Page 16 of The Sword & the Stone

"Long live Queen Arthur!" they cried, tossing flowers at my mount's feet. The sweet scent of roses and lilies filled the air, mingling with the sweat and dust of the city.

But not all of them cheered. Some of them sent curses my way, some spat on the cobblestone as we trotted by. I sensed their glares boring into my back, their hatred and resentment seeping into my skin like poison. I tried to ignore them, to focus on the adoring faces and the shouts of support, but it was like trying to ignore a dagger pressed against my spine.

As we rode through the winding streets, I caught snippets of whispered conversations, hissed accusations that made my blood run cold.

"She's not fit to be queen," one woman spat, her face twisted with disgust. "A peasant girl, raised in an orphanage? What does she know of ruling a kingdom?"

"Uther has lost his mind," a man muttered, shaking his head. "Naming a girl as his heir? It's madness."

I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening on the reins until my knuckles turned white. I wanted to whirl around, to shout at them that I was more than just a peasant girl, that the sword had chosen me, not the other way around. But I knew it would be useless. They had already made up their minds about me.

Galahad must have sensed my unease, because he urged his horse forward until he was riding alongside me. "Ignore the rabble," he said, waving them off. “They just like to have someone new to hate."

I held my tongue, but gave him a thankful smile.

As we left the city behind, the noise of the crowds faded away, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the chirping of birds. The sun filtered through the canopy of trees, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. I inhaled deeply, savoring the earthy scent of moss and damp soil.

We ventured deeper into the woods and the trees grew taller, more ancient. Their trunks were gnarled and twisted with age. The air hummed with a strange energy, a prickling sensation that danced across my skin like invisible fingers.

I shivered, pulling my cloak tighter around my shoulders. There was magic here, old and powerful. I felt it in my bones. This side of the Kingswood was neutral lands, and was generally seen as safe for humans. But once we crossed the boundary into the wilds, we’d be vulnerable to all the ancient creatures who dwelt there.

Suddenly, a shadow passed overhead, blocking out the sun for a moment. I looked up, my hand instinctively reaching for my sword until I saw him. Merlin, perched atop a magnificent creature with the body of a lion and the wings and head of an eagle. A griffin.

The creature's feathers gleamed like bronze in the dappled sunlight, its eyes a piercing amber that twinkled back at me. Itlanded gracefully in front of our procession, and I heard the slide of steel as all five of my knights drew their weapons.

My heart gave a lurch as Merlin lowered his hooded cloak, revealing his shoulder length dark hair and familiar blue eyes. He smirked at me, and my body flushed, suddenly remembering the way those lips had felt between my thighs only hours ago.

I raised my hand, signaling for the knights to stand down. “Put away your damn weapons," I commanded, slicing through the tense silence. "This is Merlin—my friend. I trust him."

The knights hesitated for a moment, their eyes darting between me and the cloaked figure atop the griffin. Then, slowly, they lowered their swords, sliding them back into their scabbards with a soft hiss of metal on leather.

I nudged my horse forward, closing the distance between myself and Merlin. As I drew closer, I could see the mischief dancing in his eyes, the way his lips twitched as if he were holding back a laugh.

"Your Highness," he said, inclining his head in a bow that managed to be both respectful and playful at the same time. "I trust your journey has been uneventful thus far?"

"As uneventful as a ride through the city streets with a mob of angry peasants can be," I replied dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. "But I suspect you already knew that."

Merlin leaned forward, resting his arms on the griffin's feathered neck. "I may have heard a few particularly scathing jabs from the skies, but I have faith in your ability to win them over.”

Percival urged his horse forward, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked up at Merlin. "You’re a sorcerer… Only those trained in the druid arts can command a griffin."

The forest around us suddenly grew darker and colder, as if all the sunlight and warmth were being sucked away. I watchedPercival, realizing that darkness swirled around him while light fled.

I knew the fae possessed magic. They were the only ones who were allowed to wield it aside from King Uther’s personal sorcerer, Gaius.

Merlin's playful expression sobered, and he met Percival's gaze steadily. "I’ve been trained in the ways of magic since I was a boy."

"And who, pray tell, trained you?" Percival pressed as his hand fisted around what looked like a ball of pure darkness. "Sorcery is forbidden in Camelot, punishable by death."

Merlin nodded, his dark hair falling into his eyes. “I’m well aware of the laws, Sir Percival," he said, his eyes glinting as Percival’s shoulders stiffened at the familiar use of his name. "Gaius himself trained me. He recognized my gift from a young age and took me under his wing."

A tense silence stretched between us, broken only by the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the occasional snort from the horses. Percival's ball of darkness pulsed and swirled in his hand, casting eerie shadows across his face.

"Gaius might have trained you,illegally, I might add, but that doesn't change the fact that sorcery is a crime in Camelot. How do we know you won't turn your magic against us? Against the queen?"

The queen.

I was the queen….

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