail of our finest guards.

My coronation had been a spectacular event, but it took hours for me to recite the ancient vows to protect and serve as the high queen of Albion. Not just Camelot, but over the entire realm. The ceremony was a mesmerizing blend of human tradition and fae magic, unlike anything I had ever witnessed.

The great hall had been transformed into a breathtaking wonderland. Vines of shimmering silver and gold crept up the stone walls, blooming with flowers that glowed like captured starlight. The air was thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and moon flowers, their ethereal petals unfurling in the presence of so much magic.

The humans had been mystified, having never seen much of the world beyond the mortal realm they were stuck in. But not anymore. As queen, I pledged to open the gateways between realms, uniting our people as one in both trade and politics. There was a long road ahead, but I realized I was actually looking forward to figuring it out.

I turned from the balcony, my bare feet silent on the cool stone floor as I made my way back into my chambers. The room was bathed in the soft glow of floating orbs of faerie light, casting dancing shadows across the walls.

My handmaidens—a mix of human and fae—bustled about, making final preparations for the evening's festivities. They chattered excitedly in a melodious blend of languages, their eyes bright with anticipation. Tonight would be one to remember. The fae were bringing revelry to the humans, and we would celebrate deep into the early hours of the dawn.

I stood before the full-length mirror, marveling at my transformation. Gone was the street thief in tattered clothes. In her place stood a queen, radiant and ethereal. I almost didn’t recognize myself.

The dress they’d crafted for me was a masterpiece of fae artistry. Sheer red fabric flowed like liquid fire, clinging to mycurves before cascading to the floor in ripples of crimson. With each movement, shimmering runes flickered to life across my skin, each one hand painted with metallic pigments. My hair was styled into a strange, sleek and straight waterfall of chestnut strands, and my mother’s circlet sat atop my head. I still couldn’t figure out how they’d accomplished it.

Tonight I would drink from the Holy Grail. In front of all of Camelot, and all who’d traveled from Avalon to bear witness. Tonight I would become truly immortal, and worthy of the highest throne in the land.

But there was something I had to do first. Before the magic took hold and transformed me.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my swirling thoughts. The handmaidens exchanged knowing glances, their cheeks flushing as they moved to answer it. As the heavy oak door swung open, my breath caught in my throat. There, framed in the doorway, stood my knights. All five of them, and beside them, was Merlin. They filed into the room one by one.

Gone were their usual leather and steel. Instead, they wore traditional fae clothing—loose silks and fine linens that draped elegantly over their muscular forms. Their chests were bare, bronzed skin on full display. Intricate tattoos and shimmering runes decorated their arms and torsos, pulsing faintly with magic. They were barefoot and wild tonight.

The maids scrambled out of the room in a fit of giggles.

My knights surrounded me, their eyes filled with heat. Gawain let out a low whistle. "You look absolutely breathtaking, my queen," he said, his voice husky.

Lancelot stepped closer, his golden eyes smoldering. "That dress is sinful. I can't wait to peel it off you."

Tristan's silver gaze raked over me appreciatively. "Hello,mate…” His voice was silken, and made my thighs clench with need.

Merlin's blue eyes blazed with barely contained desire. "Fuck—" he breathed, "you’re magnificent."

They circled me slowly, drinking in every detail. The heat of their gazes was like a physical caress. My skin tingled with anticipation, desire coiling low in my belly.

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